Cheryl Lynn Eaton

05•21•17

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.

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.

05•18•17

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.

All right.

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.

04•03•17

Young Animal: Way in.

It’s time for Young Animal to expand.

I’m sure Gerard Way, already consumed by deadlines, would cringe upon reading that sentence. But it is the truth. The line is poised to best its predecessor, Vertigo, with novel takes on oft-neglected titles. It is perhaps the setup Marvel has with Ta-Nehisi Coates on an even grander scale. As with Coates, Way lends his celebrity to the brand, beefing up the marketing on a select subset of titles with his name alone. There is also the added benefit of a company using a celebrity not only as a talented creator, but as a human Rolodex. Both DC and Marvel have the ability to use Way’s and Coates’ connections to reach out to creative circles to which they would not otherwise have access. And they do so. Eagerly.

Moreover, by placing creators on already existing brands in need of renovation, publishers skirt issues that arise with creator-owned properties such as licensing and credits. In some instances, as creators come up with concepts whole cloth that are tied only tangentially to an existing property, this feels rightfully like exploitation. If all that remains that is recognizable about an original character is the name? I would advise any popular creator to take his ideas to Image. However, if a creator is happy to work within an established framework? Young Animal is the perfect place to provide the stability one needs with the ability to explore themes and subjects that one could not explore with a beloved and tightly controlled brand such as Superman.

Why not Vertigo? Because Vertigo is considered old and Anglophilic, whereas Young Animal is considered…young and Anglophilic. Vertigo is iconic; Young Animal is now the brash upstart. And an expansion will help cement that idea in the public’s collective consciousness (1) before younger Vertigo doppelgängers can launch lines and (2) now that Image is best known as the premier place for established creators to publish creator-owned works. That’s where I would start as a mercenary marketer for Young Animal—doing my level best to portray Image as a playground for the old and famous, and any other upstart that leaned hard on Vertigo’s past glory (and let’s be honest, almost all of these imprints do, including Young Animal) as a poor facsimile.

And yet this is comics, not Highlander. There is room for everyone, but you must either be (1) unique or (2) the most talented to get the largest share. Since most creators aren’t exclusive, having the best crew is nearly impossible. The talent pool in comics is amazing, but every comic company dips a toe into it. An imprint must make its mark via individuality and authenticity. What does your imprint bring to the table that is truly distinctive? How is your “voice” different?

I was about to say that Young Animal is in the best position to usurp Vertigo’s role as the industry’s lightning rod, but I must correct myself. Vertigo lost that role to Image long before the creation of Young Animal. Sadly, Vertigo seems to have no interest in heeding my previous advice to become an exclusive playground for established creators with cult followings. And so Image will likely take that prestigious role and the evergreen backlist that comes with it as it abandons its former position as a rabble-rouser—resulting in two organizations benefitting from Vertigo’s decline.

02•11•17

Wildstorm designs.

As I have said before I am excited about the relaunch of the Wildstorm universe, though I do have some concerns. Those concerns do not reside with Warren Ellis, whose breakdowns of the key players and organizations of the Wildstorm universe have only intrigued me. No, rather it is Ellis’ views regarding the art direction for the upcoming The Wild Storm and other untitled tie-in works he plans to launch that have raised warning flares.

I often compare Wildstorm to Milestone. I have an extremely high opinion of the two imprints and I believe the diversity contained within both had a huge impact on the quality and type of work released. Wildstorm and Milestone were clearly multicultural in nature. They made comics about everyone for everyone. However, the story direction at Milestone was led by African American men. The art direction at Wildstorm was led by Asian American men. And it—no pun intended—colored the work. If one is to relaunch Milestone (as Lion Forge has done in spirit with Catalyst Prime) or Wildstorm effectively, I believe this must be duplicated. The heart of both imprints reside with men of color. It is that simple.

Lion Forge has risen to the challenge. Though its selection of writers for Catalyst Prime is diverse, Christopher Priest and Joseph Illidge, both black men present during either the creation of Milestone or its flourishing, are at the helm. Lion Forge is poised to replicate what made Milestone unique in the marketplace—a multicultural band of talented creators building a world envisioned by black men.

