With 2 Days Until Civil War II #3...

Spoilery image after the break...

Flinging Radioactive Monkey Crap at 'Incredible Hulk' #5

CAUTION: This entry contains SPOILERS for Incredible Hulk #5. You have have been warned.
 

Over the last few months, since the first issue of the new Incredible Hulk series shipped, I've been less than enthusiastic. Some of it's had to do with the woeful lack of artistic consistency in the series. Even today, the interiors are supplied by no less than seven artists apparently just so that this series can ship on-time like DC Comics' "New 52" relaunch. Image Comics founders Marc Silvestri and Whilce Portacio have brought their talents to the series. At least Silvestri helped make the book's relaunch more high-profile than it had any right to be, but he only remained three issues (or less). Portacio took over with the fourth issue, and even contributed to a few pages of the second, but he too has been caught in an artistic rut without room to maneuver. The covers, meanwhile, have been the most visually stunning part of each issue, with the interiors inevitably failing to live up to their promise. This fact is especially, painfully true with the introduction of Leinil Yu, whose art would look, dare I say, incredible on the interiors. Okay, okay--it's not all sunshine and rainbows for Yu, who seems to be actively ignoring the look of the Hulk inside the book, choosing instead to portray him with a high bowl cut instead of the long hair and beard he wears within each story.

And the stories, concerning Banner's separation from the Hulk, well...

Leave it to Marvel to complete their own metaphor:

I would say that "getting hit in the face with radioactive monkey crap" is this year's "jumping the shark," but the fact remains that Marvel's Incredible Hulk went downhill somewhere in the planning stages when they decided one of the Future Foundation's series regulars would be behind the titular character's separation from Bruce Banner during the summer crossover Fear Itself. The revelation of his identity and the method through which he separated the duo is supposed to cast further events in a new light, and to a point that happens. However, it also points out a number of flaws in the original story as it was devised, and hints very strongly at the resolution.

Does Marvel want to kill Bruce Banner?

The Magic 8-Ball says, "Signs point to yes."

Yes, I've been wrong before. Still, with all the signs we've gotten recently, the first of which was Banner's huge brain tumor in issue #2, the possibility is out there.

In issue #3, we saw the Hulk and Banner shortly after their separation, in front of their mysterious benefactor, with the latter wondering what the Hulk would do now that he had his freedom. And back in Fear Itself #7 we saw what immediately followed the separation, with Banner waking up attached to an I.V. in the middle of nowhere and the Hulk leaping away as the scientist realized, with horror, what had been done to him.

Of course, since then Banner has gone seriously off his rocker. Was it the trauma of separation itself that had triggered his psychosis? He found an island once used for atomic testing, where he could act like Dr. Moreau, endowing the various animals with human-like intelligence and "hulked-out" forms using gamma radiation. He's mutated warthogs, gorillas, octopi, bats, rodents, and even little monkeys that can't escape the propensity to fling poo...

Ahem. Where was I?

With Doctor Doom revealed as the architect of this latest separation--something that, truthfully, we should have seen coming the moment someone with the last name of "Von Doom" showed up in the series--we not only have someone who is among Marvel's smartest known characters, we also have someone with an ax to grind against Bruce Banner, if not his atavistic alter-ego. After all, it was during "Fall of the Hulks" that a depowered Bruce Banner allowed the Leader and MODOK to use a "dumb ray" to blunt Doom's intelligence. And then, when the remainder of the smartest men regained their intellect in "World War Hulks," Banner tricked Doom into thinking he'd also regained his intelligence (but he hadn't). It took intervention by the Future Foundation, the expanded version of the Fantastic Four, for Doom to regain what he'd lost by copying it from the brain of Kristoff Vernard, a young man imprinted with Doom's unique engrams.

