“The Avengers” movie premieres in a few weeks. Jack Kirby was the co-creator of Captain America, Iron Man, the Hulk, Thor, Nick Fury, and even Loki. Without Jack Kirby, there’d be no Marvel Universe, and none of the multi-billion-dollar global enterprise associated with the hundreds of characters he created for Marvel (or for DC, for that matter).

Here’s a remembrance of Jack from his son Neal, about what it was like to grow up as Jack Kirby’s son. I met Jack Kirby twice in my life, once as a 14-year-old and once as a grown man, and both times I was speechless. I’ve met Pulitzer prize winners, presidents and governors, billionaires, movie stars, rock stars, and people of all stations of life — but I was only ever in awe of Jack Kirby.

For a quarter century now, I’ve been listening to Scott Shaw! say that line at the San Diego Comic Con during his Oddball Comics presentation. A few years ago, he brought his hilarious slideshow of the strangest, most offbeat comics ever made, to a theatre in Hollywood — and next month it comes back. (Same town, different theatre.) Here’s where to get more information, and here’s a sample of what you’ll see.

I dropped in on Wonder Con yesterday in Anaheim, and “dropping in” reminded me that, once upon a time, one could also “drop in” on its very big brother, the San Diego Comic-Con International. Whereas Comic Con is now a sold-out extravaganza featuring 150,000 people sluiced into one space and requiring military-style strategic planning to attend, when I first attended it in 1988 I believe there were 20,000 attendees and I was able to drive down on a lark, buy a ticket, and walk in. In other words:  pretty much the way one can still do with Wonder Con. While at Wonder Con yesterday, I was able to do something else almost impossible now at Comic-Con:  walk the entire exhibitors’ hall. At Comic-Con, that requires several days, good rations, and a sturdy camel. Wonder Con also had the added benefit of being staged in the same complex as a high school girls’ volleyball competition, but my friends and I pledge that we didn’t stop and watch any of that, because it was of zero interest to us. Zero.

My friend Larry Nemecek was once again hosting his show “Star Trek: Between the Cracks.” Three of his friends have pledged to gently help him find a better name for it. One name might be: “Everything you (n)ever wanted to know about ‘Star Trek.’ ” I realize that pronouncing that “(n)” is tricky, but it can be accomplished. Larry is impressively knowledgeable about Star Trek; I’m sure he knows Gene Roddenberry’s shoe size, and the whereabouts of Mr. Data’s missing car keys. In his show, Larry shares a lot of behind-the-scenes shots and a lot of trivia. As I can attest, having seen the response last year at Comic Con by my college kid’s friend, some people do want to see the inside of Rick Berman’s production trailer, circa 1987. (And I can understand that. I’m up for a discussion of all the costume and identity variations of Hank Pym, aka Ant-Man/Giant Man/Goliath/Yellowjacket/the Wasp.) So here’s the good thing:  If you didn’t make it to his panel yesterday, or catch him at some other convention appearance, you can visit his website where you can learn all sorts of Star Trek stuff every day, and sign up for his newsletter to find out even more. Here’s the link.

The only other thing I did at Wonder Con was, well, sleep. I arrived early at room 210-B, where Larry’s panel was, and sneaked off to a secluded little corner of the completely 210-A (no chairs, no tables, no people) and fell asleep on the nicely carpeted floor. This too was something that was once possible at Comic-Con — as it was at all the cons I attended in the 1970s. It felt like returning home.

For the second year in a row, badges for this year’s Comic-Con International sold out within an hour. Three of us were online and group-texting our waiting status starting when badges went on sale at 8 a.m. At 8:40, one of us was able to get badges for the three of us, and 13 minutes later it was sold out. Given the frenzy that Comic-Con now induces, this wasn’t surprising, but it still warrants attention.

Could I have gotten in some other way? Probably. I have a connection who got me a Pro pass last year; I’ve been told for years that I qualify for a Pro or Press pass (for some years, I wrote extensively about comic books; those pieces are still in print, and have been reprinted in various books over the years); and I have two Pro friends who could take me as a guest. Some of my friends can’t understand why I haven’t gone this route all along (my first Comic-Con was in 1988), so here’s the explanation again:  So much of what I do is already “work-related” (tied to paying writing work or to my company — which, again, is paying writing work) that I’ve been happy to hold onto this one thing that’s purely for enjoyment. I’ve never “worked” Comic-Con and I don’t want to. I’ve been happy to pay for the badge and support what is, after all, a (large) non-profit. How large? When I finally was able to get into the online queue to buy a ticket, I was #29387 in line. I had read that the Con was selling 60,000 badges. Total estimated revenue from those badges alone:  $10.5 million.