Given the dominating presence of skilled writers such as Warren Ellis, Alan Moore, James Robinson, and Mark Millar, it is clear that Wildstorm’s story direction was overwhelmingly Anglophilic in nature even though the imprint’s roots reside with writer Brandon Choi. This is certainly not a negative, but a positive—the works produced were wonderful—and this setup has been reproduced with Warren Ellis’ return. What has not yet been duplicated, and something I think should be duplicated if this imprint is to successfully recapture the “heart” of Wildstorm, is to have Asian American men at the helm in regards to art direction.

Now just as Milestone hired writers of myriad backgrounds, so should Wildstorm have a diverse selection of artists. After all, men like J. Scott Campbell, Matt Broome, and Lee Bermejo all thrived there. But they did so under the watchful eye of Jim Lee. Wildstorm’s artists had multiple influences, of course, but one can clearly see that Asian and Asian American artists were not only among them, but in the early days those influences perhaps dominated.

“When Jim launched WildStorm, the look was best-in-class for commercial superhero comics—computer-assisted colour, pinsharp printing, great paper. We can’t replicate that, and, frankly, I can’t think of a technological way to top it. So let’s try something else. Stripped-down, stark and authentic.”
Warren Ellis

Looking at the preview art released it appears as though Jon Davis-Hunt wears the UK on his sleeve. His work is lovely, and in the panel layouts and body language depicted one can see strains of Dave Gibbons and Steve Dillon. But an Anglophilic writer paired with an Anglophilic artist leaves one with an imprint highly reminiscent of Vertigo, not Wildstorm. And to follow in the footsteps of Vertigo does a clear disservice to what Wildstorm was and could be again—a marriage of the UK and Asia nestled in a multicultural American setting.

I will paraphrase what I’ve said elsewhere in conversations with friends in regards to the stripped-down, desaturated, and spot-color approach to art and design in the new Wildstorm universe: I am not a fan though I understand its presence. It is my hope that the art and color in The Wild Storm apes multiple styles as a nod to the design wars taking place within the story—Academi (formerly Blackwater) versus Apple versus rogue street tech. I want to see heavy black mecha, sleek white tools, and the inventions of children of color who are working with the vibrant branded refuse discarded by our society.

“By the end of it I’d want an explosion of color as the universe drills down to the street. Renzi on Loose Ends. Or Bellaire brightness.”
Cheryl Lynn Eaton

I think that vivid kinetic faction is where Asian and American artistic influences should make their presence felt. And if or when they do, Wildstorm will have truly become Wildstorm.

02•06•17

“Keep your politics out of my comics!”

Comic books have always been political. Comic books have always made a cultural statement. Much like a fish is not aware of the water surrounding it until the creature has been removed from a lake or an ocean, readers are often not aware of the political statements and cultural agendas promoted in the work they consume until those agendas no longer adhere to the ones they hold dear. A slow-witted Mammy in a Tom & Jerry cartoon was deemed benign by non-black audiences prior to a shift in American attitudes about African Americans. Captain America punching Hitler was deemed acceptable for generations until a resurgence of white nationalists grew increasingly distressed that such depictions were encouraging people to (rightfully) respond to their bigoted desires for genocide and the revocation of civil rights with violence.

While I believe that work that champions the hatred and denigration of a group for whom they inherently are has no place in the art we consume, to remove politics (or in layman’s terms, to remove propaganda or a cultural agenda) from one’s work is wholly impossible. Even something as innocuous as a 1980s sitcom such as Growing Pains championed the traditional nuclear American family. And so long as there is room for other families to be depicted, what is wrong with that?

Absolutely nothing.

I find that there are two distinct groups clamoring for an imaginary era when comics were not political. The first group is comprised of reactionary individuals deeply angered by the presence of subcultures that are not their own in the work they consume. They are your typical racists, homophobes, anti-Semites, misogynists, etc. However, there is another group that I believe does not wish to whitewash or censor an industry, but is having difficulty expressing what it really wants, which is a curtailing of ham-fisted depictions of current events or thinly veiled lectures disguised as story arcs.

Sadly, I believe the second group is much smaller than the first. However, it exists and its grievance is a valid one. I’ve enjoyed the work of creators possessing cultural viewpoints and political agendas that differ wildly from my own—and it certainly wasn’t because men like Frank Miller are somehow adept at not letting their agendas and viewpoints bleed through their work. In fact they are absolutely terrible at it! But as long as one is not terrible at crafting a good story, one can enjoy work like Sin City: Hell and Back as much as one enjoys Bitch Planet or Empowered.

