Do I WANT To See X-Men Days of Future Past

I've been asking myself this question since the first trailer came out, possibly a year ago.

I mean, I loved X-Men: First Class. A LOT. And I really really liked The Wolverine (except for the silly climax). And, as weird as it sounds and as unpopular as this opinion might be... I liked Bryan Singer's Superman Returns. It's a really pretty movie.

So, that should erase all ill-will I have from X3 and Wolverine: X-Men Orgins, right? This is fixing the old franchise and tying it into the new, right? The cast is amazing, right?

I just... can't, though. Not after seeing the trailers. And the corporate tie-ins. Something feels... askew. Too removed from reality. Too removed from the mood of either version of the X-Men franchise.

Maybe it's because the whole "save us from this apocalyptic future" thing is exhausted (in my opinion). Maybe it's because it feels like a money grab. Maybe it's because I sort of have this inkling that when First Class did well, Singer suddenly felt a little jealous for only being involved on an executive producer level and wanted back in on the glory and pushed Matthew Vaughn out of the director's chair. Which was stupid, if you ask me. Just like it was stupid when Singer was ousted on X3 because of hissyfits over him doing Superman Returns.

X3 was a weird parody of the universe Singer had developed in the first two films. And I fear that Days of Future Past will be Singer trying to not only re-claim things too late in the game, but also try to partially parody Vaughn's new universe. Because Vaughn and writer Jane Goldman brought a very specific (and very British) tone to the film. A tone that appears to be present in the trailer for their other 2014 comic book movie- Kingsmen: The Secret Service. A movie which I AM very excited about, thankyouverymuch. A tone very different from Bryan Singer's tone, no matter how much involvement Singer had in First Class.

But don't judge a book by it's cover and don't judge a movie by it's trailers & posters. Right?

And... Dinklage! Lawrence! McAvoy! Jackman! Sir Patz & Serena!

Gah, that's a terrible poster.

I'm conflicted. Someone convince me one way or another.

When Someone Asks You If You Want A Comic-Con Badge, You Say "Yes"!

Last week, I was suddenly asked by a friend if I would be interested in a possible Comic-Con badge. The decision had to be made fast so that registration for an ID and payment could be provided if the opportunity did come through.

I had no intentions to go this year. Just as I've never gone in previous years. In 2010, I had thought about attempting it briefly, but missed the window (and had no money) for badges. But I've never really had an actual opportunity to actually go before. It has just not been feasible.

But... it is a "bucket list" item. And would mean that I'd get to spend time with two of my favorite people- one of which that I haven't seen in two years. Plus, I've just been so miserable lately and need something fun to look forward to.

First things first, I checked that it wasn't the same week as my summer conference- and, somehow, it wasn't. It's the week before, which is cutting it close, but doable.

But then I remembered that I'm moving in July. And have already been freaking out about how I'm going to afford the move, let alone afford going on vacation in the middle of the move. I'm supposed to be paying off debts and saving for the move, not planning to run away for a little bit. Plus, there's the prep for my conference that's the next week that needs to be considered. It takes at least two days immediately before the conference. And there are conversations and stuff that need to happen in the weeks leading up to the conference that I have to be a part of.

Not to mention the fact that C2E2 overwhelms me to the point where I never make it the third day. How the hell would I ever manage Comic-Con International if I can barely handle Chicago? I'd need to get a prescription for anti-anxiety medication.

And fly across the country. Because it's too close to my own conference to drive back. I hate flying.

But... Comic-Con. Being offered to me.

And, really, what were the odds that he'd actually be able to get me a badge? I mean, this is me. These things don't work out for me. And I've heard so many stories of people being so close to getting a badge and then something falling through. So, I said "yes", just to be able to say that I didn't back away from an opportunity for happiness for once.

The next day, I found out that I'm going to Comic-Con.

And, a week later, I'm now finally coming to terms with the fact.

Mister Sandman? Bring me, Dream.

When I was growing up, trips to the bookstore with my mother were a regular treat. No sarcasm.

I would ask her how much I could spend, she would give me a limit, and then we'd part ways for at least an hour.

There were difficult decisions to be made. $25 could be split so many ways. It could be one to maybe even two hardcover books. It could be up to 5, if I played my cards right, paperback books. Maybe more, if I was feeling Dover-Thrift-y.

Or it could be one graphic novel.

As I didn't have a driver's license until I was almost 19 and didn't have money until I was in my twenties (and not much at that), I relied on my mother's bookstore trips to get the bulk of my graphic novels and comics.

When I was about 15 (maybe a little before I turned 15), I discovered Neil Gaiman's Sandman series, which, the time, had just recently finished its original run. I picked up the first volume collection, "Preludes and Nocturnes" and immediately fell in love. 

It was so perfectly paced. So delicately worded. Everything about it was so precisely... meant. The only issue I ever had with it was the quality of the art at times. Which is my major qualm about most comics most of the time.

But the story... the story is the thing.

I continued to read the series, but was only able to buy about one volume per year. Yeah. One per year. 

Once I did have a license and some money, I then relied solely on finding the next volume in person. No online purchasing. I'm not sure why I did this, as I love to buy stuff online, but there was something great about walking into a bookstore or comic store, finding the Vertigo books, and looking for the right volume. Often, the one I needed would be the only one missing (currently, this is my issue with Y: The Last Man). But the day I saw it and had the $20+ to buy it? That was a great day.