Of course Doom remembers what Banner did to him. I don't mind that part. It provides a reason for Doom to have incorrectly "wired" the new Banner clone he grew. Certainly that's writer Jason Aaron's intent. It's another imperfect separation, contrary to the Hulk's own wishes. After all, Doom claimed that if he were to totally separate everything Banner from the Hulk, the monster would "be a bit more eloquent than 'Hulk smash,' but still, in essence [...] be the strongest 7th grader in the world." Since he seems to have more intelligence than that, Doom didn't do what was asked of him. The Hulk knows this too, for it was his own memories we saw in the flashback that detailed the separation this issue.

Go figure. Doom lied.

What doesn't bother me so much is that the Hulk willed Banner down into darkness to do the deed. It's not like he hasn't done similar things before. He did repress Banner's memories of injuring Betty because he held her while he changed (Incredible Hulk #334). And since Greg Pak returned the Hulk from Sakaar, nobody's precisely been sure what causes the metamorphoses anymore, so we could guess that each can do what they need to.

What does bother me is that Doom would have to be some umpteenth-order genius to recognize, on sight, the pieces of the brain that make up Banner and those that make up the Hulk. What bothers me is the implication that there was no overlap whatsoever between those pieces. (Then again, maybe Doom used part of the brain from the Banner he cloned, grafting on the other pieces he scooped from the Hulk. And that leads us through a discussion of just how the Hulk's brain differs from Banner's after the metamorphosis. Shall we skip that part?)

And what really chaps my hide is the apparent idea that the Hulk's incredible healing factor couldn't just regenerate the missing pieces of brain tissue, in which case sooner or later ol' Hulky will end up right where he began.  In fact, it's amazing that Doom was able to complete the surgical procedure at all, knowing what we do about the Hulk's very unique physiology.

Oh, did I just give away the ending to Aaron's story? 'Scuse me. Here, have some more of this:

Did Banner really "[work] for years on a way to separate" himself from the Hulk before admitting defeat? Only if you consider "separate" to be a euphemism for "cure himself." Banner has long held that the Hulk is all of his most destructive urges given form, so why would he merely wish to cleave that part of himself away? That part's wrong, too.

So what did Doom leave as part of Banner? A driving megalomania to reproduce that which has been denied him, resulting in an island of Hulkish things. Whether this is "really" Banner without the Hulk--if Banner has become unable to deal with emotions he heretofore sublimated into the monster, or if the trauma of the separation--that's all irrelevant. Obviously Aaron gave us Doom as the deus ex machina, the miraculous method through which the "real" Bruce Banner may be absolved of all his "sins" that this clone has carried out. And that includes...

I don't much agree with Aaron's ideas, ranging from yet another imperfect separation of man from monster using a clone whose existence I prophesied, to the Outcasts version 2.0, to using another set of heroes' arch-villain to facilitate the process. I can see the whole "Hulk accomplishes things with his fists; Banner does things with his mind" shtick on horrid display with this issue's confrontation between Banner and the M.A.D. Squad, as hackneyed a "secret organization" as ever existed. (Dig all of the blatant exposition masquerading as Banner's dialogue, kids!) I can also see that, well, we're being set up for the big conclusion of "Hulk Vs. Banner" and its inevitable aftermath.

Banner dies.

Of course, we'll be made to believe it's a permanent thing. The Hulk will lament the loss of his other half, however briefly, and the fans who never liked Bruce Banner in the first place will rejoice that the character's finally got his much-deserved freedom, never again having to transform into that weak, pink-skinned shell of a human being they only had to tolerate until he became angry.

Then, the Hulk's brain will heal. And Banner will return. And he won't actually be the same Banner as who raged against the Hulk in these first several issues, so we won't hate him anymore. It was "the clone" who did it, after all. Not the "real" Banner. Rah, rah. And what will we have when it's through? Another "what if" adventure that Banner remembers nothing about.

And yeah, a "what if" story in which the Hulk got hit in the face with radioactive monkey crap.

'Nuff said?

~G.

