wisb-Guardian-Express

Since Man of Steel hit theaters, there's been a lot of talk about a potential Justice League movie.  We even mentioned this topic in the latest Shoot the WISB episode on the new Superman film.  Much of the discussion is based on rumors, no doubt supported by this oddly blank IMDB page, which suggests that some sort of Justice League film will hit a screen of some description in 2015.  Now, Henry Cavill, who plays Supes in Man of Steel, has suggested that a Justice League adaptation likely won't happen any time soon.

What does that mean?  I don't know.  In Hollywood time, that could mean 3 minutes or 3 decades, or it could mean a black hole has popped into existence and swallowed DC.  A lot of folks want to see Flash and Wonder Woman in film form before Justice League reaches the big screen.  I,
however, think that would be a bad idea.

I am awesome.  That is all.

First, I don't know how Hollywood will manage to avoid ruining both the Flash and Wonder Woman without completely revamping the characters, and, thus, retconning most of what has defined the character in the last 50 years.  The problem?  Both characters are prone to ridiculousness in the Hollywood world.  After all, the only serious portrayals of either characters in the last two decades have been in cartoons, which I don't think necessarily translate well into live action (in part because the things you can do in a cartoon are difficult to do well with real people -- see every CG hellhole Hollywood has tried to make, hence my concern).  There is also the very real problem embodied in the universe the current film DC adaptations have presented:  a dark, serious universe.  There isn't a lot of room for camp in in a world where Nolan's Batman and Superman exist, and that means any interpretation of the Flash or Wonder Woman has to reject its predecessors quite soundly to make any coherent sense.  That doesn't mean we need a Nolan-style treatment of either character (let alone of the various other members of the JL -- Green Arrow (on TV right now, in fact)*, Aquaman, Hawkman, Green Lantern, and so on and so forth), but it does mean DC and Hollywood have to seriously reconsider how to place these characters within a cinematic universe.

That said, it's important to realize that a lot of DC's characters have baggage from previous film histories.  Batman and Superman have mostly escaped their own baggage.  Not easily, of course.  Batman made a minor shift in the Tim Burton films, fell into the abyss with Forever and Robin, and then took a huge turn (for the best, I believe) with the Nolan trilogy.  Superman had a similar journey.  My hatred of Returns notwithstanding, the film did at least offer a lead-up to the Nolan-influenced Man of Steel.
The same cannot be said for Wonder Woman or the Flash -- at least, not within the live action franchises.  Wonder Woman, for example, has never seen a big screen adaptation, though many are still quite fond of the 1970s adaptation starring Lynda Carter (not to mention all the love for the various cartoon versions).  She's quite likely to return to the small screen soon, which I think would be a great idea; DC (or one of the studios -- not sure which) has actively been trying to bring her back to TV for several years (a 2011 pilot flopped at NBC, but the CW has expressed interest in pushing their own adaptation called Amazon).  The same is true for the Flash.  He had a TV movie in 1990 and plenty of appearances in cartoons.  But he has yet to make the jump to the big screen, and probably won't (though this IMDB page suggests otherwise).  All of these facts are good reasons for both characters to have their own films...eventually.  I, however, think DC would be better off going another route.
If DC is hell bent on bringing these characters to the big screen, I think the best direction would be to release Man of Steel 2 (whatever it might be called), followed by the first Justice League movie.  In the interim, Wonder Woman and the Flash should have origin narratives put up on the small screen; after Justice League (assuming success), new film narratives can take the limelight (or they can stick with TV).  Doing so will have a few important impacts:

1. TV adaptations will allow the characters to develop in the sort of depth they deserve.
2. We'll avoid the uncomfortable mess of 2.5 hour camp-fests (Wonder Woman especially; she's a cool character, but her origin story will not inspire audiences).  I don't think film origins of these characters will do them justice, in part because most of us haven't seen the characters outside of the comic "universes."  If you're not a Flash fan already, you don't know anything about him (and vice versa for Wonder Woman).  And, well, I don't think characters with super-speed work all that well on the big screen (that's my personal hangup, though).
3. I think starting with the trifecta of TV series (Green Arrow, Wonder Woman, and the Flash) will also give DC's franchise a huge boost in the right direction.  If you create three TV shows that cross over one another, each leading towards a Justice League film, you cross-pollinate your audience quite brilliantly.  A good deal of people will watch all three, some will watch one or two, and some will come from entirely different avenues:  following on the heels of Batman and Superman.  Basically, hitting almost every direction at once seems like a perfect method for making a Justice League movie a success.

