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Lovers in a Dangerous Time

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    mekdinosaur | Male | 53 years old | Port Moody, BC. Canada

Born in Vancouver, BC Canada...and after living in a lot of different places since then....has finally returned home.

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Lovers in a Dangerous Time

4144 views • Jan 31, '16 • (0) Comments

"Never a Breath You Can Afford to Waste"


My personal life is very complicated. I routinely invite strangeness and danger into my company as easily as I would an old friend. This, I do willingly; not because I’m some naïve idiot (or so I tell myself), but because I know this life is the only one that I’ve got, and all I want to do is experience the absolute fullness of it. I want to feel things and smell the air and cry the blues and rage against machines. I have nothing to lose. Why stop at one world, when there is a multiverse out there, ready to be explored? This is a life worth living to whatever end my particular person with a difficult disposition may handle. I’m not all about cliff-diving or white water rafting or any of that thrill-seeking nonsense. There is a particular need within me to challenge human possibilities. I want to shake the status quo, to question the fortitude of bridges, test infrastructural mainstays, and hopefully be able to leave this world a better place after doing so. At times, I feel this endeavor is more perilous and exhilarating than any sort of Everest climb. But, I don’t rebel for the sake of attention or acclaim. There is always honor and reputation to be considered when contemplating any act of dissonance. You have to be cognizant of the need for bridges as a way for future opportunity when you decide whether to reinforce them or raze them to the ground.

Some people have a moral code, a book of legends or conventional wisdom to help them through life. I have a big stack of old comic book stories as my guide. I have tales of heroism and tragedy to consult along my path. This may sound strange to some, but I think these stories are the new myths, such as those of the gods and kings of old. Contemporary superheroes are the natural extension of the age old tales from Greece and Rome. Comics have been allowed to occupy this peculiar space in our culture where it has been afforded some free reign as long as it maintains a certain veneer of “safe-content” to the masses. They are supposed to be childish or simplistic, but we fans know better than that. Comics are the gateway to exploring social dynamics, moral complexities, cerebral expansion and the like. Stories told outside of the “mainstream” or socially accepted media are often under the radar of scrutiny, so the writer is able to present scenarios that are often as brutally truthful as they are wildly outlandish. If my mother only knew the sort of tales infecting my little mind at age thirteen, she would have surely thrown them all into the trash. Thankfully, she never did get her meddling mitts on my stash.

Comics speak to my personal sensibilities. They engage my mind and thrill my senses. They show me things that no other media has ever been close to accomplishing. Sometimes I worry that comic books have gotten too much attention lately and that conventional norms have affected the industry in detrimental ways. I also remember back when comics were considered “kid-stuff” and no adult material within them was allowed. There have been pornographic comics, “mature” comics, sophisticated suspenseful comics and the like in the years since the Seduction of the Innocent days: all skirting the line between tasteful and shameful material. Comic books used to be, above all: daring. I don’t see much of the advent guard anymore. I don’t see many envelopes pushed much. This worries me. My whole life: comics have provided me a thrill of exploring the unknown and pushing the limits of my own personal moral code. Lately, I don’t feel so challenged anymore.

I’ve been called a rebel or a contrarian over the years, and I’ve worn the terms as a badge of honor as much as I’ve been dismissive of them. I’ve been both a champion to the weak and a challenger of the uncouth. But, I’ve also been plenty wrong myself. There have been misguided acts and self-righteous posturing when it was uncalled for. Pretentious even, perhaps. I am human. I believe that my heart is in the right place. But, I’m sure, I’ve made as many mistakes and burnt as many people as any four-color villain in my time. There have been certain points in my life where I’ve had to take an ego check. Other moments, I stood firm against a cause that I felt was dead wrong, only to be schooled for it later. It can be a dangerous business just getting up in the morning. To this end, I feel some affinity for the less than perfect characters in superhero comics. Anti-heroes such as Punisher, Ghost Rider or the Spectre share an emotional core that is steadfast in their resolve for justice, and yet questionable in their execution. Characters like Spiderman, Hawkeye or Ant-man, who are just regular guys simply trying to make a difference in the realm of gods, speak to my sense of futility when measuring up against big business or established governments. Then, there are guys like Captain America or Superman who are just so pure of heart you can’t help but look up to them as examples for how best to conduct oneself.

I love superhero comics because they are full of dangerous, passionate characters who push themselves to the limit in order to stave off tyranny and the selfish deeds of evil men. They provide a moral compass even when the rules of engagement get stretched to bizarre limits. They help to remind myself of what is important in life as I reach out to embrace another one of my own personal adventures. When I walk into a comic book store and see a dozen or so other fans milling around, I wonder if they also feel the same joy and admiration as I do when peeling open a fresh new adventure. Do they carry the stories in their hearts like I do? Or is it just purely entertainment for them? A chance to see if the Thing is once more able survive impossible odds to defeat the Hulk? Or is it merely the vicarious thrill of watching Wolverine hack and slash his way through yet another ambiguous predicament? I don’t linger too long on these musings. I share a kinship with all comic book fans, regardless of their reasoning for being there. In my own heart, I always know why I continue to read and follow the superhuman adventures of spandex clad heroes. Deep inside, I know I can always draw from all those hours of reading enjoyment to somehow pull a fragment of hope or resolve from these heroes when dealing with the challenges I face each day. Superheroes give me hope…and at the end of the day, no matter what level of danger you face in any particular set of twenty-four hours: hope is really all you need to see you through.

I hope for better times ahead: both for the comic fans and the industry itself. I sometimes worry if the best days are behind us. But, I still believe, in the pure heart of all comic creators and fans: lies a restless spirit, willing to plumb the depths of human adventure. This bit marks my first anniversary blogging on Comic Book Realm. I started writing about comics as a way to distract myself from some particularly challenging issues I was personally dealing with a year ago. Although things have gotten a little smoother for me recently, I will continue to try to post here regularly. I hope there are at least a few readers who have enjoyed the content. I appreciate this forum that has allowed me to rant and rave over the past year. I know that I will continue to allow strange and wonderful things into my life, and sometimes I will show off my weird self to others. I have to thank comic books in part for how I turned out. Even though things can get overwhelming at times, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve had first-hand experience dealing with some of the bad that populates this world, but I’ve also seen some amazing things. Regardless of how life unfolds, I’ll keep on embracing the strange while kickin the darkness until it bleeds daylight.

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