There are two games coming out next month that I’m eagerly awaiting. One is, of course, Marvel Ultimate Alliance 2. In which, finally, I will have to choose sides in the Marvel superhero civil war. Until now I had been an innocent bystander. One of the differences between video games and comics:  the former makes you an active participant.

That, naturally, is the main lure of video games, which takes me to the other game I’m anticipating,  The Beatles: Rock Band. I play Rock Band often. Just last week my adult niece Lisa was in town, and she and I and my three kids formed The All-Wochner Band. We broke up even faster than Milli Vanilli, and were about as talented (especially when I was on drums). The highlight was watching my 6-year-old son, microphone in hand, unhesitatingly belt out “Eye of the Tiger.” The lowlight was me crashing and burning on one of my beloved Nirvana songs. My failure was so complete that after three abortive attempts I blamed the song. I carry the shame with me. This is all great fun, but in no way compares with the vicarious thrill of reimagining yourself as one of the Beatles. This is as close as almost all of us will get (some others of us form Beatles cover bands, sentencing themselves to a lifetime of out-of-date haircuts). I long to sing “I Am the Walrus,” a song that I once theorized, in a paper I presented to the right-wing evangelical religious high school I attended, was an indictment of God. I’m also interested in taking a whack at “Why Don’t We Do it in the Road.” I hope they’re both in the game. (Kinda doubt it about the latter.)

If the main attraction to this game is the idea of sitting in as a faux fab four, I have to wonder two things:  1) Who would choose to be Ringo? On its face, this seems unanswerable. It’s almost a twist on the old Groucho Marx line:  You wouldn’t want to play with anyone who would want to be Ringo. And 2) Given that these remain almost assuredly the most famous four faces of the past 50 years, why aren’t their avatars a better resemblance? George looks close, but Paul and John don’t. Judge for yourself. Here’s the “Ticket to Ride” video from the game, coming out on the cute release date of 9/9/09.

And here are the human versions lip-synching to the same hit video. You’ll note how much more like the real Beatles they look here. And by the way, check out John’s mug to the camera at 1:39, as he lets us in on the little secret that they’re lip-synching, or George’s knowing look later on. That sort of clowning was essential to the Beatles, and I hope it made it into the game too.

The Wall Street Journal documents the astonishing sales that follow every appearance of comics’ foremost new hero:  Barack Obama. (Thanks to Doug Hackney for apprising me of this.)

No, I don’t like this sort of hero worship. To quote another hero, “With great power comes great responsibility.” Without oversight and skepticism, that great power is too often used irresponsibly. And yes, there is enormous opportunism going on here (it would be hard to believe that other publishers didn’t take notice when Marvel grossed more than a million bucks on Obama’s appearance in “Spider-Man.”).

But there are two other factors going on as well:  1) Obama benefits by comparison with the quote-unquote president he succeeded; and 2) Obama is a self-confessed comics fan, especially of Spider-Man. (Which helps explain how he got so many votes. Just counting everyone at Comic Con, that’s more votes than several key Western states combined.)

So here’s DC Comics’ bold new idea:  a return to Sunday newspaper-style comics.

It’s called “Wednesday Comics,” and the uncleverness of that title presages the bad idea behind all this:  recapturing an era that reached its peak 50 years ago or more. Yes, every Wednesday for 12 weeks, DC is putting out a folded newspaper-print section of comics.  Note to DC:  There have been a few developments in the years since newspaper adventure strips were big. We call them television, and video games, and the internet. While you may find some geezer somewhere willing to wait an entire week to get one more page of story, you won’t find a large clan of people clamoring for a return to slow. My kids sneered at your first Wednesday Comics release today — “Why would anybody want that?” asked my 11-year-old daughter the avid comic-book reader — and I pointedly did not plunk down $3.99 for a series of one-page stories that will conclude months from now as we enter the holiday season. I can barely stay off my iPhone for 15 minutes and you think I’m going to spend 12 weeks crawling through a comic book one page at a time?

Meanwhile, I got my weekly email newsletter from your rivals at Marvel today. They always focus on comics that you can now read online for a small subscription fee (a model that works well; I have friends who are subscribers and who love it). You do that with that internet thing you may have heard of. Do you have anyone under the age of Methusaleh working for you? If you do, I have to think they’ve been huffing too much funnybook ink, because the idea of launching weekly one-page comics strips at the precise moment when comics strips and their host newspapers are dying is, well, dopey.