Granted, none of this is likely to happen.  If DC is hell bent on releasing a Justice League movie in 2015, then it doesn't really matter what I think.  Two years is hardly enough time to get two new TV series off the ground.  My hope is that a film version of Wonder Woman provides roughly the same tone as Marvel's Thor.  Two parts serious, one part camp.  If you allow the camp to override everything else, the film will be a disaster.

I can dream, of course, but dreaming isn't the same as reality.  Whatever happens, I sincerely hope they get it right.  Marvel's cinematic universe is killing in the box office right now.  Even with Nolan's exceptional Batman films, DC's cinematic universe is one step away from self-destruction.  Batman and Superman movies are wonderful, but we need more.  We need Marvel's level of cinematic pollination in DC's cinematic universe.  It'll be great for DC, great for comic book movies, and great for film overall.

I guess we'll see what happens.**

This is the bad idea I'm talking about...

*Including Green Arrow in a Justice League film might actually make for an interesting crossover.  Assuming the show remains on the air for the next few years, there's ample opportunity to suck in audiences from two different directions and lead up to a Justice League movie in a slow and deliberate manner.  Imagine having an entire season of a TV show leading us up to a film.  You could do so much with this!  The entire season could involve conflicts and events, the climax or conclusion to which could appear in the film version.

**If they cast Megan Fox as Wonder Woman, I will lose my friggin mind.  However, if they bring in Nathan Fillion as the Green Lantern, I will rejoice, for the Lord will have spoken...

What's going on over at the Skiffy and Fanty compound?  Quite a lot, actually!

Now that I have this magic tablet thing, I've been able to take advantage of all the lovely stuff floating around on ComiXology (a comic store/reading app).  And since I'm now a comic book nut, I figure it's fair to toss some more reviews at you all.

For those that don't know, the syllabus I had designed for an American Lit. survey course got rejected.  The reasoning behind that rejection makes sense, and I've been told point blank that if I want to teach that same course in the Spring (under a World Literature heading), it'll happen.  But that means I've got to put together an entirely new syllabus.

As of this moment, I am thinking about framing this survey course with the loose theme of "American identity."  I want to have as wide an exploration of this question as possible, both to show the breadth of such concerns within American lit and to avoid having too narrow of a focus (i.e., one segment of identity).  There are a number of novels, short stories, and plays I am considering for the syllabus, including some that I've taught before (such as Black No More by George Schuyler).  But I'd like to expand my focus.

This is where you come in.  Which novels, short stories, or plays would you suggest for a syllabus loosely concerned with "American identity"?  So long as the work is written by someone from the U.S. after 1900, it qualifies.  Genres are not relevant, though I always include a little science fiction (sometimes fantasy) in my syllabi (I'm currently thinking about teaching One for Sorrow by Christopher Barzak, for example).

So have at it!

(Note:  I am interested in canonical work as well as work by various ethnic or minority groups, including African Americans, Native Americans, LGBT folks, refugees (and related categories), women, and so on and so forth.  I deliberately write my syllabi to include a range of different groups to show my students that the "canon" is not really a representation of American literature as a whole and that these other literary "groups" are important.  Understand that I can't fit everything in.  I feel bad about that every time I teach a survey course.  I want to cover every single group imaginable, but I can't.  16 weeks just isn't enough time :( ).

I'd like to share a story with everyone.  Today, I went to see World War Z.  It's a zombie film, so I've been looking forward to it for a while (zombies are the only thing that legitimately scares me anymore, with rare exception).  So I put on some pants, shuffled out the door, and walked the 2 miles to the nearest Regal Cinema (#14 in Gainesville, FL, in case you were wondering).  Don't feel bad for me about having to walk that far, though.  I got to read comic books on my Nook HD+ on the way, and I purposefully chose to walk (buses don't run often enough on the weekends anyway).

In any case, I've been going to this theater since I moved to Gainesville (except when I have to go to the other one to see things Regal #14 doesn't carry).  It's a decent enough place.  Nothing special, but I've never had any issues with the theater before, except the occasional annoying jabberface.  Unfortunately, jabberfaces are common at all theaters.  I say this so you'll understand why I was so shocked by what I experienced there.

