Nerdly Advice – 09/15/09
Sep 15Nerds have questions, but nerds have to appear authoritative or risk losing their nerdy cred.
That’s why, as a recurring feature on Alert Nerd, Jeff answers these conundrums anonymously. It’s like Dear Abby as written by Danny Chase. We call it Nerdly Advice.
New Blog: Trouble With Comics
Sep 14
Because I don’t have enough to do already with my infinite reserves of leisure time, and because I just can’t stop these fingers moving over these keys, I’ve accepted Alan David Doane’s gracious invitation to join the motley crew over at Trouble With Comics.
I hope to post as much as possible over there; at this point, I’m thinking mainly short link pieces. But my main contribution will be up soon (I hope): A new regular column on one of my favorite subjects. Here’s a clue:
Stuff We Like This Week: September 11 Edition
Sep 11
In an effort to combat our occasional…okay, okay, near-constant negativity, we give you a regular feature full of nothing but love — Stuff We Like This Week. Appearing every Friday, SWLTW will recap the things that have set our little nerdly hearts aflame within the past seven days.
A Letter From Superman
Sep 09Dear DC Comics “friends,”
What the fuck?
No, seriously, what the fuck? W. T. F?!
You guys change up the whole show over there and I don’t even get a phone call, an e-mail, a tweet? A little early warning? Shit, I gave DiDio that stupid goddamned signal watch. USE IT.
Anyway, I’m not sure you give a shit what I think at this point, but on the off chance you do, here’s the gist:
I KNOW WHO I AM.
I’m goddamned Superman. My pal Bruce, he’s the goddamned Batman. Diana? WONDER WOMAN.
We know who we are. I hope you do too. I’m not some bright-ass icon that needs to be “darker” so that Spike Jonze can run my life through a blender and make a cross between Starman and Crank. I’m not the underpants you shove on your toddlers when they’re done with the diapers, and I’m not even the comic book bullshit that comes out on a monthly, or bi-monthly, or whenever-the-fuck-you-feel-like-it basis.
I’m goddamned Superman. Like I said. People come along every so often and try to fuck around with me, but I endure. I’m death and taxes; I’m Jesus with a cape. I’m not going anywhere, so give it your best shot, if you want. Hip me up; cram me into animated mobile webisodes with optional ringtone bonus and make me swear because Joel Silver thinks it’s cool. I don’t give a shit. I’ll still be here; you might not be, but I will.
And I don’t even know if you’re gonna fuck everything up; for all I know, you’re going to get off your asses and finally put comic books on the damned COMPUTER like every other free-thinking non-caveman creature on the planet. And maybe you’ll hire some decent people to do decent things with our movies for a change. Maybe I won’t feel like I’m flying around working for the goddamned publishing version of the Edsel corporation anymore. I hope you rock it out, but if you fall flat on your human faces, it don’t matter.
One more time, cause I kinda like saying it: I’m goddamned Superman.
I hope we’re clear on that.
Up up and whatever,
Clark
The Direct Market: Goodbye, Baby, And Amen.
Sep 09
Chris Butcher has a terrific piece up on the failings of the current Diamond distribution system; Tom Spurgeon agrees. I think Frank Santoro got there first.
What struck me most though was a passing comment in Heidi Macdonald’s link to the piece:
We’d quibble with that a little– doing business with multiple distributors is something most retail outlets have to deal with, so for those retailers willing to put on their big boy pants, it’s perfectly fine.
“…something most retail outlets have to deal with…”
“…big boy pants…”
To me, that’s the key here.
If we’re really saying farewell forever to the comics retail direct market as it was known for, what, 20-odd years? then we’re really saying “howdy” to an environment built from the outset to support multiple points of view, to place the power of selling and fostering the artform at the hands of (mostly) intelligent retailers instead of at the whims of a single monolithic terrifying and often incompetent distributor; the comic book store as we knew it will no longer exist, and something better will hopefully take its place.
I feel like it’s time to skip ahead to the end and call this corpse while it’s still fresh. The experiences outlined by Butcher in his piece are undoubtedly the same experiences many savvy comics retailers are already having. These are the folks interested in supporting a variety of artistic viewpoints and serving readers with the type of customer service that nurtures their habits and embraces their enthusiasm, not the “superhero convenience stores” Alan David Doane has written about.
For a retailer like Butcher–or, I expect, Brian Hibbs or James Sime or others across the continent–the direct market isn’t dying; the direct market IS ALREADY DEAD.
Where does this leave us?