I’m sorry for your lame packaging model, because the contents look great. Paul Pope doing “Adam Strange,” “Hawkman” by Kyle Baker, “Sgt. Rock” illustrated by Joe Kubert, and especially “Metamorpho,” by the inspired pairing of Neil Gaiman with artist Michael Allred. But when I read the list of the artists and writers involved, I just got more annoyed. Why not print these as eight 24-page comics, with two stories in each? I have little doubt that around the end of the year you’ll repackage these comicitos into a hardback or two, and for a price that’s competitive with spending $48 to get all this in a format and timeframe I just don’t want. In the meantime, I would remind the comics shops that get stuck with these that newsprint is recyclable.

The irony does not escape me that my good friend Mr. Hackney, who (in)famously divested himself of all books for a Kindle and who was discussing this transmogrification with me a mere two weeks ago, has now bought me a book and sent it to me through traditional methods. (Also known as “the mail.”) I suspect, though, that the irony eluded Doug. Further irony:  I already have this book, meaning I now have two copies of it. This is the second time in two weeks that I’ve discovered that I have two copies (different editions) of the same book, both related somehow to comics.  No, Fates, I do not wish to open a comic-book store.

Doug,

Today in a little keyed box down the steps from my office I received a strange object enclosed in a larger, white, sleeve of sorts made out of some mulched tree product (is this paper?). Not knowing with surety what to do with that papery thing, I finally tugged on one end and it opened up. Inside was the other object (image imported on the left), made of a similar substance to the sleeve, except what I take to be the front of it has a wild array of colors. The interior is completely filled with black impressions — words, but they’re not on a screen. And on the first inside paper screen, it looks like your avatar script, but I get the sense that you somehow did this by hand:  “Lee, saw this and thought of you. Enjoy! Doug.” Am I right that this is only on this version of this object? So it’s mass-produced, but individualized, like the inscribed iPods from some years ago? How did you do this? Can you please tell me what tool you used? I would be curious to know.

In any event, what I really want to know is how to use this object.

I don’t see any way to turn it on. I know you’re probably laughing at me now, but I can’t find a slider or depressor anywhere. Knowing you, I thought maybe it was one of the first generation Wavio transmitters the Greater Harmony of Koreachina is developing, but when I waved my hand in front of it it still didn’t turn on. Is this the Kindle Kindle Kindle Spindle I’ve heard about? Again, it’s been long rumored (the thing has been in development for like 12 days now!), and if you’ve actually gotten hold of a K3M, I’m impressed. Whatever it is, how do I turn this on? I’m not worried about the power — because I don’t see any photoelectric cells, I’m assuming like everything else it recharges from background radiation. But I don’t know how to use it. And the colors on the front have really piqued my interest.

I feel honestly dumb to ask these things. And I’m sure the answer is right in front of me. Thank you for sending it to me — but how do I use this thing?

Best,

Lee

p.s. My elderly aunt says it’s a “book.” What is that?

Did I call Deadpool an obscure Marvel character?

That was before his closeup.

They sentenced the man who set the Griffith Park fires last summer when I was training for a marathon and snuffling up burnt forest fumes every Sunday.

He got a 16-year term. I hope security is tighter than the last time they had him.

My friend Doug — he of Doug’s Reading List and the only modern explorer any of us will ever know — was in town last week from the lower provinces of Patagonia or wherever his latest trek has taken him. You may recall that Doug, who is a reader for the ages, ejected all his thousands of books several years ago because they couldn’t fit onto a boat or a motorcycle. Now he and his wife, fellow adventurer Stephanie, have invested in a Kindle 2. I have seen the Kindle 2 and admire its functionality. But, as with print newspapers, it has proved difficult to break my addiction. I love books — not just reading them, but holding them and turning their pages and admiring their papery feeling and their floral aroma of decaying pulp. I also like having them on shelves in bookcases throughout my house and my office where I can see them and, let’s admit it, where others can see them. I check out the books in others’ homes and I like to see them checking mine out too.