About 30-45 minutes into World War Z, another patron decided to start having a conversation with his female companion (girlfriend, sister, or something).  Occasional comments don't bother
me; I do that myself when I'm with others.  But this fell within the "full blown conversation" territory.  That annoys the hell out of me, and for good reason.  I don't go to the movies to listen to other people talk; I go, obviously, to see a movie.  And that's what I expect when I go to a theater.  A movie experience.  An immersive experience.  I want to get lost in the movie.  I want to forget that I'm in a theater so I can enjoy the hell out of what is going on up on that big screen thing.  And when a jabberface ruins that experience, it understandably annoys me.  Jabberfaces suck you right out of that immersive experience.  They inject something from the real world into the fantasy one.  They destroy the movie experience entirely.  I dislike jabberfaces quite a lot, you see.  And so do a lot of other people.

So it was with trepidation that I turned and offered my first-line-of-defense:  the "shhh."  I shushed this individual and his companion not just once, but three times before I and another nearby patron finally got fed up, turned around and told him to please be quiet.  I think my exact words were, "Could you please stop having a conversation?"  I don't think the other guy was so nice (there may have been a "fuck" in there), but I don't fault him for such language.  It had to be said.

And here's where it gets insane.  The jabberface decided that instead of kindly shutting up so the rest of us could enjoy the movie, he would instead flex his little muscles and confront us for our behavior.  I honestly can't remember half of what he said, since most of it was incoherent crotch-grabbing nonsense, but here's the gist:  "You don't know me. You shut the fuck up or I'll come over there and shut your face for you.  And as for you (me), you just sit there and shut your mouth."  That's the really watered-down version.  His actual tirade went on for a full minute, in which he primarily flexed his manly muscles at the other annoyed patron.  There were borderline threats made during the tirade, along with a sea of n-words and other swear words.

Unfortunately, when these things happen, I shut down.  In all honesty, I think most instances of physical confrontation are moronic, and since I'm not a glutton for pain, I tend to avoid them as much as possible.  In this case, I didn't see a point in engaging with someone who clearly couldn't disentangle "greatest offense against my person EVER" from "please don't have a conversation in a movie theater."  I shut down and ignored him as best I could, partly out of fear and partly out of a refusal to give in to childish antics.  If he was willing to fight over something as stupid as being asked to shut up during a movie, then there was no point engaging with him any further.

Eventually, he realized the other patron wasn't going to back down, so he sat his little childish toosh down and tried to play the "now where were we" card.  But he'd clearly lost.  There was no saving face when you're the guy that looks like a petulant child in front of hundreds of other people.  At some point during all this, someone had gone to tell a manager.  Several minutes later, the manager came in and had a talk with the two men.  I don't know what she said to them, as she apparently had the magic gift for conversation-in-a-theater-that-nobody-else-can-hear.  However, I gathered what she had done:  issued the warnings that would put jabberface in his place.  From that moment on, the theater was quiet (except for the occasional giggle from someone who found amusement in teeth-chattering).

When the film ended, there were no further confrontations.  I spoke briefly with some other folks who stayed behind in the theater and came to the conclusion that we all were rather shocked by what had happened.  One of the other patrons (an un-involved one) told me that he had asked his son to move to the other side of the theater to avoid the confrontation entirely.  I don't blame him.  When someone stands up in a theater puffing and throwing out borderline fighting words, it's entirely reasonable to take precautions (and certainly so in this day and age).  He was doing what a good father does:  protect his family.

Afterwards, I went to talk to the manager.  Honestly, I don't remember her name, but she was a nice individual who listened to my concerns and answered my questions about appropriate procedure.  How exactly does a theater handle something like this?  She seemed to have a good idea how to handle the situation, and clearly her skills in defusing a situation are worth commending.  Her talk with the enraged jabberface managed to keep the theater quiet and civil for the remainder of the film.  On that front, she did an excellent job.

On top of all of that, she also spoke to me with a great deal of respect and concern.  She apologized for my uncomfortable experience.  It wasn't her fault, of course.  I told her as much, but that didn't stop her from displaying genuine concern for my experience.  We spoke about the oddness of the situation (she'd never seen anything like that before either) and related subjects, until finally she offered me a comp movie ticket.  I didn't ask for it.  In fact, I had no intention of asking for it.  I only went to speak with her to ask her advice on how best to handle future situations and what they can do about such people (throw them out, issue warnings, etc.).  I didn't expect a comp ticket.  Don't get me wrong, though.  I like my comp ticket just fine, and I intend to use it, but sometimes I think generosity can smack us good in the face when we're not expecting it.  And it feels good...

If anything, the whole film experience was like night and day:  one really terrible moment followed by a reaffirmation that there are wonderful people in this world after all.  People like that deserve a little credit, I think.  And I'm going to do the best I can to give this individual her due.  If there's a customer service line for Regal, I'm going to call and provide feedback.  The reasons are obvious.  This whole experience could have been awful.  But she managed to alleviate all of that by demonstrating an incredible amount of professionalism and humanity.