To give you a sense of how Comic-Con has grown, especially recently, revenue was $5.6 million in 2005; in 2009 it was $10 million. I understand there was a little global economic collapse in the middle of that, but in the depths of it, Comic-Con still had double-digit annual growth. I think attendees would sooner let their loans default and their pets die than miss Comic-Con. (By the way, if you ever want to check the IRS 990 filings by a non-profit, here’s the link.)

The year 1988, when I was newly moved to California and drove down on a lark to San Diego to attend “San Diego Comic-Con” with my roommate, is long gone. Now you practically need Eisenhower to plan your landing.

I couldn’t help noticing that Inc. magazine, which every month pays tribute to a recently deceased entrepreneur who’s made a lasting impact, this month decided to profile Richard Alf, one of the founders of Comic-Con. Here’s their obit.

In other news, I’m getting up tomorrow morning at 7:20 because, you guessed it, badges for this year’s Con go on sale at 8 (and will no doubt be sold out by 8:01). Yes, I could get in free, but I’ve been faithfully supporting the Con since 1988.

Who was the first superhero? Maybe it was Abraham Lincoln.

And here’s another moment of pop-culture history that shook my childhood:  The episode of “Star Trek” where Kirk teams up with Lincoln, and Lincoln gets killed. Again. (And Kirk has to carry on the mandate of fighting for “the good.”) As a kid, it made me sad to see that. As an adult, I have to observe that some people just seem fated to die for a cause.

Cartoonist and writer James Sturm on why he’s going to boycott the Avengers movie.

I respect Sturm’s opinion — especially because he’s a lifelong comics fan who also wrote a Fantastic Four miniseries (and a good one!) — but I’m not sure what he’s asking for. I wish he were more specific. If it’s a cash settlement:  Jack Kirby, indisputably the most important creator in the history of Marvel comics, is deceased, meaning that a settlement would benefit his heirs — who, like every one else at Marvel then and now except Kirby and Lee, also didn’t create these characters. (Nevertheless, it would be nice to see the family get some small share of the billions generated from these characters.) If it’s recognition that Sturm is advocating, I believe there’s a title card at the front of most of the Marvel movies that acknowledges Jack Kirby.

I doubt I’ll be boycotting the movie — I saw the other Marvel movies — but I’m interested in other viewpoints.

I was in Hollywood last night at the Hollywood & Highland complex for the 125th anniversary of Hollywood. (And if you think that’s a lot of ways to say “Hollywood,” well, welcome to Hollywood.) While I was there, I noted yet again the scores of amateur costumed characters pestering tourists to get their picture taken with them — and then insisting on a “tip.” One guy couldn’t even bother with a costume; a semi-fit black guy wearing a black muscle shirt emblazoned with the sobriquet “Mr. Muscles” commandeered a section of sidewalk near the Kodak Theatre and bellowed out “Mr. Muscles! GIT your PICture with MR. MUSCLES!” Nobody seemed eager to do so.

Tonight, once again, and once again in front of the Kodak, a brawl erupted. Someone posing as Jack Sparrow got into it with Catwoman (my money’s on her) and an alien and another pirate. Here’s the story in the LA Times. (If this other pirate is the one I’m thinking I’ve seen there, I’m not surprised he was involved.) Spider-Man was led away in handcuffs, and SpongeBob was detained. You can’t make this up.

Here’s a prediction:  The police and the city and the local merchants are going to get more involved in this. Exercising your free rights to parade around in a costume is one thing; presenting a public nuisance and menacing passersby is another. And my experience every place I’ve been, inside the U.S. and out, is this:  Whenever it threatens the tourist trade, the local authorities swing into action.

The Los Angeles Review of Books gives us this discussion between two historic figures — Art Spiegelman, the first comic-book writer to win a Pulitzer Prize, and Van Dyke Parks, the lyricist and Brian Wilson collaborator behind some of the best Beach Boys music (“Cabinessence,” “Heroes and Villains,” and “Surf’s Up,” to name just three). It’s an interesting discussion, to say the least.

Look closely.

(I should note that on the TV show, that rope was often slack, which would seem to defy physics. And “Hollywood Squares”-level celebrities would pop out of windows to talk to the caped crusaders. I guess in Gotham, crime really isn’t that pressing an issue.)