you gained the world, you gained the world and lost your soul

I’ve stated previously that I really don’t laugh that much. It’s not that I don’t find anything amusing, but that my inner WASPiness tends to preclude uninhibited displays of emotion. As one of the ‘bots once quipped on MST3K: “Emotions are for ethnic people.” (An observation reinforced by many a holiday spent in the company of my wild Hibernian in-laws.) Haughty indignation is easy, laughter is hard.

Consequently, my standard response to humor is a throaty, muted chuckle that sounds like I’m channeling either Muttley from the Wacky Racers cartoon or Sebastian from Josie and the Pussycats. Another point of reference, for anyone familiar with the documentary If I Should Fall From Grace, would be the jovial hiss that passes as Shane MacGowan’s toothless (literally, in his case) substitute for laughter.

It’s a very rare occasion when I find something able to elicit outright, out loud belly laughs, but it happened the other night when I came across this response to Kevin Church’s comments about an old DC romance comic story he posted on his site.

Now, Kevin’s a big boy, and certainly doesn’t need the likes of me defending him, so that’s not what I’m doing here in this post. (You can read his response here.) It’s the fact that this “Poison Ivy” managed to take the rather reasonable argument that Kevin’s mockery (it was not a formal review) of the story failed to take historical context and the target audience into account, and turn it into an excessively earnest and overdramatic rant that had me laughing so hard I was on the verge of puking up beef stew all over my keyboard.

Part of the unintentional hilarity comes form the writer’s tone, which is logarithmically disproportionate for a response to a throwaway Valentine’s Day post from a comics blog. Reading the opening line…

I meant to post this a week ago, but I got so aggravated that I had to walk away for a while. Yes, even mild-mannered romance comic editors get testy.

…evokes a miffed Joe Besser threatening “I’m going to give you such a pinch!” to Moe Howard on one of the later Three Stooges shorts, and sets the tone for the entire affair. When arguing a point, I’ve personally found it wise not to put folks in mind of a comedian who played second banana to Joey Bishop, but to each their own, I suppose.

Apart from the over-the-top tone of the piece, there’s an intoxicating mix of genre justification, pop psychology, and use of gender dichotomy as a convenient form of dismissal:

Sorry, but when it comes to romance stories aimed at a female audience, I am not inclined to give men equal voting rights.

...because guys are too busy talking football and auto repair to understand the nuances of a shitty work for hire comic book story.

I've ready plenty of romance comics. While I don't have the same affection them that I have for their teen comedy (read: Archie rip-off) cousins, there was a good deal of innovation going on in the romance (and horror) titles of the late 60's and early 70's. Much of it was on the artistic end, where the format provided more room for artistic experimentation than in the superhero titles of the time. (Check out Jim Steranko's story in the Marvel Romance trade or this cover, which I'd love to get framed and put up on my living room wall.)

That said, no historical or psychosocial context can alter the fact that "I Don't Love You Anymore" fails miserably in terms of plot and as a work of sequential art. As for what Miss Teen 1972 thought of it, I'm going to hazard a guess she shrugged her shoulders and moved onto reading another, better story.

Then there's the bit that nearly made half-digested potato shoot out of my nose:

As for the web site guy’s low opinion of this story, I’m not so sure he even likes romance or has any understanding of it. His comments were in the form of a ha-ha quiz. He used a vulgar term for lovemaking that suggests he does not have the romance sensibility.

I suggest reading that last bit aloud in your best Delta Burke voice. (George Takei’s voice works just as well, too, I’m told.)

It’s very hard to explain why one finds something funny, because humor, even the most cerebral variety, ultimately works on a gut level. This confluence of melodrama, self-righteousness, and use of the phrase “a vulgar term for lovemaking” hit the exact right note at the exact right time for me.

Thank you, “Poison Ivy,” for making me laugh about genre obsessions, again. Please don’t hold this against me when I submit my novella to your very fine, very pink site. It’s titled “Emerald Skies of Desire,” and here is an excerpt that I hope proves I do have “the romance sensibility” despite the frailties of my gender:

“I was hurt once, badly,” Dash said softly as he peered out the window of his private jet. “I vowed never to love again, but…”

Emerald looked down at the day planner on her lap, trying not to make eye contact with the man who had plucked her out of her mundane Midwestern existence and opened her eyes to the beauty and wonder of the world past the Iowa horizon. In the process, he had captured her heart, as well.

At that moment, there was no Dash McSwarthy, jet setting venture capitalist, or Emerald Skye, personal assistant. There were only two lonely individuals, and the aisle between was a gap beyond measure, a gap filled with heartsickness and yearning.

I’m still trying to decide on a pen name. Any suggestions?

Our musical component of today’s post is a rebuttal to the idea that vulgarity and romance are not mutually exclusive:

Machine Gun Fellatio – Not Afraid of Romance (from Bring It On, 2000) – The best kind of love involves 70’s wakka-chikka funk samples.

Nor are they incompatible with the female gender, as these two tracks from femvox Bay Area punk bands ably demonstrate:

VKTMS – Midget (from a 1979 single, collected on VKTMS, 1997)

The Nuns – Do You Want Me on My Knees (from Cupid’s Revenge, 1995)