So that's basically it.  Thanks to the staff of my local Regal Cinema, and special thanks to the lovely manager who treated me like my experience actually mattered.  A+

The other day, Damien G. Walter posted the following on his Google+ account:

The Japanese film studios sure know how to make fun-looking SF/F films. I'd see this for sure...if it played in theaters in the states. Wouldn't you?

After a brief Twitter discussion with Paul Weimer, I've decided to move the Shoot the WISB segments over to The Skiffy and Fanty Show.  There are a few reasons for this, but the fact that this blog is, well, a blog is the most obvious of those reasons.

In any case, if you want to hear the latest episode, you can do so here.  Paul and I are joined by David Annandale and Michael Underwood to discuss Man of Steel!

Thanks for listening!

Admit it -- this is pretty damn awesome.

Now they just need to do that for all the other great SF writers...

You've probably already seen it, but if you haven't, here you go.  If you scroll down to the comments section, you can see a lot of other responses to the situation.

In short, Theodore Beale (a.k.a. Vox Day) is our resident loud-mouthed racist and misogynist.  This is not a bit of name calling.  This is just established fact.  The things he's written about women and people of color so clearly define him as among the most vile minds among us that I'm surprised it took until Amal's post to spark serious discussion about expelling him from the SFWA.  Then again, I suppose this is the first time he's explicitly broken "the rules."  And that's the crux of the matter:  Beale/Day used an official SFWA space to increase his readership (as opposed to N.K. Jemisin who gave a speech at a non-SFWA function), and in doing so, he turned SFWA's voice into a loudspeaker for racism.  It's like the guy comes straight out of a D.W. Griffith film...

I may have more to say about this whole thing later, but if not, there's plenty of interesting stuff to read in Amal's post alone.  The links at the bottom of that post add a whole lot more.

Anywhoodles.

Honestly, I hated Superman Returns because it established Superman as virtually (though not actually) limitless, at which point he becomes uninteresting to me as a hero. Clearly Kryptonite doesn't really matter. He can lift entire islands of the stuff into the sky, so all this talk about it being his bad news bears is really just nonsense. At best, it's a nuisance.  And since he can basically do anything, there's no reason to ever worry that he will fail. That's what makes a good hero for me. We know, deep down, he won't fail, but on the outside, we see his weaknesses and know that it's always possible that he will (or she, for that matter).

What also makes Superman a fantastic hero isn't his strength and other abilities; it's his constant need to do the right thing, even in the face of terrible adversity. This is why I think the trailer for the new film is so effective (even if the film falls short -- haven't seen it, so I can't say). The idea that Superman is someone we're supposed to look up to and an image to strive towards makes him such
a compelling figure, not because he's got all those powers, but because he is the guy who will brave the storm for his fellow "man", even if that storm is likely to kill him. (You can see why the military is using Superman to sell volunteering in some of their recent ads, since the idea behind the trailer for the new Superman film clearly jives with the mythic formation of the soldier -- the one who sacrifices for others).

And while a lot of that is in Superman Returns, it is trampled by the complete retconning of Superman's abilities (in my mind, anyway). Yeah, he does go and do the big, dangerous thing, but in doing so, he ceases to be something for which we can reasonably strive. He becomes god or close enough to it that the distinction isn't relevant. What might have made Superman Returns a better film is if the great hero had to rely on the help of regular humans for once. Maybe the military storms in as Luther is about to deal the final blow to Superman. Maybe, like in Spiderman (the first Raimi film), a bunch of regular folks start chucking rocks and telling Luther to frak off, because if you mess with Superman, you mess with humanity. This would humble Superman, and it would remind us that his abilities are not what makes him who he is. They're just icing on the cake, as it were. No, what makes Superman admirable is his personal strength and his ability to inspire. Superman has principles, and he sticks to them no matter what.  He fights while the rest of us cower, and in doing so, he gives us courage.  But in Superman Returns, I don't need to create my own courage.  The god will save me.  I can cower away and let greater beings do everything for me.  I am weak.  I am nothing.

That's why I hated Superman Returns.

This originally appeared on my Facebook page as a response to Alex Bledsoe.

