I
thought this chapter was simple and obvious as I made my outline, but when
I
came to expand this chapter it was like taking a tiger by the tail. It seems a
simple proposition; compare the ephemeral with the optimal. Can work done
quickly and on a deadline on products sold for small but ready money, compare
to careful design work and highest standards of production quality for a high
priced object. What can be understood in contrasting these two propositions?
[[[*As
I began making outlines and drawing equations to plan my expansion of this
thought I was soon shocked at its apparent complexity. Contrasting the aspects
of art and design, cost and profits, employment and production, value and
disposability devolved into untamed chaos. The ‘working bar’ in my brain froze.
I could make no progress in my perception of the problem, and nothing could
move forward. At the library I got books
about complexity and chaos theory, but really they pointed away from the
direction my instincts told me the answer lays. It is not a mystery that can
only be perceived through mathematical precision. What I lacked was a vehicle
to drive my perception into my reader’s understanding.
So
I worked half-heartedly at later chapters, other projects, took walks and naps,
etc., always coming back to the problem. As weeks turned to months my brain was
working, working, working. Late one
night I was looking at a recently comic book message board I had regularly
read; I found a long new thread about a recent interview given by Comic book
writer impresario Alan Moore. As is common on such occasions many persons
posted their (mostly negative) opinions of Moore’s reclusive nature and also
numerous posts I perceived as mischaracterizations of Moore’s remarks. There
were many of these posts and I began answering them one by one, perhaps
careless in not reading them all through and making one cogent post addressing
them all. However the result of my focusing on one point after another was to
reply incompletely or with some antagonism to each members post, and they in
turn responded to my isolated answer to their own post without regard to the
string of my posts made in response to others. After a couple of hours I
realized my manic state. I took a fourfold dose of my antipsychotic before
retiring. A window of perception opened in my dreamstate in the days that
followed; I had the analogy that I had sought for so long. Ironically she was staring me in the face in the graphic I chose to illustrate this chapter many months ago (see above).]]]
The
Thing That Made Us So Happy, Came To Make Us Cry
Reading
comic books in my youth was a hit or miss proposition. Comic books were a
sideline wherever they were sold. A rack or two at newsstands, candy stores,
bus and train stations etc. The distributor dropped off new bundles each week,
and picked up the unsold issues that had gone past their date. Here today, gone
tomorrow. Comic books were a side line wherever they were sold. A rack or two
at newsstands, candy stores, bus and train stations. All places that loads of
people walked by every day, and impulse purchases made new readers on a regular
basis; the pulse of the industry. Getting
each issue of any title was no small feat, and those of us who cared had to
work hard, sweet talk the clerks, be there on the magic day and at the right
time, without making the fatal mistake of getting underfoot. The thing about
back issues was that they were hardly ever to be found. Ask at the stores what
happens to the old comics and receive only shrugs and blank stares. Coverless
copies of older issues turned up in drugstores bagged up three for 15 cents.
Your friends had their own stashes, and maybe an older brother’s treasures, but
trading was often a grueling ordeal: and it was often hard to know if you came
out on top or not.
A
chain of events began to happen in the 1960s. Kids like me were not content to
go issue to issue in our consumption of our comic books. We hungered for the
back issues we had missed or that had come out before our time. Reprint titles
began to come out regularly from Marvel and DC, wetting our appetites for the
mythos created by those two universes. Fueled by Stan the Man’s footnotes referring
us back to past issues we longed to possess. Certainly this was a sales gimmick
to Stan Lee, who was a veteran of two decades of ephemeral storytelling. Keep
the action moving, make it exciting and leave them wanting more. The success of
Stan’s formula and the talents of Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, Don Heck and the
rest; left to concoct their stories with relative freedom, was taken to a
newer, more satisfying level. With the advent of young talent who loved the
medium and who had ideas of elevating it to more satisfying adult levels, and
that would kick off a chain of changes.
Beginning
with Roy Thomas, the Marvel phenomenon slowly began to evolve from iconic
heroes in simple yet manic adventures to more considered storytelling, with
ever more careful continuity that readers were quick and loud to demand to be
upheld. This was indeed a heady time to be reading comic books. Although a
steady stream of reprints were and are still published to the present day,
there was still a great hunger to own the original printings of these great old
comic books. Many used book stores everywhere resold the volume of issues many
still read and discarded for whatever reasons. Used comics were commonly bought
at such stores for a penny or two and resold for a nickel, largely regardless
of condition or content. The combination of constructing more complex and
interesting comic book stories and the rise of dedicated comic book stores came
to trigger the law of unintended consequences; and the nature of comic book
storytelling and comic book distribution changed forever over the decade of the
1970s. In the process these lead to shattering changes in creator psychology
and their employment.