DCnU: Obsessive Continuity Disorder (2)(How 'Crisis' Changed Everything)

(DCnU Continuity Series:  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5)

Continuing the fifth in a series of articles inspired by DC Comics' September relaunch, we return to a discussion of the perils of continuity on comics. Last time, I analyzed DC's accidental creation of their own multiverse, and Marvel's considered development of their own, as well as fans' creation of the umbrella term "omniverse." This time out, we emphasize one company's decision to scale back their own multiverse.

Before I go too deeply, I really have to say I owe both the extended break I've had since writing the first section of this series--and the additional insights I believe I've gleaned--to a few books any self-respecting comic book fan owes it to him or herself to pick up. Do yourself a favor and track down Grant Morrison's Supergods: What Masked Vigilantes, Miraculous Mutants, and a Sun God From Krypton Can Teach Us About Being Human (Spiegel & Grau, $28USD) for an excellent overview of the history, in-world and out, of the comics medium courtesy of one of its very finest writers. The other books are out-of-print, and were never really all that well-circulated to begin with. Mark Gruenwald's Omniverse fanzine, in only two volumes released in 1977 and 1979, is known more by reputation than by anyone in current comics culture having actually read them. Read them I have, and impart to you their lessons I must, and good God, beginning to speak just like Yoda I am, rrrr! Somebody stop me!

While I'm at it, if anybody out there has the text of Gruenwald's 1976 opus A Treatise on Reality in Comic Literature, or the follow-up co-written by Myron Gruenwald A Primer on Reality in Comic Books, hit me up with a message to delusionalhonesty [at] gmail [dot] com, willya? The former--not Omniverse as alluded in my last post--was where the "omniverse" term was first coined. Muchas gracias!

Now then: Omniverse expanded on trends established by Marvel during the 1960s when they created their "shared universe" brought together by close continuity between their titles. Little things happened at first, like Spider-Man wanting to join the Fantastic Four, or the FF being recruited by General Ross to take down the Hulk. The introduction of Rama-Tut, followed by Kang, followed in turn by Immortus and even the Scarlet Centurion established a complex, unifying continuity whereby all ended up being variant versions of the same being! The folks at Marvel were experts at bringing disparate bits of continuity up as catalysts for interesting stories.

For the longest time, DC struggled to keep up with Marvel's "new" way of telling stories. In the sixties, not seeing Marvel as much of a threat, they stayed "continuity-light," with one story not mattering much in context of the next. The important things stayed the same: Superman was still from the planet Krypton (although not so much the "sole survivor"), and Batman's parents were murdered in Crime Alley, but it didn't matter that last month everyone in Metropolis was turned into Bizarros, or that Batman turned into a giant, King Kong-like creature and terrorized Gotham.

Eventually, DC seemed quaint in light of Marvel's bold approach to an ongoing continuity, and bit by bit they started coming around. Green Lantern & Green Arrow was a step in the right direction, and Denny O'Neil and Neal Adams' renovated Batman was another. Those successes still couldn't stop Marvel from becoming #1 above DC in the early seventies. Still, instead of slavishly echoing the kind of continuity that made Marvel successful, DC seemed to emphasize their multiple continuities, with books like Batman Family focusing on Batmen and Robins and Catwomen from across the multiverse, and Superman Family shedding light on Kryptonians. They birthed the first Huntress, they birthed Duela Dent, they carried on adventures of the elder "Mr. and Mrs. Superman."

Then, somebody over at DC evidently noticed Gruenwald & co.'s repeated postulations regarding alternate realities in Omniverse. In the first issue alone, the fans treated DC's icons in their multiple continuities more seriously than the company itself had ever dared do, concluding the existence of a third generation of Superman and Batman in between the two extant versions--a "World's Finest" duo (the appellation coming from their sharing one of DC's longest-running series) who had "super-sons" who were teens in the seventies, who didn't fit with either generation already out there. Somewhere out there, somebody got worried that DC's multiple continuities were growing too complex.