Anyone with a passing familiarity with Carl Sagan's popularization of science will recall his profound optimism, both with humanity's scientific endeavors and its almost desperate need to strive for "more."  I think it's fair to say that he imagined science as humanity's great thrust to greatness -- to controlling itself and its environment.  After all, he famously said that "[imagination] will often carry us to worlds that never were. But without it we go nowhere."  And while he was not a religious man, he didn't fear suggesting that science could provide a spiritual vision of the world:

Science is not only compatible with spirituality; it is a profound source of spirituality. When we recognize our place in an immensity of light‐years and in the passage of ages, when we grasp the intricacy, beauty, and subtlety of life, then that soaring feeling, that sense of elation and humility combined, is surely spiritual. So are our emotions in the presence of great art or music or literature, or acts of exemplary selfless courage such as those of Mohandas Gandhi or Martin Luther King, Jr. The notion that science and spirituality are somehow mutually exclusive does a disservice to both.

Sagan's optimism, understandably, bleeds through the narrative of the film adaptation of Contact (1997) (how could it not?).  Ellie's father, Ted (David Morse), for example, answers his young daughter's (Jena Malone) question about life in the universe by cleverly playing the "it's too damned big of a universe" card -- he suggests that if there isn't anyone else out there, then all that space is wasted.  Adult Ellie (Jodie Foster) eventually relays these lines to preacher/religious popularist Palmer Joss (Matthew McConaughey), who also repeats them to the world after Ellie's return from her mission and the media firestorm of the perceived failure of the project (not to mention Ellie's implication that faith in her story is necessary).
What's fascinating about the film (and, I suspect, the book, which I have not read) is its refusal to shy away from implying that this optimism will ultimately form the basis for a faith argument for science.  In the end, it is that unison of religion and science which offers one of Sagan's most optimistic visions:  namely, that science and religion could ever unify in an increasingly hostile political environment. Palmer and Ellie are themselves stand-ins for these respective fields, suggesting that the romantic conclusion of their narrative must be deferred too, lest faith be rested from the audience on all counts.  Sagan must have been quite hopeful for the future of science to have imagined a world where the greatest religious "threat" to science is an attractive religious guru who can see the writing on the wall.  Hence why the last line in the above quote is so crucial:  "The notion that science and spirituality are somehow mutually exclusive does a disservice to both."  Contact is essentially Sagan's spiritual mind at work, imagining all the possibilities of the science and spiritual realms coming together for the same united purpose:  seeking some deeper truth about the universe -- science on the natural questions; spirituality on the questions about understanding our place in a suddenly crowded universe.  Sadly, if Contact had been written in the late 2000s, Sagan might have seemed naive.
Perhaps that's actually a good thing.  When people called for more optimistic SF in 2009-2010 (resulting in Vries' Shine Anthology), they must have had Contact on the mind, if not in actuality, then in spirit.  Contact is a film that strives to find the positive in a world bloated with bureaucracy, religious terrorists, and fear (it is also a largely male world we are presented, with some exceptions).  The government wants to control everything, the vain scientists want to use Ellie's discovery to further their own careers, even at the expense of others, the people at large cower or clamber in supplication before things they do not yet understand, and, finally, the religious extremists, seeing this great moment as a threat to their authority, want to destroy the entire project, even if that means preventing humanity's next great leap forward.

Ellie's almost desperate need to remain involved, to discover whatever is "on the other side," to leap into the darkness and bring back answers, holds her up in this storm.  She won't participate in the politics or the glory of discovery; she only wants to discover, to know, to understand.  Unlike the people around her, with the exception, perhaps, of Palmer and a handful of minor characters, Ellie has only one desire:  to use this momentous occasion to understand humanity's place in the universe.  It's her optimistic view of the world that I find so pleasant.  She truly believes in the mission, not because it will bring her material wealth in the future, but because taking the leap of faith by building and using the machine will actually advance human knowledge.  She is the idealized scientist (the film actually offers a foil to this idealized image; he dies -- not insignificantly).
But whereas Ellie's journey to discover "the answers" proves successful, the world at large is left in the dark. The aliens, descended from a collective who occasionally reach out to new species as those species reach the next stage in their technological evolution, prevent anything but 17 minutes of static from being recorded during Ellie's trip.  In a final nerve wracking scene, Ellie must defend herself against a verbal onslaught by the government, almost as if in a mirror of McCarthyism.  The irony?  For a government so encumbered with religious thought, they cannot accept her meek request that everyone has to take what she says on faith (she doesn't put things in those exact words, but that has to do with her apprehension over faith).  It's not made clear whether the government does take her seriously, or if they see this as an opportunity to attack her and the billionaire financial backer who made the project possible.
Regardless, the fusion of science and faith in those final moments reminds us that the divide between the spiritual and scientific realms is anything but absolute.  Rather, conflating the two can provide the necessary impetus for growth that humanity needs.  In this case, that growth is the desire to continue reaching out, stretching our little fingers just a little further to join our brethren in the sky.  In a way, this film is as much about science and faith as it is about the American space program.  Neil Degrasse Tyson is noted for discussing something related to this:  the dreams of a nation.  He reminds us that the Soviet Union's space program became the driving force for America's stretch to the heavens, and that once we realized that our "enemies" weren't going to make it to the moon, we stopped stretching.  In the variations of his quotes about dreams, I prefer this one (taken from the video at the bottom of the page):  "Nobody's dreaming about tomorrow anymore. The most powerful agency on the dreams of a nation is currently underfunded to do what it needs to do, and that's making dreams come true."

