Signal Boost: Preserving Classic Video Games with RetroRGB
Let’s give the Proverbs a week off and talk about Secret Empire. For those who haven’t followed, this was Marvel’s annual shitty summer crossover, this time with the premise that history has been rewritten to make Captain America a Hydra sleeper agent who has now taken over the US. So basically, “what if Captain America were secretly a Nazi?” This has been widely panned, even moreso than Marvel’s summer crossovers usually are. On the one hand, this is entirely appropriate, as Secret Empire is not only one of the worst-written crossovers in superhero history but also one of the most flatly evil. On the other, relatively few people have actually articulated this, with an alarming number of critiques of the comic instead being exercises in point-missing far almost as epic than the crossover itself.
Perhaps the most spectacularly off-base thing to be frequently said about the comic is that its premise is an insult to the legacy of Captain America co-creator and avowed Nazi-puncher Jack Kirby. It is difficult to entirely grasp the value system under which making a fictional character he drew forty-three issues of into a fascist is an insult to his legacy but the basic existence of Marvel Comics as a corporate entity built on the systematic exploitation of his labor is not. Certainly it is not a value system worth taking seriously. But it is a commonly expressed one, in a way that is revealing about what superheroes, as a genre, have decomposed into over the seventy-six years since Captain America’s creation.
The second spectacularly wrongheaded objection to Secret Empire is closely related, namely the idea that its premise is anything short of brilliant. Of course Captain America as a fascist is a sensible story idea. He’s a blonde-haired, blue-eyed “super-soldier” named Captain America. The concept has always flirted with fascism, as has the superhero concept in general, with its fantasy of puissant men in uniforms who will protect us from danger and change. Exploring that tension has often been brilliant, whether consciously and carefully as in Alan Moore’s Miracleman and Kieron Gillen’s Uber, or with reckless overenthusiasm as in Frank Miller’s The Dark Knight Returns and Steve Ditko’s Mr. A. As premises for crossovers go, it’s far better than “a superhero civil war over the ethics of predicting the future,” “heroes and villains switch places,” or “Secret Wars again.”
But premises aren’t everything, and Nick Spencer, the writer of Secret Empire, is spectacularly the wrong man for the job. To knock down one last bad argument about the series, this is not because he’s a borderline fascist. He was a centrist who ran for Cincinnati city council as a Republican in 2005 and drifted to the Democratic party in the wake of the Tea Party and Trump. His politics are shitty in almost the precise way you would expect from that, and indeed slightly shittier given that he’s a thin-skinned Twitter bully to boot. In most regards this is considerably preferable to being a fascist, but unfortunately not when it comes to writing Secret Empire.…
At long last, here is Drunken Whocast 3.
Myself, Daniel, James, and Kit, gathered on Skype to discuss Series 3 while getting progressively sozzled. This time we avoided getting drawn into speculations about the orgasms of prominent right-wingers, but still managed to fly off in all sorts of irrelevant and awful directions. Many things were said, with all the authority of drunk white guys, that were very wrong – in both senses. (The actual libels have been removed – even the true ones.) Even so, there’s a fair bit of good, solid Doctor Who talk here. We all find Series 3 pretty interesting, it seems.
I must apologise for my posts being sporadic at the moment. I’m desperately trying to finish off some other (non-postable) projects while coping with a real life that is increasing frantic on both a work and personal level. I’m grateful to all of you for being patient – and especially to those Patreon sponsors of mine who are, at the moment, basically giving me money for nothing. Bless you all. If you want to give me money for nothing, go here.
Here, by the way, are the Patreons of James and Kit. And here’s Phil’s/Eruditorum Press’s. Daniel doesn’t have one yet, but I’m sure he’ll figure out a way for you to give him money if you want to. Just in case you felt like sponsoring people who are actually producing stuff at the moment.
…
Over the summer, I posted a rough draft of what I called a “Reading Guide” for Tom and Jerry. You know. The cat and mouse cartoon. I’ve since rewatched the series and revised my picks and criteria, so here’s “Version 2”.
(Also, apparently something happened with the latest DTV Tom and Jerry movie? Apparently it went mememtic this summer without me noticing?)
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I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the history of animation, particularly during the Golden Age, these past few months for a variety of reasons. I used to watch theatrical shorts all the time on Cartoon Network and I have a real affinity for that genre, but I think I’ve come to the conclusion now that Tom and Jerry is probably my favourite out of all the Golden Age series. Naturally, it’s the most controversial one.
YAKIMONO: A course of flame-grilled meat. There are a number of episodes this would be a sensible title for, none of which are this one.
MIRIAM LASS: I remember a dream about drowning. Then being awake. And not awake. Being myself, and not myself. I remember I could smell salt air. We were by the sea. For weeks. Months. Longer. Days and evenings blurred, I’d wake up to the smell of fresh flowers and the sting of a needle. I wasn’t afraid. Fear and pain were so far away, on the horizon, but not close. Never close.
Miriam’s description is loosely adapted from a description of Hannibal’s brainwashing of Clarice from Hannibal.