Meanwhile, Gruenwald took up a staff position down the street at Marvel, where he edited some books and wrote others--some of which even starred those analogues of DC's own Justice League, the Squadron Supreme. One of his earliest successes at conveying his unique ideology in the Marvel system is Marvel Two-In-One #50, a tale written and drawn by John Byrne wherein the Thing cures his past self, and in so doing creates a divergent timeline instead of curing himself in the present. In general, Gruenwald posited that major events led to crossroads in reality, where new realities were created that explored each path of divergence. Time travel could cause divergence, such as in the MTIO example, but also there were divergences the like of which were seen in What If...? regularly.

While Marvel kept rolling forward with Gruenwald's revolutionary theories, down the street at DC writer Marv Wolfman was plotting to implode it all. And when Gruenwald's brainchild, The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe, debuted in 1982, DC followed in late 1984 with Who's Who in the DC Universe. Meanwhile, Wolfman and artist George Perez, who'd renovated DC's teen characters in The New Teen Titans in 1980, started work on a series that would, for better or worse, bring continuity to the forefront and pave the way for everything else that's been published since. In 1985, the year of DC's fiftieth anniversary, the twelve-issue Crisis on Infinite Earths was published. And nothing in comics would be the same again.

Wolfman's Crisis one-upped Marvel's newly-created "everybody versus the big bad" event series (1984's Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars) by applying several bits of DC continuity in the mix, including Krona's inadvertent creation of the DC Multiverse in Green Lantern #40 and all the various storylines with a "Crisis" moniker over the previous two decades, including "Crisis on Earth-Two," "Crisis on Earth-Three," et al. The company took the series as an initiative to renovate what management saw as a convoluted continuity, and set about showing what a convoluted continuity it was by giving art duties to the most detail-oriented artist in the business, who loved jamming in tens of characters in every panel, and concocting a storyline that featured--no kidding--virtually every major and minor character to ever have been featured in any DC Comic ever published. It was like Wolfman and Perez were screaming, "See? See how complicated it all is? See how many characters we're jamming into every issue? We have to clean all this shit up, right? See! Are we right or are we right?"

Of course, I don't really think DC proved anything of the sort regarding the Multiverse. Even Grant Morrison in Supergods stated Crisis "began...as an elegiac continuity audit made to purge all story meat that was seen as too strong for the tender palates of an imagined new generation who would need believable and grounded hero books. There were complaints that the parallel-worlds system was too unwieldy and hard to understand, when in fact it was systematic, logical, and incredibly easy to navigate, particularly for young minds that were made for this kind of careful categorization of facts and figures." DC refuted the very concept of the multiverse as Gruenwald had defined it, with the end result of Crisis that virtually all of the "infinite Earths" (someone do the math, quick!) were destroyed, and bits and pieces of the five Earths that remained congealed into one Earth and one Earth only. This one Earth represented the entire post-Crisis DC Universe continuity in all its plain, vanilla glory.

And then, with a few notable exceptions, DC's spate of regular series went on and on. Oh, sure, a few titles were canceled, but mostly it was business as usual. Originally I've heard the intent was to relaunch every DC title with a new #1, similar to what they're doing next month after the finale of Flashpoint, but they couldn't make it work logistically. Instead, Superman and Wonder Woman enjoyed relaunches under superstar talents John Byrne and George Perez, respectively. Wally West took on the role of the Flash in the wake of his predecessor Barry Allen's demise. Batman's origin was renovated by Frank Miller a bit later, and Justice League of America was relaunched with a new team (as if there'd never been a league in the first place).

Without a solid coordinated effort, several continuity gaffes arose in a short amount of time, particularly surrounding characters like Hawkman and the Legion of Super-Heroes. Superman made critical "post-Crisis" appearances before Byrne's Man of Steel relaunched the character--and the series was to have been the formal introduction of the character in the new continuity. In addition, the Legion of Super-Heroes created a big problem just by existing, as they'd palled with Superboy back in the day. Problem was, Clark Kent never became Superboy in post-Crisis history! Oops. (So then, DC created a "pocket universe" to solve the issue--tantamount to invalidating their own "one universe only" rule. Double oops.)