Unlike the shock factor of Sputnik, which, as Tyson suggests (and many other NASA historians), galvanized the U.S. space program, Contact suggests that the next driving force for human exploration into space could be the knowledge and faith that we're not alone.  Rather than falling into the trap of violence (as Stephen Hawking would many years later), Sagan presents that next stage as familial.  By taking that next leap, we will join the brotherhood/sisterhood of species and become part of something greater than ourselves.  We no longer have to fear loneliness, pointlessness, or the terror of the void.  That, I think, is the most optimistic message of the entire film.  And I think we should embrace it.

Nothing I'm about to say here will seem cohesive.  I've become obsessed with comics, if you didn't already know.  Gloriously and deliciously obsessed.  You all probably saw it coming, though, particularly after I wrote this post about my first trip to a comic shop in years (and this review I wrote some time back).  What follows will be a rough outline of my journey into this new obsession...thus far -- by way of what I've read.

Since my first trip to the comic store, I have read the following comics or hardcover/softcover collections (in print or digital form)(I've included quick thoughts under each item):

• Batman (New 52) Vol. 1:  The Court of Owls (Snyder, Capullo, and Glapion)
• I freaking loved it!  So much so that I have officially become a Batman nut, and this despite having almost always been a Marvel guy.  Snyder is an amazing writer, in my very humble and ignorant opinion.  If you are interested in superhero comics, I definitely recommend The Court of Owls.  I'm not sure you could get into it if you weren't already familiar with Batman as a character, but if you've seen the Nolan Batman movies and enjoyed them, then I think you'll love The Court of Owls.
• Green Lantern (New 52) Vol. 1:  Sinestro (Johns and Mahnke)
• Honestly, I was not impressed.  This collection contains the full narrative arc for the start of the new Green Lantern series, but it moves so quickly that all the character development is shoved to the side.  I love action in comics (see some of the stuff that I'll mention later), but I need something more than thin character conflict amidst lots of fighting and flashy stuff.  I don't know if this is a reflection of the entire set of Green Lantern comics (there are many), but this one didn't impress me enough to check them out.
• The Avengers Disassembled (trade paperback)(Bendis and Finch)
• I bought this because it forms the basis for the huge shifts in The New Avengers series.  Unfortunately, so much happens in such a short series that I couldn't get into it.  Essentially, the Scarlet Witch alters all of reality, killing off a lot of characters, turning people against one another, exposing some of her friends' worst fears, etc.  And why does she do this?  Because she's sort of gone insane.  The problem?  None of this is explored in any depth.  We start with action, we continue with action, and we end with action.  Maybe there's more to this that I'm not seeing, as sometimes happens in Marvel (other series might address what occurs here, for example), but considering how good the Avengers vs. X-Men cross-over has been thus far, I don't really see that as an excuse.  Basically, I was not impressed.
• The New Avengers:  Breakout (Vol. 1, trade paperback) (Bendis and Finch)
• Following the conclusion of The Avengers Disassembled, this first volume in the new-ish series actually improves upon the flaws of its predecessor.  But it still does not reach the same level as some of the things I'll list here that I actually loved.  Yes, there is a lot more character development (particularly surrounding Stark and Captain America as they deal with trying to make a new response team in a drastically different world), but I found the initial "OMG, all da mutants got out-a-da jail" plot pretty dull.  This stuff happens so often in superhero comics that I honestly can't figure out why humans and mutants alike haven't bothered trying to figure out ways to stop jailbreaks from happening.  That said, I do think this moves things in the right direction.
• Uncanny X-Men #1 (Marvel NOW) (Bendis, Bachalo, Townsend, Mendoza, Vey, and Caramagna)
• First, I do not recommend starting with this particular incarnation of the classic series (what is referred to as Uncanny X-Men Vol. 3).  The first issue refers to a number of huge events that occurred in the Avengers vs. X-Men cross-over, which you can find in trade paperback collections.  Basically, you need to read that cross-over before you dive in here, unless you don't care about what happened to some of the classic X-Men characters (deaths, people switched sides, etc. etc. etc.).  However, the first issue is really good.  For some reason, Bendis does an excellent job creating balance between character and the group-focus of the X-Men (something he didn't do all that well in the New Avengers stuff).
• X-Men #1 and #2 (Stan Lee)
• That's right, the classic X-Men!  And they are bloody terrible.  Yes, I know they are representative of the time period and that many of the things I can't stand about the classic Stan Lee comics existed for a reason, but I definitely prefer reading newer stuff.  Nostalgia is nice, but I can only take so many sexist jokes at a time...
• Marvel Point One:  Behold the Watcher (2011) (too many names to list)
• Everything I have to say about this can be found here.
• All of the following are part of a narrative sequence -- hence the odd order.  I gave up trying to list all the names (sorry):
• The Avengers:  Sanction #1 - #4, The Avengers #24.1, Avengers vs. X-Men #0-#1, Wolverine and the X-Men #9, New Avengers #24, Avengers vs. X-Men #2, Avenger #25, AvX:  Versus #1, Uncanny X-Men #11, and AvX #3.
• Honestly, I'm still neck deep into this particular series, and I'm loving every single issue.  There's a lot of action, of course, but one of the things I really like is the attempt to get into the heads of each character as the action ramps up.  Basically, most of these issues actually explore the personal conflicts of the characters leading up to the physical conflict.  There are a few hiccups here or there, but I think the series is fantastic overall.  If you like group-based superhero stuff, I definitely recommend this one, not just because it's good, but also because it also sets up a lot of the stuff that happens in the Marvel NOW Uncanny X-Men series.