And I do.

02•01•17

A Haute Mess: Style and substance.

When the world is falling apart you might as well look your best. After all, you never know when a television crew will want a “man on the street” opinion about our ensuing apocalypse. You never know if the love of your life will be waiting around the corner, or at a protest, or tying up the line at Target. So be ready. And if you aren’t ready? Fake it until you make it. To reiterate, always look your best. And please note the emphasis on the word your.

Who am I? Trends come and go, but style is personal. And it is personal because it is tied into your personality. If you feel that you are in a fashion rut the first order of business is to grab a pen, a sheet of paper, and few friends and family members. Why? Because you’re going to need some information on your favorite subject. You.

Ask those closest to you how they would describe you. Make sure to set aside comments about your appearance. Instead zero in on what is said about your temperament and body language. The answers here are key. Are you considered brusque and demanding? Shy and prim? Bawdy and sensual? Consider if the adjectives listed by your loved ones match those you’d give to yourself.

What image am I projecting to the world? Remember all those comments about your appearance that I told you to set aside? Go and get them. You’ll need to mull over those observations in order to gauge whether the way you look is in conflict with the way you act. And should that be the case, it likely explains the style rut that you are in or the inability to feel comfortable in your own skin.

However, please remember that we don’t have full control over the images we project. Issues regarding race, weight, gender, and wealth do have an impact on how the world sees us. That is why it is so important to receive feedback from loved ones rather than fashion magazines or style gurus. You must hear from those who know you and can accurately ascertain the story you are telling with your clothes rather than listen to a stranger who would use bigotry to evaluate your story via your weight or the color of your skin or the shape of your body.

What image do I want to project to the world? This is the fun part. My darlings, it is time for you to create a mood board. Now you can hit up the fashion magazines and style gurus. Open up Pinterest (or Tumblr, or a scrapbook) and start saving images of styles you’d love to take as your own. We are purely in the realm of fantasy here so don’t limit yourself. Yes, go on and throw a photo of Beyoncé in there. And while you’re pulling images together give yourself a style statement as well. What is the look you’re going for? I told a friend that my fashion goal for 2017 was Afro-futuristic Clair Huxtable. Find your own style statement and make sure the images you select reflect it.

Is the image I wish to project who I am? It’s time for a reality check after all that fantasizing. If everyone you know has described you as shy and retiring and your mood board is chock full of half-naked photos of Instagram baddies you’re going to have a problem. That’s not who you are. Make a note that you’d like to emphasize your sensuality and go back to the drawing board with the comments of your loved ones in mind. Start pruning. Eliminate looks you’d never feel comfortable wearing. Add those that bridge the gap between the person you are and who you’d like to be.

Yes, that’s a lot of homework I’ve just given you all! But the end result, mastering that “glo up challenge,” is worth all that hard work in the end.

11•14•16

Fragility of the ghost in the shell.

Ghost in the Shell is an irritating instance of racism.

To use the term racism seems harsh, but to use the other term that has been bandied about—whitewashing—doesn’t seem correct. I don’t believe that taking a notable work and changing the setting or race of the characters is an issue if you are using said change to make a point about a specific culture or spotlight a particular aspect of said culture. That applies to white people as well as people of color.

The Handmaiden, a Korean drama which pulls its plot from the novel Fingersmith, does not use Korean actors for a Victorian tale. It does not put an Asian face upon a European cultural product. Instead it reassembles a new work upon a neutral frame and uses it to tell a fascinating story about Korea during colonial rule as well as explore Korean-Japanese relations in the past to shed light on relations today. It is a commendable work of art.

As is The Wiz, which borrows from The Wizard of Oz to showcase African-American culture in an amazingly beautiful way. I would also add the tale of Cinderella, which takes the basis of the Chinese Ye Xian and places it in a European setting. And one cannot forget one of the most modern successful examples in the show Friends, a white American version of the African American Living Single.

