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“Finding Hope in Hopelessness”
“Living in a post-JLA world”

Written by: Rick Remender
Art by: Mat Broome
Published by: Dark Horse Comics

There isn’t much to do with an iconic super hero team. Most teams seem to be versions of either the Justice League (or the Justice Society or the historically nitpicky) or the Avengers. But whenever someone wants to examine the mythic or iconic nature of heroes, they tend to deconstruct the Justice League. From The Authority to the Squadron Supreme, all roads begin with the JLA. So what happens when you turn the conventions of a super hero book on its head?

“I had, and have always, sought to use my power for ethical and moral purposes. For this the world branded me a hero as if I was behaving extraordinarily.” –Astonishman

Cynicism led to arrogance as his faith in humanity eroded and now Astonishman lives with the guilt of his choices using regret to fuel his mission. With Astonishman, we have a tortured main character set against a dystopian landscape. He believes himself to be living a lie as a hero since, in a moment of arrogance, he accidently destroyed the world in May 1962. Led by bad information and arrogance, he set off what would called “The Green Event”. Three billion people died and of the survivors, 1 in a 10000 would mutate ushering in the age of super heroes. The Magnificents would inherit the earth.

The seemingly cheesy names--Astonishman, Brother Occult, Arachna Kid, etc.—were inspired by different eras of comic book history. A simpler time when the idea of super heroes first stamped themselves on our cultural consciousness. It's a perfect example of the continuing problem with the book: a good idea that stumbles in the execution.

“The only difference between a good man and a bad one … good men don’t act on the evil impulses we all have.” –Astonishman

At this point, The End League would seem little different than a darker version of The 4400, Rising Stars, or Heroes, which is why Remender adds one more twist to fully set the stage. As if in a parallel universe where evil is the natural state of things, the heroes being the story in hiding and on the run. The villains cut down most of them in a coordinated attack, essentially winning the day and achieving what villains have always dreamed of: world domination. The heroes scramble to survive, defending a society which searches for scraps of food among what’s left of their world.

“A chance for redemption will present itself.” –Mother Hive

Some might call this a pessimistic view of humanity. After all, the essential message of the book is that with super powers, humanity would wreck the world in months instead of centuries. That there are more people operating as “self-seeking egotists” than good; unfortunately, it seems to be a bleak worldview shaped by current events.

The End League, as well as its precursor (for the historically nitpicky) the Squadron of Righteousness, both were imperfect vessels. We could almost call them a church, a group of gifted ones living and gathering as communities of people for the sake of a greater cause. They were a collective embodiment of a new way of living, trying to build a better world, and setting an example simply by being. Their existence alone brings hope, if they live out their mission to be a blessing to others and participate in the redemption of creation. Sure, they’ve screwed up along the way in their arrogance and certainty, operating out of their own might and influence. So the book examines the issue of what gives hope to the mission; what gives light to those living in utter darkness. Because hope is what anyone needs to go on and people can only operate out of a clear understanding of what it is they hope in.

The End League is a bit of a mess. At least the first issue, it suffers from too much exposition as it sets up the world we are entering. It’s difficult to create and populate an entirely new universe, especially within the confines of his high concept. Remender leans on our familiarity with the DC archetypes (Superman, Wonder Woman, The Flash) then mixes in Marvel ones for variety (Spider-Man, Captain America) rather than introducing any of the characters. The exquisite art makes up for any drag in story rendering action sequences with a deft touch, but reading Astonishman brood issue after issue will get old really quick.


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[cross-posted on Blogging in Black]

In 2004, I went to the World Horror Convention in Phoenix, Arizona; a long way away from my hometown of Indianapolis. As a struggling writer, I couldn’t afford to go alone (much less with my spouse), but knew that the contacts I could make there would be invaluable to my career. So I opted to room with a friend, one Chesya Burke. We’d just met the year before at the Kansas City World Horror Convention (where she won the flash fiction contest and I won the short story contest). It’s not like we were especially close, little more than acquaintances really. So one night during the convention, I followed a young lady back to her room because she had a book to give me. When I walked back to the hotel lobby, there was Chesya, one hand on her hip, the other on her cell phone, foot angrily tapping.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“If you’d spent three more minutes in that heifer’s room, I was going to call your wife.”

And thus when my wife fell in love with Chesya. I had no choice in being friends with her after that.

Interwebz, can I confide in you for a moment? Sure this is old hat to some guys who are 6’ 6” with the sculpted figure of a mocha Adonis and who shall remain nameless though we recently released a novella co-written together, but women pushing up on me, that’s a new thing or me. I know full well that I’m an up and coming writer, but I’ve been at some cons where some ladies have groped me in ways only my wife (or my gloved doctor) have. As much as a sex magnet as I may appear to be on the Internet (*scowls at the chorus of rolling eyeballs*), it’s not something this D&D playing, nose always in a book, first hand raised in Sunday School class nerd type is used to.