Even more interestingly, a company that was so adamant about telling stories only set in one universe soon published a few stories clearly set outside that universe--and all the better for it. Yes, friends, I'm talking about Frank Miller's Dark Knight Returns and Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons' Watchmen.

Make of that what you will.

In spite of apparently doing away with the Multiverse, the plain fact behind Crisis on Infinite Earths was that Marvel's cultivated attitude toward continuity finally pervaded DC. Everything had to be connected, simplified and pre-categorized in guides like Who's Who to appease fans also immersed in role playing game lore (e.g. Dungeons & Dragons, hitting its stride in the early eighties). Such categorization only reinforced the skew of comics demographics toward older fans as result of the proliferation of comics specialty shops from the late seventies and throughout the eighties.

From here on, continuity was never not the focus. And, of course, anything DC did, Marvel had to do better.

Next: Continuity³ (All You Need Is Pr0n)

(DCnU Continuity Series:  Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5) 

~G.

Behold a Pale Horse, and Its Rider's Name Was DC(On September's Reboot & Digital Distribution)

It's official, ladies and germs!

For years, DC Comics has been a pillar of stability in the comics community. In the late 1990s, when Marvel Comics was relaunching nearly every title in their line, "Heroes Reborn" this and "Heroes Return" that, when the books with the highest numbering restarted for the sake of new and "hot" creative teams and gimmicks, DC stood firm. Yes, they did have that "Zero Month" shtick in 1994 where all of their books released "Zero" issues meant as jumping-on points, and there was that month in 1998 where every series was numbered 1,000,000 for another line-wide event. Still, DC didn't forsake their history for a fleeting bump in sales figures. Action Comics and Detective Comics hit their 700th and 800th issue milestones. The retitled Adventures of Superman (so done in the wake of John Byrne's 1986 relaunch) even became regular old Superman again after the Infinite Crisis crossover, keeping its numbering in the mid-600s. While it's true that DC did "relaunch" some series started in the eighties or nineties, they kept their "sacred cows" starring their biggest draws intact.

Until now.

Last year, DC seemed poised to give back to fans like Marvel had started to do, taking Wonder Woman and adding the numbering schemes of all the series' various incarnations together to debut a 600th issue. Then--oddly--they began a "new era" of the Wonder Woman character, complete with a new costume and new history, keeping the series numbering with #601-forward. To stave off dire price increases to Marvel and IDW's near-poisonous price point of $3.99 USD, they deployed a radical initiative in January that promised they were "Holding the Line at $2.99," keeping the cost of individual issues low while sacrificing two story pages per issue, replacing them with editorial content. All the while, the specter of digital piracy loomed, with companies flirting with same-day digital sales on select titles. Recently, sales figures suggested that the "Holding the Line" initiative wasn't working. Okay, so what could work to bring DC Comics more in line with, and even surpass, Marvel Comics, its distant first-place competition in the market?

Yesterday, in an article by Brian Truitt of USA Today, DC Comics Chief Creative Officer Geoff Johns and Co-Publishers Dan DiDio and Jim Lee signaled the next major creative shift in the company with both the advent of same-day digital releases and the complete relaunching of the DC Universe in September with the arrival of 52 new first issues. Those 52 new "number ones" will reintroduce core DC characters and concepts and feature art designs by Lee, and the initiative will lead off with Johns and Lee teaming on a new incarnation of the Justice League shipping August 31.

Hence, DC Comics has put themselves squarely at the finish line of a debate they'd been having with Marvel these last two-plus decades. They have effectively one-upped Marvel in the attitude that the only numbers that matter are circulation figures, not the history that comes with 900-plus consecutive issues of a given series. At the same time, they've given a giant, Green Lantern-on-steroids middle finger to already tenuously-positioned retailers across the country with this sweeping strategy designed ostensibly to bring new fans to the realm of comics.

Don't believe me? The case is pretty damning.