But the upcoming Ghost in the Shell is not like the projects listed above. It is an embarrassment, for its attention to detail simply results in Asian cultures being used as a backdrop for a white ingénue. It sends a sinister message—that the cultures of people of color are acceptable, but the autonomous presence of people of color is not. It sends the message that white Americans can reproduce foreign cultures more skillfully than said foreigners because they are inherently better than them.

The movie’s one potential saving grace is that it might handle race and culture in the same manner as Blade Runner, in which predominately white characters maneuver through a Los Angeles that is overwhelmingly culturally Asian and Latino. Blade Runner told a story about race, about whiteness—perhaps inadvertently—through its near lack of characters of color. It touched upon the paranoia of poor and working-class white people through their placement in a fantasy world where they are subjected to the inhumane treatment and alienation that immigrants and abductees of color once faced (and currently face) in the United States.

However, I think the two movies that Ghost in the Shell could have been would have been infinitely more effective and important to our society than the movie that has been produced. A Ghost in the Shell featuring Asian characters in a culturally Asian city would have allowed for Asian American actors to have the opportunity to showcase their talents in an industry that often ignores them. It would have given Asian Americans a chance to explore what it means to represent oneself as Asian and American in a world increasingly impacted by technology, augmentation, and globalization—and share that with American people.

The other movie that has been lost is a purely American adaptation featuring an American cast in a culturally American city—a futuristic one with elements of dozens of subcultures. This movie still could have featured Scarlett Johansson in the lead role and allowed for a fascinating exploration of what it means to be white in a world where one’s image is wholly changeable. What does it mean to be white in a world shaking off the last vestiges of white supremacy? So many American movies center white people and whiteness without any examination of it—a lost opportunity to create powerful life-changing art. A project that centers whiteness sans examination is a celebration of it. To have all projects center whiteness sans examination is dangerous propaganda.

However, there is still a chance for those two lost movies! And though they would not be able to assume the benefits of an internationally known brand, they would still have an opportunity to be successful. Who knows? Perhaps one of those movies is already here.

11•10•16

Donald Trump’s escape hatch.

Donald Trump does not want to be president, for Donald Trump does not want a job that is difficult and extraordinarily tedious. What Donald Trump wants is to humble Barack Obama, the Bush family, the Clintons, and every individual he believes has wronged him. Donald Trump also wants money, attention, and respect—as do many people, to be fair.

He can get all of those things by relinquishing the presidency—and would not have to work for any of it. He can only get money by being president. And he will have to toil and suffer for every penny of it. His life would become a nightmare of protests, public humiliations, heckling, and constant media scrutiny. No more extramarital affairs, no more extended vacations and complete freedom of movement. For once in his life, Donald Trump would have to answer to someone—the American people. And for all the galas and television cameras, for all the pomp and circumstance, the truth is that being president is an excruciating job physically, mentally, and emotionally—much of it done quietly, sans fanfare, while sitting in an office. The greatest presidents have been those with a drive to serve and make America better. The worst have done it for prestige, money, or the obligation of nepotism. And America has suffered greatly for the latter.

A petition has been created begging the assigned Electors of the Electoral College to buck the trends of their particular states and vote for the candidate who won the popular vote. A lovely idea, but it is one that will never come to fruition because rich white men would never place the health of the country over the continued strength of white supremacy and racism.

And the truth is that America overall is in danger. For Trump is considering a collection of the most corrupt and incompetent people to ever venture into politics to serve in his cabinet. A man who cared about America would assemble a team of capable conservatives with a host of successes found within their resumes. Christie, Jindal, Carson, Palin and others are colossal political failures held in disdain. They are unfit to serve and would cause untold damage.

Unless Donald Trump does not become president. And should he have the presidency stolen from him by rogue Electors, his life would improve considerably—all while maintaining his status as a “winner.” The focused disgust that over half of the country has expressed towards him would vanish in relief the moment Clinton became president. Clinton would likely be so grateful that Trump would be able to operate for the next four to eight years with a blanket pardon in his back pocket. He would attend any Clinton event he wished as an honored guest. Some would be held at his hotels. Not only would he be amongst respected celebrities and the political élite, but for once they would legitimately be delighted to see him. Because he was willing to play nice when it counted the most. I’d rather be seen as an incorrigible but talented entrepreneur seated next to Beyoncé than be a harried and despised president of a faltering country who could only get Scott Baio and Rudy Giuliani to come to my events. I suspect Trump would rather have fame and mainstream adoration instead of the hate and fear of a majority of the populace too. His entire career has been the selling of his name. His presidency would ensure a four-year boycott of Trump products by more than half of the populace—more importantly, by the élite.