[On the reality scale, the facts of life were laid down to me by John Scalzi. “Maurice, young padwan, on the standard bell of looks, you’d be about here.” And he pointing to not nearly high enough on the bell for my tastes. “Now, put yourself in the context of a genre convention.” Suddenly, I’m climbing that bell curve. “These are the harsh facts of life, it’s not because you’re suddenly sexy. Though you are quite the sexy man.”**]

I am way, way, way off point.

Now, we’ve all (and by we, I especially mean our spouses) have heard the stories of people losing their minds at conventions. Getting drunk, sleeping around, and otherwise losing their minds. It’s like they get away from the routine of their world and become high schoolers all over again. And let’s face facts, there is quite the poly*** contingent active especially in the genre community.

So I have designated con wives. Sure, to some it looks like I have an impressive posse of ladies in my coteries. And I’m otherwise content to let you believe that, but know that as appealing as it may look on the surface, what you are in fact witnessing are my wife’s direct eyes and ears. It’s a trust issue. It’s about accountability, because I know my strengths and more importantly, my weaknesses. I would trust me as far as I could throw me on a good day. Faithfulness has always been a struggle for me, then throw in alcohol … there’s no point in pretending there won’t be a problem.

My wife has to know, like, and trust the women I am staying with. (She doesn’t trust the guys all that much. Oddly enough, men have a reputation for covering for one another).

So to me, this is just a matter of dealing with potential trouble you see coming. Know yourself and your limits, then set the proper safeguards. Nothing system is perfect, but you don’t want to have any unnecessary stumbling blocks and you want to avoid the obvious snares.

Although, all the con wives in the world were not going to allow me a pass to attend KillerCon**** on my lonesome. (Something about me with the aforementioned black Adonis in Las Vegas ... not going to happen). So if I’m to go to that, rest assured that the real deal spouse will be at my side.


*It was either title it that or “Polygamy: I’m doing it wrong”

**This is the way I’m choosing to remember this. Bite me, Interwebz.

***Polyamorous. Go look them up if you don’t know what I’m talking about. They don’t worry me nearly as much as the otherkin. Go look them up if you want, but it’ll make you want to quit the Interwebz.

****The First Annual Las Vegas KillerCon! Heather Graham, Joe Lansdale, L.A. Banks, Brian Keene. The Horror, Thriller, and Paranormal Romance genres collide in this inaugural writers convention at the Palace Station Hotel next September 17th through the 20th. This event will feature panel discussions, readings, and author Q&As with our guests of honor and many other top talents in Fear Fiction. Go to www.killercon.org for more information and to register for the convention.


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Weekend at Eddie’s
"The Things a Father will Do"

You’d think Eddie’s got it made, wouldn’t ya? Sure he’s been kicked plenty by the demonic crime families, maybe even more than his fair share—but them’s the breaks when you’ve sold your soul and ended up cursed for your troubles. Even considering his habit of getting in over his head where the infernal are concerned, Eddie’s managed to wriggle out from under Big All Aligheri’s thumb and position himself as the owner of The Gehenna Room nightclub. And even though he has a knack for futzing around where the demons don’t want him, it don’t hurt none that he also has this knack for coming back from the dead if anybody touches his corpse—leaving whoever touched him pushing up daisies In his place … when he dies, even for a short time, he catches a glimpse of a ghostly otherworld populated with lost souls, one of whom might be his own dear old mother.

A sequel to Bunn and Hurtt’s demon noir tale The Damned was inevitable as well as appreciated. There were plenty of questions about our hero, Eddie, and his past remaining. Rather than tread water, the duo mines new territory by focusing on family. Eddie springs from the tradition of the Jim Rockford (The Rockford Files), the private investigator who dives into situations and often gets his butt kicked. Cursed by beings known as the Verlochin, Eddie meanders along confidently as the loner, his actions and choices impact those around him, even those he thought left behind like his equally cursed brother (Morgan) and gone-but-not-forgotten mother.

“Ya could at least pretend to care that I’m the one who gets marked every time ya pull one of yer grifts.” –Morgan

The layered story involves flashbacks from Eddie and Morgan's childhood when they witnessed their father making deals with demons, the love/hate relationship between the brothers (every time Eddie dies, his brother Morgan receives a new scar), and the intriguing family dynamic surrounding demon adversary and his own daughter. But it all comes back to Eddie.

Eddie believes himself fully in control of his various dealings and situations. His foolish plans stem from him thinking that he has everything figured out. Thus he ends up dead for a good chunk of the series while his corpse is whisked from one bad scenario to a worse one. One of the axioms thrown at people is that once you hit rock bottom, once reached the end of your ability to do things on your own, God has you exactly where He wants you: dependent on Him. That might be one way of looking at a prodigal son.