Marvel has been, let's face it, horrible to fans both new and old who try to follow their stories. As I've been through in a previous post, they've become renumbering opportunists, adding up the previous volumes of given series to arrive at some magical anniversary number so they can enjoy a momentary sales bump, then turning around and relaunching said title due to a film release or other advantageous situation. In some cases (Black Panther: Man Without Fear, Journey Into Mystery, the upcoming Captain America & Bucky) the books have both relaunched and had their "original" numbering overtaken by another title to split revenue streams and further glut a market already suffering in the wake of piracy issues and the ongoing attempt to compete with other, more popular forms of entertainment (video games, et al). They like to have it both ways, renumbering when it's convenient, as a sales gimmick, as something to promote a new movie, or a new creative team. They've taken what they learned with "Heroes Reborn" (the first, and until now the most egregious use of renumbering at a major comics company) and turned it into an art.

DC Comics has just beaten Marvel at their own game. Now, I understand that this development won't be a total reboot. It will involve some twisting of their cohesive "universe" through the current "event" series Flashpoint, warping various facets of their characters into new "reader-friendly" versions. Although many, many series will conclude long-range storylines with their August issues, the plots of those pre-"Number One Initiative" issues won't be altogether forgotten, if the words of various DC writers on Twitter, such as Detective Comics scribe Scott Snyder, are to be taken as truth. It won't be a wholesale reboot, the like of which Marv Wolfman had suggested follow his landmark Crisis on Infinite Earths maxiseries (that resulted only in the rebooting of Superman and Wonder Woman in the sense he wished, and quasi-rebooting of The Flash and, after a fashion, Green Lantern).

But with the complete renumbering of each DC Comics title from #1, the company removes the explicit sense of history that comes with a title that has had one continuous numbering scheme that reaches back decades. It used to be that high numbering was a sign of establishment, of a series whose pedigree was impeccable. A title in the 1960s numbered in the single digits or in the teens was an upstart, not to be trusted, but one numbering in the hundreds had weathered the storm, experienced highs and lows and emerged unscathed, and perhaps even richer for the experience. As I'm going to get into in a subsequent article, that attitude shifted with both the advent of the comics direct market and the concept of the limited series. Again it shifted with the "event" series, the proliferation of the crossover, and the overcommercialization of product in the 1990s from which the market still hasn't recovered. The flood of new #1 issues that began in the 1980s and escalated through the 1990s hasn't stopped, and this move by DC may prove the most disastrous of them all.

"From the company that brought you 'The Death of Superman' comes the event to finish off brick-and-mortar comics shops like Adventures of Superman #500 nearly did in 1993..."

You might look at the argument presented thus far and think, "So what?" So what if DC Comics is relegating the history of their characters to the Recycle Bin? A new number one's a fresh start. But what about 52 new starts all coming at you at once? That's intimidating enough for a fan or someone who's just coming into the hobby! 52 new books means that, on average, thirteen new first issues will hit the stands each week in September. But no, you haven't tumbled to the real imminent threat out there. The one that decides if your local comic shop will be a viable place to purchase your favorite series.

Your local comic shop has a difficult enough time gauging the interest of the dozen-or-so new #1 issues that each of the big companies offers in their solicitations every month. Now, DC Comics will offer, in just a few short weeks, a catalogue devoted almost entirely to first issues! How will they react? It's a fair point to express that many retailers over-ordered books in the 1990s, like X-Men #1, X-Force #1, Spider-Man #1, and even Adventures of Superman #500--that white-polybagged "Return of Superman" issue of which I spoke. If retailers underestimate demand, then they are left with a host of unsatisfied customers to whom they couldn't supply the issue(s) desired, who might shop elsewhere or else totally miss out on an issue and hence an entire series (or two, or three, etc.).  If they overestimate demand and order too many copies, then they're left with inventory they can't sell, and they lose money. If that amounts to only a couple of books each month, then really that's not too bad and the store can recoup their losses elsewhere. They can also adjust their orders on upcoming books with their distributor, generally up to three weeks before the next issue ships.

