Comic Relief

I know I've already made a mention of Iron Man, but he's making another appearance thanks to The Graphic Classroom. I've been considering the idea of covering comic books in the classroom thanks to several notable titles which I feel exemplify the art form, demonstrating its vast and unique potential. Comic books hold a distinction as a truly American creation, yet for whatever reason are not widely studied or explored. There has, in the past, been a stigma associated with them--namely that they "rot your brain"--but I feel that their potential to teach and inspire is no different than such works as the Harry Potter, City of Ember, the Artemis Fowl series, etc.

I know what sorts of thoughts still exist regarding comics: "Comic books are just a cheap story set to pictures" or "Comics are all a bunch of violent pictures strung together with profanity and nudity." Yes, some comics are nothing more than these. Just like some books are nothing more than cheaply-written sex scenes and mushy drivel (this is why books by Zane or Stephanie Meyer books aren't taught as literature).

Comic books retain a distinct ability to get into a character's head in a way that has yet to be effectively translated into other mediums like books or film. Additionally, the worlds created by comics are--more or less, but not exclusively--the new myths of the 21st century.

With this in mind, I submit the following list of comics as worthy of exploration:

Civil War
Superman/Batman:Supergirl
Superman/Batman: Absolute Power
Invincible Iron Man vol. 1
Just about anything from the Fantastic Four

Hatin' on da Baby Daddies

I hate the term "baby daddy." I hold nothing but the utmost contempt for the word and the fact that it has so thoroughly infiltrated our culture. Among several flaws with the term, the greatest, I feel, is that it is generally a prescriptive--rather than descriptive--label. And yet at the same time I must respect the concept behind the term; no other word in the English language picks out the specific set of criteria that "baby daddy" picks out. The need for such a word (though I should want for one that is less slang and more connotatively neutral) is significant if we are to accurately and--more importantly--honestly describe ourselves. Especially here in America, the nature of our relationships is blurring and evolving all the time: our definitions for family, interpersonal relationships, and even our selves are in constant flux.

It has become quite apparent that he status of the American family is in upheaval (not turmoil or jeopardy as many would have you believe). The concept of a family unit being strictly isolated to a mother, father, and 2.5 children seems, at times, as easy to find nowadays as a car phone or a dot matrix printer. However, despite this shift, the expectations that a family "should" be comprised of a wed man and wife as well as the children they have produced together is still persistent, even among many people whose family structure does not match this ideal.

Maybe if we were more informed about all the various ways a family can look, if we gave ourselves the language to honestly describe ourselves, we might not be so quick to bite and snarl at people whose differences would otherwise seem like "an attack on the institution of the American Family."

Land of the Lotus Eaters

Yes, Tony Hoagland, I, too, am asleep in America. And its noise is invading my dreams; my alarm clock becomes the sound of traffic outside, Oprah becomes the sound of my sophistication, porn becomes the sound of my idling thoughts. When I'm fortunate enough to wake for a moment I realize it's all as senseless as the time I chased Frankenstein across Mexico on a train with no tracks or the time I fled from zombies in New York by jumping from building-to-building and dodging the nets they threw at me (yes, zombies wield nets, and do so quite well).

And just as we all dream of falling, of breaking off our teeth, of showing up late for class naked, so, too, do we all dream of having consequence-free sex with beautiful strangers, caring about the mundane exploits of recognizable celebrities, and treating teachers with less respect than men who race cars for a living.

No, I, too, am asleep. And when I wake I am too upset by my dreams to get out of bed and wake up the few people I can. I wait for Odysseus to carry me away to his ship, since only a hero can do what is so far beyond the reach of the rest of us. I know that he's never going to arrive, and yet I'm too afraid to awaken even one of my companions by myself because I know I can't wake them all.