I am currently reading the following (w/ brief thoughts):

• Batman:  No Man's Land Vol. 1 (trade paperback) (Gale and Maleev)
• I'm loving this.  It reminds me a lot of Nolan's The Dark Knight Rises in terms of its basic plot (quarantined Gotham -- nobody is allowed in or out, etc.).  I'll definitely finish this one and get started on the second volume soon.
• Batman:  The Black Mirror (hardcover) (Snyder and Jock)
• I'm only an issue into this short run by Snyder (which I bought because Snyder's New 52 Batman is genius), but I already love it.  What I find interesting about all the Batman stuff is how many different artistic styles there are at any given time.  The character sort of remains the same (he's much darker today, I think), but the visual Batscape always changes.  Someone should write a paper about this...
• The New X-Men (Grant Morrison sequence, Vol. 1) (trade paperback)
• I picked this up on a whim.  I've heard good things about Morrison, so I decided to give his New X-Men series a shot.  So far, I haven't been disappointed.  The first volume is a little weak for me, but I know that the second volume starts with a bit of a bang (I started reading in the middle for some reason).

(Note:  I originally intended this as a short comment on this recent post by Jason Sanford.  In his post, he basically suggests that the men in our field need to stand up and say "no" to sexism; his post is, I think quite obviously, a response to the SFWA Bulletin kerfluffle from this weekend, which he also wrote about here.  Both of his posts are worth reading.  In any case, my response will maintain its original format, so assume the "you" refers to Sanford.)

I've found it rather frustrating to hear people defend some of these sexists (or people engaging in sexist activity) against attack (I'm not using any particular individual in this comment, even though I think it's obvious that your post is in response to the SFWA Bulletin thing).  They often say things like "attacking the person is wrong" or "they are really nice people" and so on and so forth.  I don't doubt that a lot of people who say or do sexist things don't realize that what they're
doing is, in fact, sexist (not all, but some).  Some of them have always done these things and probably haven't been formally challenged before; their responses, in many cases, are not unusual in that respect.  When you've done something your whole life, and have never been properly challenged for that behavior, a shift in the dialogue surrounding said behavior may seem like an attack on one's person.  I am, of course, speaking from my own assumptions and from my own experiences as someone who considered himself a pro-women's-rights-but-not-a-feminist man who subscribed to a number of sexist concepts/ideas/assumptions without realizing they were sexist.  Granted, I've never seriously suggested anything quite as batshit as we've seen among the radical contingent in SF/F (i.e., the Vox Days).

