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Henchgirl and I are working on a side project involving Kyle Rayner, which will result in that character's equivalent of the Hal Jordan head injury project. Unfortunately, this means tracking down as many Kyle issues of Green Lantern we can find. Every dollar I spend makes fifteen-year-old John Hefner scream in agony.
I honestly keep trying to actually read these issues, but I can't get three pages into any story without wanting to find some way to graft a throat onto the comics so that I may strangle them. Yeah, that was awkwardly phrased, but Kyle GL comics from this era infuriate me beyond all sense of actual wit. Even when good stuff actually happens, I'm too blinded by my deep-seated nostalgic rage. Can one have nostalgic rage? Because I think that's what this is.
In other cosmic comic news, I finally read The Life and Death of Captain Marvel, which felt like the equivalent of suffering through three seasons of an incredibly tedious show, only to find that the series finale is one of the greatest things you've ever seen on TV.
I love Starlin's later work with Thanos, but good lord was I ever bored by the original Thanos storyline. Maybe that just served to make the already-great Death of Captain Marvel all the more powerful. I was doing that thing where you make little "oh" sounds out loud every few pages, which got rather embarrassing with Henchgirl in the room.
Amazing to think that this kind of story is still incredibly rare in comics today. Actually, do we ever see superheroes dying slow deaths, deteriorating and coming to terms with their mortality while they make peace with those around them? The only other instance I can recall is Silver Surfer: Requiem, and say what you want about JMS, but that story was stunningly moving for much the same reasons.
I'm tempted to say that The Death of Captain Marvel might well be the greatest treatment of death in all of superhero comics. Any disagreements on this count, f-list?
I honestly keep trying to actually read these issues, but I can't get three pages into any story without wanting to find some way to graft a throat onto the comics so that I may strangle them. Yeah, that was awkwardly phrased, but Kyle GL comics from this era infuriate me beyond all sense of actual wit. Even when good stuff actually happens, I'm too blinded by my deep-seated nostalgic rage. Can one have nostalgic rage? Because I think that's what this is.
In other cosmic comic news, I finally read The Life and Death of Captain Marvel, which felt like the equivalent of suffering through three seasons of an incredibly tedious show, only to find that the series finale is one of the greatest things you've ever seen on TV.
I love Starlin's later work with Thanos, but good lord was I ever bored by the original Thanos storyline. Maybe that just served to make the already-great Death of Captain Marvel all the more powerful. I was doing that thing where you make little "oh" sounds out loud every few pages, which got rather embarrassing with Henchgirl in the room.
Amazing to think that this kind of story is still incredibly rare in comics today. Actually, do we ever see superheroes dying slow deaths, deteriorating and coming to terms with their mortality while they make peace with those around them? The only other instance I can recall is Silver Surfer: Requiem, and say what you want about JMS, but that story was stunningly moving for much the same reasons.
I'm tempted to say that The Death of Captain Marvel might well be the greatest treatment of death in all of superhero comics. Any disagreements on this count, f-list?