But then came my super-broke years, coinciding with the heart-breaking realization at the end of Worlds' End, which then I was just stuck with and unable to read the follow-up of. 

And I couldn't buy The Kindly Ones for ages yet, because it was so freakin' big and expensive.

The day I got my first big paycheck, I bought it. And read it.

And then I became overworked and at some point forgot that I had already bought and read it. For I bought it again last year. And read it again, saying, "Hmm, I've clearly read this before..." and then noticed there was already a copy (of a different edition version, at least, on my shelf).

But then, this year, I finally bought The Wake. And then proceeded to stare at the cover of my copy of The Wake. I knew what was coming- but would it measure up? Would I be heart-broken to see it end? I know there have been additional stories by Gaiman and others, in more recent years- but this was the original intended story. I knew it was going to have AN ENDING. But I wasn't ready for the ending, despite the thirteen years of build up.

In the end, I spent New Years Day, a terrible blizzard-y day anyway, reading The Wake. And it turns out, really, most of the story was actually already told. Which shouldn't be a surprise, as there had been 9 volumes worth of story the preceded it. But have you ever realized how many long arc multi-part stories often leave ALMOST EVERYTHING IMPORTANT to the last installment? I was expecting that. Instead, I got a well crafted story that had been wrapping things up all along. Something all stories should do but never actually do. Except for this one.

In some ways, it was a little too wrapped up. Half of the issue was indeed the ending and a respectable ending at that. But the rest was... added fluff. I know others will disagree, but I cared a lot more to see the actual wake and fall-out than to read about Shakespeare's life again or about a man and a kitten in a desert. And it made me appreciate those stories less because they came after the fact. I don't know why, exactly, I feel that way.

I thought I would have so many more thoughts on the subject once I finally finished the story. I thought I was going to have my mind blown and fucked with one last and very hard time. But, instead, I was given a lovely story with a lovely end. And I almost feel like I understand what it is to sit side-by-side with Death as you realized "Oh, this is it? Huh." but she continues to sit with you while you come to terms, quite and accepting of everything about you.

Okay, maybe that's not exactly what it feels like. Finishing Sandman was not like meeting Death.

But I don't really know where to go from here. When I finished the previous volumes, my mind would be reeling and I'd be both hopeful to soon pick up the next volume while also cautious of getting one step closer to the end, ending an experience that started when I was a very different person, and through various different versions of myself, I continued to love this series. What would happen when it ended? What would happen when I reached that book with the ominous title of "The Wake". 

I don't feel the need to pick up any of the spin-off or follow-ups. Not yet. It's too soon. But I feel like something needs to happen to signify that it was a major thing to finally finish the series. But I don't know what.

Because I don't know what I feel like, having finished it. What do I do now?

I mean, other than continue to think about how to put together an amazing Death costume for C2E2, that is.

Show Your Cards

So... DC and Summit have apparently just arrived in the 21st century and realized, after already hiring Orson Scott Card, that he's a bit of a controversial figure. Something I figured out when I was 15 and, after having read all of Ender's Game, purchased a copy of Speaker for the Dead and made the mistake of reading the foreword by Card. And then attempted to also read Speaker for the Dead.

At that time, the only other book I dropped like a hot potato was Jany Eyre. Because as much as I loved Jane and her "I will dress plainly because it's how I like to dress dammit and I will be smart because I want to be dammit again" ways, I hated Mr. Rochester twice as much. Before I even knew he had a wife in the attic. But at least I dragged myself across the stupid "hear him calling me" finish line on that one.

I really liked Ender's Game. It was a great slow-burn to a great final reveal and didn't try to tell you how to feel- it just handed you the facts and let you have your own emotions about what you just read. Speaker for the Dead did the same. But the facts took my emotions to weird and uncomfortable places. More uncomfortable than 15-year-old me was willing to go. I was ready to commit to learning more about Ender's sister Valentine because she seemed like a great character and then... I just didn't feel comfortable reading further. And no one else was very interesting in the story. And I can't even remember what the foreword by OSC in that book SAID now, but I remember that it was one of those moments where I just felt like I had accidentally ended up in line for the men's bathroom when I meant to get in line for the snack bar.

And then, as I got older and times changed, Orson Scott Card revealed himself to have beliefs that I strongly disagreed with. To a point that has left me, and many other people, conflicted about our feelings about separating the artist from their art and when you can take one without the other.

Anyway, here are my thoughts on the Card-fueled Hot Water:

1) I don't know if DC is past the point of no return on their deal with Card, but I know that Summit is- they have a movie. If it's too late to back out, both companies should figure out a way to balance out their dealings with him. Donations to organizations that support Gay Rights would be a good place to start.

2) Summit should consider secretly asking OSC to "disown" the movie and therefore give the impression that they wanted to make an adaptation of Ender's Game based on the material alone and giving the impression that things were being seen eye-to-eye between Card and everyone involved with the movie.. Sort of like how Alan Moore didn't want anything to do with the Watchmen movie (not that I'm suggesting that Moore was asked to disown it. I know the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen story).

3. NOM is a hilarious name for a terrible organization. Hermoine Granger couldn't come up with a worse anagram.

Alyssa Rosenberg has said more on the topic and has said it better than me (and sooner).