A Clinton presidency would be the magic wand that erased Trump’s misdeeds, but what of the overwhelming number of racists—some of them violent—who voted for him? Well, they would be an absolute treasure trove for Trump and others to exploit. Trump TV would decimate FOX News. Clinton would grimace as Trump used his preferential treatment to savage her in the press, but she’d bear it. For she knows how to play the game too. Trump would make untold sums from his media investments. Cable news is far more lucrative when conservatives are the underdog. And he would barely have to lift a finger. Money without having to work for it? That’s of more interest to Trump than slogging through a president’s daily itinerary.

Clinton winning by an Electoral College upset would benefit Trump and Clinton (and benefit America overall), but it would be a bittersweet victory even though I want desperately for it to happen. For I know that as a black woman my safety would be in danger. Gun sales would skyrocket. And though there are a plethora of assaults occurring now, I am certain that Trump’s white supremacist supporters would resort to murder during a Clinton presidency. I could be murdered.

I could be murdered, but I would take that risk to salvage our educational system. I could be murdered, but I would take that risk to keep Muslims and Latinos from being deported. I could be murdered, but I would take that risk were Native sovereignty validated and the health of our environment preserved. I could be murdered, but I would take that risk to keep LGBT marriages and adoptions intact. I could be murdered, but I would take that risk so that young women could maintain reproductive freedom. I could be murdered, but I would take that risk so the lower and middle classes had safe working conditions and health insurance. I could be murdered, but I would risk it all again and again and again, first and foremost, to stop black disenfranchisement and death.

Yet we will have a Trump presidency on December 18, and the demise of American excellence soon after, because white Americans want to once again feel as though they are inherently better than people of color and be able to point to a racist white president to validate it. They have proven it with their votes and the Electors will prove it with theirs. For through all of the country’s economic ups and downs that is what made America great to them. They will give up their money. They will give up their health. They will give up their safety. They will give up their privacy. They will give up the lives of the marginalized. All so that they can sit smugly no matter their poverty, addictions, battered and broken bodies, stunted children, scarred uteri, ghost towns, poisoned water or crumbling roads, and delight in the fact that they are not a nigger.

11•08•16

Bully for you.

I’ve never been a fan of Westerns, but the many Americans who are will soon be able to enjoy the return of Red Dead Redemption to their consoles and computers. Rockstar Games sits upon a deep bench of intellectual property, and while I adore the Grand Theft Auto series, I believe two additional cult favorites should return—Bully and Manhunt.

Manhunt should be revived because America is in desperate need of a cathartic release. Much in the same way that the 1970s vigilante and Blaxploitation hero have made a resurgence, the time is right for a character that gives voice to those who believe they are voiceless. It is the perfect point in time to provide a powerful avatar to the disenfranchised (or merely disgruntled)—one that they may live vicariously through. Were I at the helm of such an undertaking, I would make certain that the lead character be mute and fully customizable. And as much as I clamor for female leads (especially for the Grand Theft Auto series), I would make the character male to best fit the initial setting of a privatized prison for men. The villains of note? Avaricious elite who use the marginalized for profit and corrupt officers who abuse them for sport.

While I would stress full customization, I would in no way ignore the impact that race, nationality, religion, and sexuality have on one’s life—especially in prison. These elements would affect gameplay, altering alliances, opportunities, and privileges. I would lean heavily on real-life data in design, and would hope that players would discuss said data as they shared tips and commented on unique walkthroughs. The goal would be to create a work that allows individuals to see themselves and have their grievances validated, but also see “the other” as human. In fact, reaching out to the other—by either playing as a different type of character or having a conversation with one who did—would allow one to enjoy different cut scenes and exclusive side stories. In real life we don’t have much of an incentive to step into the shoes of another. Our games—our stories—can provide that incentive.

