Somehow, I seem to regularly miss Tom Spurgeon's Five for Fridays until he's closed the barn doors, but I still try to play on occasion. This week, he's asking to list five senior citizen-ish comics characters you like.

1. Allan Quatermain (yes, I know he wasn't originally a comic character, but Haggard's version wasn't that old)
2. Batman a la The Dark Knight Returns
3. John Hartigan
4. "Uncle Ben" Parker
5. Elijah Snow

Stereotypically, comic book fans tend to be a bit socially awkward, right? That's where the 40-year-old, virgin, living-in-their-parents'-basement image comes from. The comic book fan who simply can't interact with society on the whole well enough to engage in a "normal" conversation.

This is part of the reason why we have ComicSpace.com -- the comic book equivalent of MySpace, but directed specifically towards the comic book crowd.

So, here's my thought: what about a web site like an eHarmony or Match.com, but directed towards comic fans? Online dating for folks who've already got the comic book habit in common. Maybe the opening questionnaire has you list out what titles/creators you like, how big your collection is, whether you're more of a pamphlet kind of person or in the wait-for-the-trade camp... You could list out side hobbies like cosplay, gaming, slash-fiction... Maybe Amazon-style recommendations like, "If you liked Planetary, you might also like John Smith of Springfield, OH."

Hey, Josh, when the merger stuff settles down, how about looking into doing something along those line?

(Honestly, I really have no idea if I'm being snarky or not with this post.)

Hot damn tamales, Ahab! That's one great book! Much better than that Melville guy!

(Sorry for the light post. Haven't been in front of a comuter much today.)

I've been reading comics as long as I can remember, but the single issue that really made me latch on to comic books in a big way was Fantastic Four #254 by John Byrne. I was just absolutely captivated by the story; there was friendly reparte among the FF, a villain they didn't/couldn't just wallop into next week, an alien dimension, pop culture references, a good action sequence... There was a great sense that I was stepping into the middle of a story, but one that was easy to step into the middle of. There was stuff that happened earlier, but I didn't need to know that because I was in the story NOW.

Today I picked up Fantastic Four #551 by Dwayne McDuffie and Paul Pelletier. I was struck by how, despite it being a very different story than #254, the book had much the same feel. There's the friendly reparte, multiple villains they can't wallop into next week, time travel, a little action... There was again that sense of stepping into the middle of a story, but one that was easy to step into the middle of. There was stuff that happened earlier, but I didn't need to know that because I was in the story NOW.

On all accounts, it was a good, well-crafted comic. The story, as implied above, is solid in that the reader is given everything they need to know. It's also well written so that the reader is not left feeling like s/he is just reading exposition to make sure they have all of that information. I feel as if I've read a good complete comic, but there's still an incentive to get the next issue based on the story alone. The art is superb as well. The characters from the future actually look older, as opposed to just having white hair. And you can see a great depth of emotion in everyone's facial expressions. I was even struck by some of the textured inking that was done to emphasize some of the more "raw" moments. Kudos to the whole team that put this issue together!

For anyone who's been reading this blog, you'll know that I'd dropped all of my marvel reading except Fantastic Four because the sandbox wasn't fun any more. Their whole line just reeked of negative emotions, and I've continued to read FF almost exclusively for the nostalgia factor. So let me say that #551 is precisely the manner in which I'd hoped to continue reading the title. It felt akin to what I fell in love with, but without re-treading old material. No small feat, to be sure, so let me provide more kudos to the creative team on that front.

Here's the thing, though...

It still wasn't fun. There really wasn't that negative weightiness which caused me to drop all the other marvel books I was getting. By all rights, this issue should elicit in me a very similar reaction that #254 did all those years ago. Oh, sure, I understand that part of what grabbed me with #254 was the simple newness of everything, and it's wholly unreasonable for me to ever expect from the Fantastic Four anywhere near the level of excitement I got when I first discovered them. But #551 really wasn't all that nostalgic for me. I suppose it must have been on some level -- after all, I'm writing this post and actively remembering how I felt when I first read #254. But my recollections are strangely more academic than emotive.

"Ah, yes. Byrne opened his story with a seemingly disconnected prologue as well."

"Good to see McDuffie has brought back some of the banter that used to be a hallmark of the book."

If I were 11 years old again, and waffling on whether or not I should give up comics, I'd bet that this issue would've sucked me in just as readily as Byrne's did. But I'm 35 now, and I spent over two decades hanging out in that universe. A couple of years ago, I'd have told you that a romp in a superhero-laden world was fun and a great way to relive my childhood. But it's just not doing it for me any more, and I can't even say that it's because I'm just not reading quality material. This was a darn fine comic book, but I'm getting more "warm fuzzies" these days from the three or four decent comic strips in my local newspaper.

I walked into my Local Comic Shop during my lunch break today and left all of Life's problems at the door, as I do most Wednesdays. The folks working at the shop were, not surprisingly, busy putting new issues on the racks and sorting through customers' pull lists.

The question at hand when I walked in was posed by one of the helpers to the LCS owner. "What should this issue get filed as?" The issue in question was Tranquility Armageddon #1, whose cover makes the title appear to be "Welcome To Tranquility Armageddon." So, should it get filed under T for "Tranquility" or W for "Welcome"?