ALANA BLOOM: They found a witness. A survivor. The only victim of the Chesapeake Ripper who lived to tell.
HANNIBAL: Is this witness watching me now?
ALANA BLOOM: Yes.
HANNIBAL: It seems I am the usual suspect.
ALANA BLOOM: I keep having angry, imaginary conversations with Jack Crawford about that. I wish I could tell you why this is happening.
Why are Alana’s conversations imaginary? She showed no hesitation in picking a fight with Jack in season one, nor at the beginning of season two when she started an investigation into his conduct. The charitable explanation – and it’s far from clear such charity is warranted when dealing with apparent inconsistencies in Alana’s characterization – is that she does not bring the matter up with Jack because she is afraid of what Jack will say to defend his position.
WILL GRAHAM: This is very sudden.
DR. CHILTON: The federal prosecutor has dropped all charges. Since you weren’t convicted of killing anyone, the basis for your sentencing to this institution is null and void. The Chesapeake Ripper has set you free.
Endearingly meta, given that we last saw Will early in “Futamono,” have seen none of the procedural wheels involved in this, and the cliffhanger had nothing to do with Will’s release. As a result, Will’s release feels slightly out of nowhere for all that it’s been anticipated for six episodes.
DR. CHILTON: Why didn’t Hannibal just kill you?
WILL GRAHAM: Because he wants to be my friend.
There’s no reason, in the script alone, why this line, which is mostly a restatement of previous sentiments, should be immediately iconic. It’s good, sure, but not in and of itself brilliant. Dancy’s delivery, on the other hand, full of both condescension towards Chilton and incredulity at the absurd thing he has to say in order to understand the basic fact of his drawing breath, is a thing of wonder and ensures that this is up there with “I love your work” and… well, we’ll talk about that next episode.
JACK CRAWFORD: You need a ride?
WILL GRAHAM: I was going to call a cab.
The untroubled ease with which Jack and Will resume their friendship is a nice callback to the tone of the final scene of “Coquilles.”
…JACK CRAWFORD: Miriam thanked me. When we found her. For not giving up on her.
I was just popping by to tell you lot about a brilliantly fun new entry in the Amicus podcast from myself and Lee Russell, which you’ll find here http://pexlives.libsyn.com/city-of-the-dead-14-asylum and will offer you just the tonic. If you like old Doctor Who, this sort of stuff is right up your alley. And if you don’t, you’ll probably dig it too.
I was just going to do that and be on my way, but I noticed that there was no Friday post from that wine chugging layabout J. Graham, so I thought I’d be your subsitute leftist for the week and post this recent essay that had previously been exclusively available to those who support me on Patreon. Feel free to throw paper airplanes and leave tacks on my chair in the comments below.
All over the world, white supremacists are flexing their pale, flabby muscles in this new age of online organising. In America, an emboldened, far-right Republican party controls the government. The Southern Strategy has made the Republican Party as hard right, as racist, and as popular as it is now. The strategy was (and is) the winking and ever more thinly veiled appeal to racist whites in the South and elsewhere. Vote for us, it promised with seductive gestures towards prejudice against blacks, and we’ll take care of crime and immigration.
The Southern Strategy was pioneered by Barry Goldwater and Richard Nixon in the 1960s and took thousands of anti-civil rights bigots away from their traditional home in the Democratic Party. Credit is also due to the now-dead, once-sentient hemorrhoid, Roger Ailes, who was later an instrumental force behind the shaping and running of the Fox News network and all of its crimes against humanity. The Republicans subsequently had crushing electoral success in 1968 and rode the strategy again and again to the Presidency.
The logical endpoint of moving further and further in this toxic, backward direction is the kind of Presidential campaign run with intolerant and vicious effectiveness by Donald Trump, New York millionaire and media personality, in 2016. There is no need to dredge once more over the motherfucker’s worst moments on the campaign trail here.
Donald Trump now squats in the White House (built by people who were whipped, beaten, and enslaved because of the tint of the colour of their skin) thanks mostly to the suppression of votes from non-whites, the new Jim Crow, and the work of one of the United States’ most cerebral slaveholders. James Madison advocated for the Electoral College as a way to give the slave states an advantage against the more populous so-called free states in the choice of President.
Plantation slavery in the US was not that long ago, however much the black and white photographs may tie it in our minds to some prehistoric era that doesn’t need consideration, like the Roman destruction of Carthage. That we all still live with slavery’s malignant after effects is evidence enough of its closeness. To get the beginnings of an idea of what that simple word ‘slavery’, which we can be in danger of eliding over, meant (as well as its intrinsic link to the growth of capital) I recommend Edward E.…
FUTAMONO: A soup dish served in a lidded pot. Most obviously a reference to the final scene, in which Jack discovers Miriam in a covered hole.
WILL GRAHAM: You’re moving smoothly and slowly, Jack, carrying your concentration like a brimming cup.
Another case of using one of Thomas Harris’s characteristically vivid similes in an unexpected context – originally it is Francis Dolarhyde who thusly carries his concentration as he sets up to peruse home movies and decide on his next victim.