“There ain’t no coming back from the dead. At least not for most of us.” –Morgan

The story of the prodigal son is found in Luke 15:11-32. Basically, there was a man with two sons, both of whom he wanted to follow in his footsteps. The prodigal decided to ask for his share of the inheritance so that he could live life on his own terms, while the other remained with his father. Soon, however, the road got rough and the prodigal ended up doing all sorts of things to survive, eventually hitting rock bottom. He realized that he had placed himself in that situation, prayed about it, and returned home. His father ran to him when he saw him and prepared a huge celebration for him in order to say “welcome home.” In other words, it is a story of ruin and reconciliation – a story of a spiritual journey.

When you understand the culture of the original story, you understand that when the prodigal asks his father for his share of the inheritance, he was wishing that his father were dead. When the father runs to the son, he shames himself (first century Jewish men never ran). But the father didn’t stop loving him because he’s rebelled and failed. The son beat himself up with the consequences of his decisions.

The subtext of Eddie’s dilemma is that each time he dies, he’s transported to a kind of purgatory while he waits for a resurrection. His life is one of continuing mistakes and continual rebirths, hopefully the wiser at each turn. The prodigal’s conviction of faith has to be a matter of repentance; to the life he was meant to lead, and then be reconciled with the people in his life. That’s what marks most journeys, mistakes and moving forward.

The Father remains his father and has an inheritance he can’t squander.

Based solidly in character, the non-stop action of The Damned: Prodigal Sons delivers both horror and darkly comic turns. Bunn, with a solid ear for dialogue and a tight script, crams a lot into the reading experience with his dense script and Hurtt is phenomenal at capturing the gloom of the story. Not only does he deliver action sequences, but he captures the emotions of the characters in every panel.

During the Oni Press panel at Comic Con, Cullen Bunn announced his upcoming horror graphic novel, The Hollows. Due in 2009, it gives us something else to look forward to.


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Since I've probably been dropped from all of the Christian feeds I was on over the weekend ...

(swiped from Sofia Coppola, I mean, Nick Kaufmann)

Your result for The Director Who Films Your Life Test...

Quentin Tarantino

Your film will be 49% romantic, 31% comedy, 42% complex plot, and a $ 42 million budget.

Take The Director Who Films Your Life Test at HelloQuizzy

[Now forget about the bad man from the weekend. These were not the boobies you were looking for.]

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Back when I was in Youth Group, we went on a one of those week long retreats, pretty similar to an intense Bible Camp. Well, during the free time of our first day, a group of us were in a swimming pool and a group of us were frolicking about merrily when one of my friends lost her bikini top. This happened right in front of me and another kid who happened to be three years my junior. After a few moments, I pointed out to her that she had lost her top. She grabbed it, ducked underwater, came up a little red-cheeked from the experience, but otherwise intact. We had a good laugh about it. The only lingering tell-tale sign that something transcendent had occurred was only in the fact that for the rest of that week, the kid who was my junior followed her around like a lost puppy. It was as if he’d seen the face of God and now lived in expectation of seeing Him again.

As I recalled that formative moment from my youth, I had an epiphany: I have a one word proof text for the existence of God: boobies. All me to exegete this from Scripture:

“He is before all things, and in him all things hold together.” Colossians 1:17

God made everything. Including boobies.

“A loving doe, a graceful deer—may her breasts satisfy you always, may you ever be captivated by her love.” Proverbs 5:19

See? We’re commanded to be satisfied in them. Who can't get behind a God like that? And there’s even a textual example as Solomon rolls out the big pimpin’ lines (though I don't know what kind of women he was hanging out with as he kept comparing boobies to fawns earlier in the book):

“Your stature is like that of the palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit. I said, "I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit."” Song of Solomon 7:7-8

That’s why they call these books the wisdom passages! Holla if you hear me! Even Aaron had to raise his hands in the air and wave them like he just didn’t care:

“Aaron waved the breasts and the right thigh before the LORD as a wave offering, as Moses commanded.” Leviticus 9:21

And for those who doubt the application of such a revelation, go see my friend Evie expound on how the church is like a bra.**

I can’t relate at all to folks taking a verse out of context and building a whole message out of it. But I obviously have time to kill. I have no idea why I’m always on speaking probation at my church. That’s why we have this blog. MauriceBroaddus.com: your one-stop shop for theology and boobies.

Yeah, I probably won't be asked to write anymore tracts. Hey, I've been sick and I'm high on medication. That's right, boy, I've been cooking up some Thera Flu.


*Um, all of you daughters of Eve may want to go ahead and skip this one. BTW, the alternative title for this one was “My Bible brings all the boys to the yard”

**Hmm, why don’t I post this on a Saturday when people are less likely to be reading this.


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