Where Manhunt would pinpoint where we are devoid of power and provide an emotional salve for said lack, Bully would highlight the areas of our lives where our actions leave an impression. It would show how much speaking out and speaking up can change things for the better—both personally and for the community at large. Harassment is a topical issue. And I think the more we only encounter people who are different as static images and words on a screen, the easier it is to abuse them. It is ironic that a connection to virtual characters might allow children to be more empathic to peers in real life, but if our technology allows for that, should the option not be explored?

I wouldn’t back away from sensitive issues. If today’s teens are experiencing it, creative adults should be brave enough to confront it—and be able to do so with humor, honesty, and grace. To provide not only an amazing and entertaining game, but also a “life simulator” for the more socially disconnected to explore potential consequences would be highly beneficial—and lucrative.

It would also be controversial, but Rockstar Games has never been one to back down from controversy.

10•31•16

Spider-Woman: Frank Cho, Milo Manara, and marketing.

“Milo Manara, master artist and storyteller, came in at the last ten minutes of my Art and Women panel and handed me a special gift in appreciation for fighting censorship—an original watercolor painting of Spider-Woman. The packed auditorium went wild.”
Frank Cho

Illustrating cheesecake is not a fight against censorship. No one has censored Frank Cho—not DC, not Marvel, not even the American government. To state otherwise is a lie. It is a lie put forward to market to men who feel that their rights have been taken from them because the companies they adore have begun to market select products to focus groups that do not include them.

Frank Cho and Milo Manara are well within their rights to create cheesecake featuring Marvel and DC superheroines. Selling said images at conventions is a gray area, but I’d argue that Marvel and DC should look the other way in regards to the practice in order to maintain a friendly relationship with freelancers. Marvel and DC are also well within their rights to decide that employing controversial good-girl artists for books that will be heavily marketed to feminist readers seeking empowering stories is no longer profitable for them.

Crying censorship simply because you are unhappy with the consequences of your actions is dishonest. Carly Rae Jepsen isn’t being censored because she didn’t receive an invitation to perform at the Hip Hop Honors. She makes delightful pop music. As a result, her work isn’t considered for certain venues and is prioritized at others. Cho is a talented good-girl artist. He should be considered for jobs where pin-up art is required. However, his continued needling of feminist consumers may have rightfully made companies wary of taking him on as a freelancer much in the same way that Twitter has struggled to find buyers given its problems with harassment. We have reached an age where subpar social skills can override immense talent. It is much easier to hire a freelancer who is an asset both behind the desk and on a panel.

I have a collection filled with the work of Warren, Conner, Linsner, and Barbucci—all highly recommended—so I am certainly no stranger to cheesecake. However, the actions of Cho and Manara have consequences. Their work and behavior have made a Marvel character an embarrassment. Unlike Wonder Woman, a character with decades as a feminist icon under her belt, Spider-Woman is in no way a strong enough character to bounce back from this. No matter how many female creators attempt to salvage the mess these two men have created, this character is now best known as a mean-spirited industry in-joke made at the expense of women and girls seeking an aspirational heroine to believe in.

Perhaps the best bet for Marvel would be to simply acknowledge the joke Cho and Manara have made of Spider-Woman (at Marvel’s expense and their own profit) and sell the character accordingly. What other options does the company have left? Of course, Cho and Manara have proved absolutely incapable of launching the charm offensive needed to sell a sex-kitten anti-heroine that doesn’t belittle or infuriate feminist readers while simultaneously refraining from shaming straight male fans of pin-up art. And it can be done—with the right creative team.

It is absolutely fascinating how Frank Cho has fed off Marvel characters given that he is not a Marvel employee and has actively interfered with Marvel’s marketing strategy in regards to wooing female readers! And for all his cries of censorship he has surprisingly suffered absolutely no consequences for it. I wonder how many other freelancers plan to follow in his footsteps. How easy it would be for a famous artist to loudly claim that Marvel wishes to rid itself of all cheesecake (it doesn’t) and rake in the cash of frenzied collectors by pumping out pornographic images to buy at conventions. Then leave Marvel to put out the PR fires ignited by the images being spread all over social media.

Of course the real money is in helming a Harley Quinn—a character that draws dollars from feminists and misogynists alike, a character that allows one to draw cheesecake at conventions and draw checks from a mainstream comic company, a character that allows for a much wider range of material that is deemed appropriate by all. But the quick money is in outrage. As Frank Cho is only too aware.