JACK CRAWFORD: And then you told him to kill Hannibal Lecter.
WILL GRAHAM: Nothing I said made that happen, Jack. It just happened.
JACK CRAWFORD: Don’t seem too broken up about it.
WILL GRAHAM: There is a common emotion we all recognize and have not yet named. The happy anticipation of being able to feel contempt.
Two Thomas Harris lines in rapid succession. This one comes from Hannibal, where the emotion play across the face of Margot Verger as she’s preparing to introduce Clarice to her brother. Its poetry comes from the fact that we do not, in fact, quite recognize the emotion, as the act of recognizing an emotion is in a large part coextensive with the act of naming it. The emotion does, however, cohere – once it is named, even in the nine-word formulation offered by Harris, it immediately becomes possible to recognize it, which in turn perpetuates the experience of it.
WILL GRAHAM: I have contempt for the Ripper. I have contempt for what he does.
JACK CRAWFORD: What does he do, Will?
WILL GRAHAM: What does he do? What is the first and principal thing he does? What need does he serve by killing?
And the hat trick; Will’s question is the same one Hannibal asks of Clarice regarding Buffalo Bill in Silence of the Lambs. I can’t see anything else in the scene that looks distinctively Harrisesque, so doubt Fuller got a Hannibal Rising line in as well, but then again, that’d be the book that doesn’t stand out.
WILL GRAHAM: The Ripper kills in sounders of three or four, in quick order. Do you know why? I know why.
JACK CRAWFORD: Tell me.
WILL GRAHAM: Because if he waits too long, then the meat spoils.
JACK CRAWFORD: He’s eating them? Hannibal Lecter is Garret Jacob Hobbs? A cannibal?
WILL GRAHAM: Not like Garret Jacob Hobbs. Hobbs ate his victims to honor them. The Ripper eats his victims because they’re no better to him than pigs.
I was tempted to make this entire post consist of an annotation regarding the pigs comparison, but it would amount to a rewrite of my previous essays “Capitalist Pig” and “Capitalist Pig 2: This Time It’s About Cancer.”
…HANNIBAL: A remarkably-lean organ, the heart. Funny how we revere and romanticize a simple pump. Merely a muscle. Yet such a potent symbol of life and the things that make us human, good and bad. Love and ache.
ALANA BLOOM: All of them skewered.
HANNIBAL: It’s a thematic dish.
Being aro/ace is queer. End of story! To say that anyone who’s not cishet normative doesn’t belong at the queer “table” (as if being queer were some kind of banquet, Hannibal?) doesn’t really understand what it is to be queer at all. So let’s pick up the harp and let’s dance.
“radical”: late 14c., in a medieval philosophical sense, from Late Latin radicalis “of or having roots,” from Latin radix (genitive radicis) “root” (see radish ). Meaning “going to the origin, essential” is from 1650s.
Here’s what being queer, in any sense, often entails:
In other words, nothing nice.
These are all things that ace people have experienced. These are all things that gays and lesbians have experienced. These are all things that bisexuals have experienced. These are all things that trans people have experienced. These are all things that intersexed people have experienced. Why? Because we’re all queer. Because we all deviate from the expectations of straight people.
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I’m a big fan of etymology. It’s a way of getting to the root of a word, of seeing where it came from. Because of course words change over the eons. “Nice” for example derives from Latin nescius “ignorant, unaware,” literally “not-knowing,” from ne– “not” + stem of scire “to know” (see science). And then it changed to “timid,” then “fastidious,” then “precise” and “careful” and “delicate” before becoming “agreeable” and “kind” and “thoughtful.” Over time, it’s been turned inside-out, polarity reversed and all that. What a queer word!
“Queer” is the perfect word to describe the history of “nice.” “Queer” derives from the c.1500, “strange, peculiar, eccentric” from Scottish, perhaps from Low German (Brunswick dialect) queer “oblique, off-center,” related to German quer “oblique, perverse, odd,” from Old High German twerh “oblique,” from PIE root *terkw– “to turn, twist, wind.” Huh, looks like we got something in common with twerking, too.
Oblique, off-center, turned… in other words, not straight. This is the geometry of being queer, or perhaps the square root of it to be particularly nerdish, and with particular thanks to Harper’s Etymological dictionary.
So what does building solidarity look like? Damn, it looks like looking in the mirror, I think! Conversely, what does excluding aro/ace from queerdom look like? It looks like, I dunno, like saying that because someone under the queer umbrella has an easier time of passing for straight we might as well just pretend that they’re straight? It’s like demanding someone stay in the closet.
That’s what we all have in common. The damn closet, from late 14c. French closet “small enclosure, private room,” diminutive of clos “enclosure,” from Latin clausum “closed space, enclosure, confinement,” from neuter past participle of claudere “to shut”. In Matt. vi:6 it renders Latin cubiculum “bedchamber, bedroom,” Greek tamieion “chamber, inner chamber, secret room;” thus originally in English “a private room for study or prayer.”…