But there comes a point at which we have to demand change.  Just because you are a nice person and you do nice things for writers and what not is not an excuse for us to ignore other poor behavior.  Bad behavior is bad behavior.  Holding our tongues just because someone is a nice person or because it's supposedly "civil" will not change that behavior.  People who defend the sexists in our midst sometimes don't understand that leaving such behavior unchallenged actually validates it.  It reinforces the behavior.  While it's a nice thought to suggest that women should have stood up for themselves back in the day, we have to remember that a lot of the ideas we've seen raised in official SF/F platforms are descended from a time when women didn't have the political authority to change things from the inside -- not if they wanted careers in SF/F.  In some respects, that's still true (as you noted when you pointed to Ann Aguirre's disheartening post about her treatment as a woman in our community -- the hate mail is horrifying).  SF/F is getting better, but it is not helped by leaving sexism or any nasty ism unchecked.  And that means telling people off for shitty behavior.  I'm not sure how you do that without making those individuals realize that there is a social cost for said behavior, which is where I tend to disagree with some defenders who call foul on ad hominem attacks -- if the statement is true, then the fallacious form does not arise.

Another thing that annoys me about this discussion is the odd, and sometimes occasional, double standard.  For some reason, we're supposed to accept sexist behavior as "something you wave off," whereas other isms are unacceptable.  If X spends an entire column saying anti-Semitic or clearly racist things, we are right to look down on that -- you don't talk about *insert racial slurs here* in our community without paying the social cost everyone else pays.  But if X say a bunch of sexist things, suddenly you can't go after them.  We just have to realize they're nice guys, and we should show them the same respect they...don't show to women?  (See N.K. Jemisin's comment below for why everything in this paragraph is bullcrap.)

I think that's bullshit.  There isn't an easy way to point out sexism without going after the person.  Behavior comes from within.  Good people look at criticism of their behavior and learn from it.  They don't self-censor.  They learn.  I've learned a hell of a lot the last few years, despite having always been a feminist (sorta -- see above).  And it has made me a better person, because I recognized my own failings, my own sexist inclinations (inherited from a still largely sexist culture), and I worked on them.  That's not censorship.  That's not thought-policing.  That's what we do when we want to make for a better world.  We try to be better people.

I think it's fair to say that you and I (or anybody) are not expecting perfection.*  We are expecting some semblance of growth, though.  It's no longer acceptable to say "back in my day, we could do whatever we wanted and nobody said a thing."  That kind of logic allows one to support all manner of poor behaviors.  Progress doesn't happen when we are stuck in the past.  It happens when we learn from the past and try to move towards something better.  Humanity is an imperfect beast, and part of life, in my mind, is trying to reach the next step on the way to perfection.  It's like a ladder to the stars:  each new rung brings us closer to the nearest star, until finally we reach it and realize there are other stars to reach, and so we continue putting up new rungs.

I'm rambling.  The point is that I agree with the notion that we all need to speak out against this behavior (though some of us never will).  We need to support the people who have already spoken out, whether they are women or men.  Sexism is wrong (obvious statement is obvious).  No.  It's bullshit.  We should call it out when we see it, no matter our genders.  And we should definitely make sure it no longer uses the voice of the various professional organizations in our field, because that's the last place these kind of behaviors belong.

And I'll shut up now...

*The original sentence did not include the "not."  I've since corrected that.

And once again, some oldies sprung up out of nowhere and took some spots from the new boys.  I don't know why these posts remain so popular, but so be it.

Here's the list:

10.  Shocking Revelations:  Pointing Out Racism Doesn't Mean You Hate White People
9.  Link of the Week:  Judith Butler Explained with Cats!
8.  The Black Guy is Ruining the Fantastic Four Reboot!
7.  Movie Review:  Star Trek (Why It Sucks and Why Abrams Needs to Stop)
6.  Top 10 Cats in Science Fiction and Fantasy
5.  The End of Good Writing:  The Damage of Twilight, Harry Potter, and Their Friends
4.  Shoot the WISB #02:  Star Trek Into Darkness (2013) Reviewed w/ Paul Weimer and Jay Garmon
3.  Silly Reader Questions:  Super Powers, Magic, Bathrooms, and Poetry
2.  Top 10 Most Ridiculous Moments in Science Fiction and Fantasy Film in the 90s
1.  Top 10 Overused Fantasy Cliches

I wonder which posts people actually enjoyed reading in May...

If you haven't seen part one, go here.  Otherwise, enjoy the continuation of Anita Sarkeesian's brilliant series on women in video games.