This led to a discussion about the occasional absurd ways Diamond lists titles. Although the notion Frank Frazetta's Death Dealer being listed under "Frank" was tolerable, the owner claimed listings under "Death" or "Frazetta" would've been more appropriate. The owner's wife chimed in that when they first opened the shop, she had an extremely difficult time with The Punisher as it sometimes listed as PUNISHER, THE and sometimes as THE PUNISHER forcing her to hunt for it through their paperwork each and every month, as it was rarely listed the same way as the previous month.

It was at this point that I suggested they place this week's Midnighter #13 on the shelf under "W" for Wildstorm and Star Wars Legacy #7 under "D" for Dark Horse.

More strangely, the first issue of the latest Battlestar Galactica series took them forever to find apparently, since it was listed under "N" for "NEW." Despite the word "New" not actually appearing anywhere on the cover! That rant lasted a little while.

So I picked up my various books and noticed that a copy of The Arrival had just come in, but hadn't actually been set out yet. I went to grab it and the owner's wife went to double-check that it was the one I had ordered and not somebody else's. At this point, it should come as no surprise that it took her to a while to find it. But there it was, listed with the other Ts as THE ARRIVAL.

Follow my train of thought on this one, if you will...

1. "Hey, here are some pictures online from people's Halloween parties this year."
2. "I see there're several of them that seem to be superhero themed."
3. "I've never been big on costume parties and such, but that might be kind of fun to go to a superhero themed party once."
4. "If I did, it'd probably have to be as Green Arrow. I think I could actually pull off a reasonable GA costume."
5. "Wouldn't that be really neat if I had a girlfriend who could go as Black Canary?"

Man, I must be having a rough week already. Not only am I thinking of "couples costuming", but I go right to the fishnet motif on top of it? I'm not even that much of a fishnet-appreciating type of guy!

Don't get me wrong! I do enjoy the old-school Black Canary costume, and especially when a woman can fill it out even reasonably well. And I don't know that I'd embarrass myself if Green Arrow get-up either. But that is so NOT who I am, and I'm not really sure how my brain went down that path so quickly today.

I was talking with Mom last night, and she brought up the Charles Schulz biography from a week ago. She'd always liked Peanuts in part because she grew up with it. She remembered when it first began running in the local paper, and how wildly different it was from everything else she'd seen. So Mom was interested to see some of the things that went into the production of the strip.

But her one complaint was that now she knows too much. She still reads Peanuts every day, but for the past week since viewing the documentary, she's had difficulty reading the strip at face value. She can't help but see Sparky's first wife in Lucy now, and begins wondering at what must have been going on in his life when he wrote any given strip. Plok was thinking along these same lines last week as well.

For me, though, I'm quite interested in this type of thing. I realized back in college that if I have more knowledge about the actual creation of a piece of art, the more I can appreciate it. I've always been a big fan of the classic Warner Brothers cartoons, for example. But I enjoy them more after having spent some years digging through music archives to find the original songs modified and used throughout many of the toons. (In the case of Warner Brothers, in particular, I in fact became quite fond of Tchaikovsky after listening to his 1812 Overture in full.) Likewise, with comics, the more I understand what went into their creation, the more appreciation I have of them.

The trick, it seems to me, is in being able to distinguish from the creator(s), the creative process, and the final creation. It's easy to see when that does NOT occur in somebody's thought process; how many message boards are littered with blatantly derogatory comments aimed at creators whom the message writer has never met? How many people have sworn off John Byrne or Dave Sim because of some of their comments unrelated to their work? The work, regardless of the opinions of the individuals behind it, should stand on its own merits (or lack thereof). Whether or not Leonardo da Vinci was a homosexual -- regardless of your beliefs of the homosexuality in general -- has no real bearing on the artistic mastery with which he painted The Last Supper or Mona Lisa.

That said, though, studying da Vinci's life and/or his painting techniques can put his work into better focus. It might seem like something of a contradiction, but it goes back to separating the creator from the creation. As I sit down and read Peanuts (or any comparable work), I mentally go through the strip twice. First, I go through and read strictly on the basis of its own merits. Then I read through it again to appreciate the context in which it was created. While this may sound like double the work for a single comic strip, I've found that the second "reading" is in fact just replaying the strip in my head rather than a formalized and actual second reading.

In effect, the two readings provide two decidedly different types responses. One is more intuitive and emotional, and the other is more academic and intellectual. While they are not mutually exclusive, they do generally require some level of distinction. This lack of distinction winds up being a significant reason "flame wars" occur: when one party is not able to separate their emotional and intellectual responses. I saw this played out last night in a documentary on 9/11 -- where conspiracy theorists were trying to persuade relatives of the 9/11 victims to believe in the veracity of their conspiracy claims. Whether or not the conspiracy theorists were/are right on any accounts, the events of 9/11 are so emotionally charged, especially for relatives of the victims, that there's almost no chance they can listen to ANY argument on a strictly rationale level.

So, do I have a secret for making the distinction and/or separation needed for this type of thinking? Not at all. I think it just happens to be the way my mind is hardwired. I've always been able good at compartmentalizing information pretty readily. (Indeed, sometimes I'm too good at it, and it's gotten me into trouble from time to time!) I wouldn't necessarily advocate trying to readjust your whole mindset to think along those lines, but it might be an interesting experiment if you gave it a shot with something simple and familiar, like Peanuts. You never know; maybe you'll find that you get a deeper appreciation for something.