Twintelle-ing on yourself.

It’s amusing to me to watch American video game journalism outfits dance around labeling Twintelle—the new fan-favorite character found in the upcoming Arms game from Nintendo—as black. After all, it seems as if Nintendo’s development and marketing teams took great care to ensure that American audiences would identify the character as such. The character comes equipped with a handful of well-known “soft” stereotypes regarding black American and Caribbean women. There’s the curvaceous build with an emphasis on the character’s ample ass and thighs. There’s the dark skin tone. There’s the unique name with a randomly attached French suffix or prefix. There’s the incredulous tea sipping pulled directly from slang and memes originated by black women and black gay men. And finally there’s the oversized jewelry—those are damn near doorknockers, folks—curly, colorful hair, and skin-tight attire taken straight from your average Instagram baddie or cookout-attending cousin. I’d be annoyed by the blatant pandering if the character wasn’t so recognizable—and adorable.

My God, is the character adorable! I’m so mad.

Twintelle from Arms

I’m sure for East Asian audiences Twintelle has a different name and is considered a young Japanese star enamored by and participating in a Ganguro renaissance (which apparently entails dressing like you escaped from a Bad Boy video circa 1997). And that is just fine, absolutely correct, and a clear example of Nintendo’s marketing savvy that the company can create such mutable characters that blend seamlessly into multiple subcultures and ethnicities.

I’m certainly not one to label every dark-skinned character appearing in an East Asian animation or video game as black. In fact, I’d argue that a sizable number are actually meant to be read as dark-skinned Asians or Pacific Islanders by Asian audiences and American audiences. But there are simply too many context clues regarding Twintelle to believe that Nintendo had zero designs on tapping into the brand loyalty and overwhelming support that black audiences provide when approached with positive representation. Black individuals are recognizing themselves in Twintelle because that is exactly what I believe Nintendo wanted to occur. His mama named him Clay, I’mma call him Clay.

What is sadly familiar is the backlash from those who profess to be “beyond” race but seem determined to squelch the joy of any black girl or woman who sees a link between a positive image in the media and her own blackness. The response is repetitive, intrusive, and shows that said individuals are not the impartial observers they claim to be, but are very much the product of centuries of successful anti-black propaganda. Were this not the case, identifying blackness in something that is considered good by the masses would not trouble them so. For them, blackness is to be emphasized and reserved for criminal suspects and objects of ridicule alone.

Ignore them. Celebrate. Embrace every pleasant surprise in the media you find. And brush up on those combos before June 16.


My 9ine.

“After page four, the whole thing goes into a 9-panel grid, and it’s to give you a sense of that claustrophobia. To give you a sense of what it is to be trapped, not only in the themes and the words, but in the actual panel structure. He’s trapped behind those bars we had in Omega Men, and how does he break out?”

Tom King

Okay.

Page 1 of The Wild Storm

All right.

Doomsday Clock Preview

Hrm.

Are…are Moore and Gibbons secretly on deck for the ultimate Crisis story? Is this foreshadowing? Or is this just a shared love-letter to the nine-panel grid? Looking at this I can’t help but lament the lack of Milestone in this DC revival of worlds. Its absence is notable and, by God, I would love to write a story set in that universe with an artist who is absolutely committed to ruining the nine-panel grid! I’d purposely have a black character on every single page of said story just jacking the layout up and knocking panels out-of-place. I’d gleefully be the fly in the buttermilk. The dark speck marring one’s pristine nostalgic vision.

For that is what we are, no? The group here to remind you that the good old days weren’t so good? That we haven’t lost a way we never had? That returning to the nine-panel grid isn’t an indication that the walls are closing in because we’ve been hemmed in. Y’all just got here. And still refuse to acknowledge our presence a majority of the time. To hell with a nine. It’s the sequential art version of clapping on the one and three.

It’s not that I hate the shared art direction above. I love-to-hate it. There’s a big difference. It’s like relishing the presence of a cherished villain. Like setting a glass of perfectly chilled water on a ledge. Near a cat.

(I’m the cat.)

I see a nine-panel grid and within those gutters I see perfect order and a wallowing in nostalgic longing for a creative era that would have resulted in my ostracization had I been present. And I think to myself, I would love to create complete chaos and discomfort here. I see pacifiers for middle-aged, middle-class men in those grids, not bars. They are in our present day as creatively restrictive as a gimp mask. A familiar binding one seeks out and derives pleasure from.

But I’d be lying if I said the repetition wasn’t intriguing. It is highly intriguing! Here we have the nine-panel grid in four out of the six major DC worlds—Detective, Wildstorm, Charlton/Watchmen, and Kirby’s Fourth World. Only Milestone and Quality are missing. This cannot be a coincidence. I believe Mitch Gerads, Jon Davis-Hunt, Gary Frank and more are collectively up to something. I want to know what it is.