Remember that a lot of comic shops went belly-up in the 1990s due to a number of things, but one of the big contributors was over-ordering during the speculator boom. Retailers were left with too much product they couldn't sell--the end. Most of the time, that was a series of decisions made over a long period of time. What would happen if, over a month's time, a comic shop spent an exorbitant amount of money, ordering a large number of books they suspected they might sell as result of the huge media push related to the new initiative--only to find that the demand wasn't there?

Catastrophe!

Especially if no series currently exists for the new #1s that stand to be introduced in September, retailers wouldn't be able to accurately predict the number of copies they need. Again, you might ask, well, so what? As I mentioned before, DC's done the line-wide issue renumbering on two separate occasions (#0 and #1,000,000). And one of those events in particular was designed similarly to this one, as a jump-on point for new readers. But both those events took place in a stronger sales climate. The first was at the middle of the 1990s speculator boom. The second, well, it had its share of issues that functioned as series finales (Young Heroes In Love, Chase, others) but was largely in service to the DC One Million event. This time? Retailers are in a tough situation from all sides, with even fiercer competition from video games and other forms of entertainment. Circulation figures have fallen and prices have risen precipitously.

And then, also as mentioned, DC and other companies are feeling the squeeze from digital piracy, with the majority of their lines available online for free even before the regular date of release. (It even happened with Blackest Night #6, a book that was shipped early to retailers but wasn't to be made available for a week. Oops.) As result, companies have beefed up their online presence on sites such as Comixology and iTunes. They've made available apps for the iPad and smartphones like the iPhone and Android OS. Both Marvel and DC previously flirted with same-day digital releases, on Invincible Iron Man Annual #1 and Batman Beyond as well as some others.

Although regular book sales don't (quite) have the same problem with piracy as comics, booksellers such as Amazon have already made giant strides with the digital format, providing content for the Kindle and other similar products. Two weeks ago, Amazon made headlines by announcing for the first time ever, e-books are now outselling print books on their site. This trend is only expected to continue over coming months and years. Hence, companies that embrace digital distribution models are viewed as embracing the future. And DC Comics' decision to wholly do so marks them, and not Marvel, as trailblazers. However, this new trend--together with DC's massive print distribution blunder of flooding the market with #1s--also may mean the end of traditional distribution channels.

It's the perfect storm. Brick-and-mortar comic shops are limited by what they can order and what they think they can sell, while digital distributors have as many copies as potential readers desire and there's no such thing as lost inventory. And given that the conversion to digital distribution in the book market is happening much faster than the experts predicted, it makes sense that it will be the distribution path for comics. It's true that Diamond, distributor to all comic shops, is endeavoring to offer digital distribution in shops to compete with digital-only venues (i.e. websites). I'm not quite sure how such a business model can be effective, especially in such desperate economic times.

Marvel Comics is lagging behind in today's comics market in all ways but market share. Their comics are nearly the most expensive out there, and yet they flood the market with so many titles they are still not only able to compete, but win. And still, they have chosen to copy the activities of the runner-up, having also recently reduced their $2.99 titles to twenty pages of story without making a formal announcement. No doubt, the question now becomes not whether they will adopt DC Comics' policy of same-day digital distribution, but how soon? When they do, it's only a matter of time before the print version of all comics becomes a novelty item, beyond even the specialty items they have now become.

As the book market in general constricts, as booksellers like Borders fail (and even Barnes & Noble gets a takeover bid), how can the smaller comics retailers compete? Will Diamond Digital be able to stem the tide? How will the graphic novel market be impacted by these sweeping changes? Something tells me, even a year from now, we'll be looking at a very, very different comics market than we have today.

Don't misunderstand me. It seems vital now that comics' distribution channels change to save the industry as regular books' distribution channels also change. But just think about what such changes will mean for the larger industry--comics retailers, printers, mail carriers, all the way down the line. Will saving the comics industry mean doom for everything else surrounding it?

I'd love to know your thoughts. Am I acting too much like Chicken Little, or am I on-point, or am I not thinking drastic enough?

~G.