when it was over, where did you go

Poor Captain America, if only he was more familiar with MySpace, all this could have been avoided.

Unless you’ve been locked in a Faraday cage stuffed under a large boulder, you’ve probably heard the news that Captain America has been killed off in a grand PR gesture by Marvel. Mike Sterling has an excellent tongue-in-cheek summation of the meta/media circus over at Progressive Ruin. My favorite part:

Remember the 'Death of Superman' all those years ago? And all the hype around it? To this day, I encounter people who see the Superman comics on the rack and ask me, 'Superman comics are still around? I thought he was dead.' I just don't see the advantage to convincing a public that's barely aware of comics in the first place that your most recognizable, marketable characters are no longer being published, all for the sake of a storyline that'll be resolved in, at most, a few months!

I understand Marvel’s pragmatism in how they announced Cap’s death to the media (on the day the issue shipped, before most comic readers had even picked up the title), but it’s pretty telling about where superhero comics actually stand in relation to other, more popular and ubiquitous forms of media. You don’t see ABC promoting upcoming episodes of Lost or studio PR flacks hyping M. Night Shyamalan’s latest film by giving away plot twists in the headers of their press releases. It may have been a wise move on Marvel’s part, but it screams, “Yes, we still publish those things” to a public unaware (or apathetic) about superhero comics. It’s only a spoiler when someone cares.

Even though I’m well aware that this is “Comicstown, Jake,” Cap’s death – as impermanent as it will likely turn out to be – has still left me feeling a little wistful, because his title was technically the first comics series I ever followed. I say “technically” because it was a matter of fandom by proxy. My little brother was a fan of the character from a very young age, and while my nine year old self was pulling random bits of Bronze Age DC and Marvel silliness from the three-for-a-buck bins at a local flea market, my tow-headed five year old sibling sought out old issues of Captain America with a laser-like intensity.

Later, back in the room we shared, when I finished reading my short stack of Metal Men, Brave and the Bold, and From Beyond The Unknown, I’d turn my attention to my brother’s new finds, and read those as well. As I got older and more independently mobile, I’d pick up the current issue of Cap for him when it hit the racks at the local direct market shop (three miles away, on the other side of the Aberjona River valley, whose topography resembles an inverse parabola and made for one hell of a bike ride). I’d also, when finances permitted, also seek out some of the back issues that tied into whatever story was currently running in the title.

So even though I wasn’t a big fan of Captain America, I ended up having a better grasp on the character and his history than I did on many titles I was actually enthusiastic about.

My brother’s collection eventually ballooned over the years, and included complete collections of Cap’s own title and its precursor run in Tales of Suspense, nearly every crossover and guest appearance of the character in other series, and a huge collection of Captain America merchandise from lead painted drinking glasses to toy cars to (his personal favorite) a disturbing-looking Kewpie Doll wearing Cap’s costume. He even made the effort to track down the actor who played Captain America in the 70’s made-for-TV movies to get him to sign a publicity still taken from the first film.

It was the Marvel Knights relaunch of the series, a sprawling mess of nonsensical plots spun by a rapidly cycling series of creative teams, which finally led my brother to quit keeping up with Captain America, and new comics in general. (That says a lot considering he stuck with the title even through previous story arcs involving Cap becoming a werewolf or doing the chicken dance while under the influence of crystal meth.) He sold or auctioned off most of the Cap collectibles, along with large chunks of his post-Silver Age inventory of comics, and began concentrating on acquiring complete runs of Marvel’s 1961-1973 comics output. His reasoning was that if he was going to buy crappy comics, he might as well buy ones that are interesting and of some value rather that waste his money on a five minute read that would end up in a trade paperback or quarter bin in a few months’ time.

Ah, to be a sane Marvel fan during this particular era. It’s like being Roy Batty at the end of Blade Runner, sticking rusty nails through one’s hand in hopes of feeling something, anything. My advice is not to fight it; the apathy is a defense mechanism.

Vixen – Fallen Hero (from Rev It Up, 1990) – I suppose I should be ashamed, but I’m actually thrilled about posting this track.

The Business – Blind Justice (from Suburban Rebels, 1981) – I used to get shit from some folks over my largish collection of Oi records. In the late 80’s and early 90’s, Oi compilations were the easiest way to get one’s hands on a lot of out of print UK82 punk material (mislabeled and used as filler on many of the comps).

Ashley MacIsaac – Captain America (from Ashley MacIsaac, 2003) – Dorian pointed this track out to me. “Sarcastic gay Canadian fiddler” (Wikipedia adds "controversial" to the mix): one of the most effective descriptions of a musician I’ve ever read, a string of words guaranteed to grab my attention and demand a listen. It’s a dig at American arrogance, so it would probably be more appropriate in reference to Ultimate Captain America.

“Surrender? You think this A on my forehead stands for France?”

“No, but given the sorry state of America’s public education system, I can understand why you might be confused about it.”