But now I’m overbooked. Either that, or under-bookcased. All of our eight bookcases at home (one in office, three in kids’ rooms, one in bedroom, three in living room) are overstuffed with books and I pledged to my wife that we were done adding bookcases. And I’ve been unable to purge myself of any of these books because of the painful memory of my senior year in college when I sold my books back to the college bookstore because I needed the money. My favorite professor caught me in the act and said sadly, “Monsieur Wochner, you are selling your books?” It was heartbreaking. And stupid — because over the years I wound up buying most of them again at full price. I now know:  When you’re a playwright, you might have further need some day of “Seven Plays” by Sam Shepard, and books like it. Since then, I’ve lived in fear that the book I part with will be the book I’ll need. Having a Kindle 2 might help with that; my purchases would be digital files on Amazon.com.

But… what if Amazon.com goes out of business in my lifetime?

And what about after my lifetime? I like to think my books will find future readers. Who will read my future digitized Amazon library? Probably no one.

Here’s something that I wonder if having clear bookcases — so I could actually see the spines of the books — might help. Last night I was reading Kafka by Robert Crumb and David Zane Mairowitz. Crumb provides wonderful illustrations to summaries of Kafka’s great works, with introductory-level biographical text by Mairowitz. Recently on this blog, a friend suggested that I get this and read it, and I almost did buy it two weeks ago at my local comics store. Then I stumbled upon it in the last stack of unread books from last summer’s San Diego Comic Con. So I had already bought it and completely forgot. I dived right into it two nights ago and was thoroughly enjoying it and was surprised, given that I’m a fan of both Kafka and Crumb, that I hadn’t already bought it when it first came out, in 2004. As it was, some of it seemed familiar, but I just figured I’d seen chapters in Weirdo or other magazines with Crumb work.

I Tweeted a tiny rave about the book today and resolved to write an appreciation here tonight. In so doing, I Googled for images and found this. First thought:  “Crumb did two books about Kafka? He must be a huge fan!” Second thought: “This is an earlier edition of the same book.”  The cover looked hauntingly familiar. As in, familiar from my bookcases. I went to the “K” section of the first living room bookcase, moved aside two stacks of books, and found “Introducing Kafka” by David Zane Mairowitz and Robert Crumb right where I now thought it would be.  The same contents, but in a 1994 First Edition from Kitchen Sink Press. So I’ve now bought and read this book twice (and almost bought it thrice). That’s the downside. The upside:  It’s been a great first read — twice. Because in the 15-year interim I’d forgotten I’d read it.

(By the way, the Introducing Kafka cover  shown here has a slightly different title layout at the top than my first edition, meaning it must be a later edition. Proving that there’s still money to be made in Crumb and Kafka, if not Mairowitz.

End note:  My Google investigations turn up yet another Kafka book illustrated by Robert Crumb and with text by David Zane Mairowitz.  This one is called R. Crumb’s Kafka, “with text by David Zane Mairowitz.” I’m thinking this is the same book. (And given the title, I’m guessing it’s Mr. Mairowitz’s least favorite edition.) The cover is different, but they’re right when they say you can’t judge a book by its cover.

I’m not falling for it again.

How fortunate we are in this great land to have Free Comic Book Day. And woe to the nations that do not observe it! They do not know the despair they endure.

This year’s Free Comic Book Day might place in your hands free retro reprint editions of classic Marvel comics (Avengers #8, the first new Ant Man, the first Spider-Woman, an early Iron Fist, and so on), a great Simpsons comic starring Comic Book Guy (!), a new New Avengers / Dark Avengers mini, Sonic the hedgehog for younger boys and Betty & Veronica for stinky older sisters, and on and on. All for the cost of nothing!

Submitted for your perusal, photographic evidence of just some of the wonders available to you at your local comics store. These esteemed visitors were seen at House of Secrets in Burbank.

Mr. Incredible, defending my ability to secure free comic books.

My favorite artist, right, gets a sketch from comics artist Tony Fleecs.

My daughter Emma considers a future line of work. (After asking me why Supergirl had a navel piercing, which was “wrong.”)

Mr. Incredible trying to horn in on my action. Right after this pic, I dialed up Mrs. Incredible and that put an end to that. Still, I’m glad to be seen with four defenders of truth, justice, and the American way (the three heroes in the flesh and the hero depicted on my shirt).

Afraid you’ve missed out? There’s still time to discover similar wonders at your local comics shop. This link will direct you hither.

(Just as I suspected.)

The rest of the awful secrets are here.