Aside
from some eclectic news sellers who maintained a stock of back issues, proper
comic book shops only began to pop up in the early 1970s. As prices and grading
began to evolve, there came to be a basis for earning substantial profits from
selling back issues that could pay the bills and make profits that then could
not be practically earned selling only new comics. Cover prices were slowly
climbing, but were still only 20 cents, and reached only a dollar by the end of
the decade. Shop owners would make large orders with their local distributor,
but because these accepted returns the retailer could only realize a few cents
off of each comic book sold. The creation of the direct market for sales to
comic shops on a nonreturnable basis, but for a large increase in profit per
unit sold was a boon to comic book retailers, and locations proliferated
throughout the next 15 years or so. There were dozens of direct distributors
across the country by 1974, and typically comic book shops would buy from
several as well as their local newsstand distributor. Retailers would commonly
take books at newsstand terms and then also order the same books from direct
market distributors in optimistic numbers months before. Alas nearly
universally retailers over ordered expensive nonreturnable comics to a ruinous
degree, and predictably began to slip them into their returns to the newsstand
distributors. Of course these locals, working on a margin of pennies per unit
soon realized that the comic shops were returning more comic books than they
had delivered. The results of this practice may be seen by the appearance of
color markings on the bottom edge of nearly all Bronze Age comic books
beginning roughly in early 1974. These are from distributors marking their
product with magic markers, striking colored line codes across comic books by
the box and bundle. Publishers recognized this issue and wanted to maintain
both of their streams of distribution, the broad based newsstand and more
profitable direct to comic shops. They
began experimenting with different markings, logos, covers, even different
prices on the same comic book issue. It was many years before UPC codes settled
the issue, but by that time newsstand distribution was in serious decline.
Waves
of collector speculation were common enough since the early 1960s, but it
became a more problematic issue when cash sales came to become more in the
nature of advanced orders of increasingly big numbers of copies of multiple
titles from sometimes very large numbers of individual customers. Even as they
ordered comic books sight unseen and months before they were published, and
with the best intentions of buying these gems and reselling them at a good
profit, as the cycle repeated week after week they soon had a large volume of
comics that cost perhaps more than they had planned to spend when they set out
to be speculators. Very often collector/speculators ordered more comic books
than they came to pay for, and every comic shop had many unsold books that they
were no less required to pay for, and right away if they wanted to receive the
next week’s books.
Of
course this is only a simplified illustration of distribution/retailer issues
of that time. The costs of everything from paper, press time, payroll, fuel and
other inflationary trends pushed the price of comic book issues ever upward. This
was seen as advantageous to comic book retail shops, in that it increased per
unit profit, which was generally a stable and reliable number. However the
increased cover prices were problematic for newsstand retailers; the price was
higher, but that generally reduced the impulse sales that made comic books
profitable, and shrinking profits squeezed comic books out of thousands of
valuable point of purchase newsstand locations each year. Local
newsstand distribution of comic books as it had existed for nearly forty years
was essentially finished by the early 1980s. Although remnants still exist to
this day, they are only narrow deals for limited distribution of certain
publishers and titles. The full line of any publisher can only really be
purchased if pre-ordered at a local comic shop (lcs) or online retailer.
The
key to prosperity for the comic book industry has always been tied to the
number of readers. It was the strength of many tens of thousands of point of
sale locations in places that people of all ages and interests saw on a regular
basis that sparked new interests in the heroes and reading their adventures.
All else flowed from this. As it has become necessary to enter a dedicated
comic book shop to even discover comic books for nearly two decades,
generations have grown up knowing only other media representations of comic
book character mythos from tv, film, games etc. While these do bring new
readers to the market, the nature and broad variety of comic books published
makes it difficult and expensive to immerse one’s self in comic books, which is
the main avenue of their steady interest.
Even
this contraction in the marketplace is not the worst thing that has happened to
the industry. There has always existed an inequity in the artistic creation of
content published in comic books. From the start a typical writer or artist who
became established and could get a steady volume of work could earn a good
living by great effort and hard labor. Commonly an artist might work 60-80
hours per week, or even more. Earning enough to raise a family, reach middle
class prosperity and perhaps some of the finer things in life. Many thought it
was a privilege to earn a living by their artistic talents, and even though
they retained no rights to their work, had no health care or retirement benefits
these were not really an issue to most creators up until the 1960s. Until then
comic books were a treadmill of production, publication, purchase, and discard,
then repeat. Aside for an occasional filler issue now and then reprint rights
were a small issue. Aside from some of DCs iconic heroes there was little
conversation about rights and ownership, the industry standard called ‘work
made for hire’ was pretty clearly accepted as creators cashed their paychecks.
However,
as the 1960s comic book boom progressed publishers found they could repackage
and reprint whole lines of stories very profitably, having paid for the
material years ago. Then ancillary products including fan club memorabilia,
posters, puzzles, big little books and an explosion of toys, dolls, trading
cards, clothing, food products like candy, cereals, snacks, articles in mass
market magazines and pro sports programs, paperback reprints and novelizations;
almost anything imaginable publishers were profiting from, but aside from a
small check for doing the graphics that were the whole attraction, the creators
were out of the loop. Most seasoned artists and writers drew back from
‘creating’ new characters for the big companies for fear that their work would
turn into a huge money maker for their employers.
Indeed,
apart from Jack Kirby, one can hardy point to an iconic hero created for Marvel
or DC Comics after 1970, just a lot of rehashed second stringers. So in lieu of
originality scripts became more ‘relevant’ and ‘adult.’ The fun and goofy one and done stories we
loved so much became less profitable as the lcs frequenting fans grew long in
the tooth and the influx of new readers diminished month to month. It is
helpful to recognize that for the most part the industry was still focused on
the business of printed comic books. By 1985 creators had won some limited
rights, the return of artwork, residual payments on issues with sales above a
certain level and reprint rights and even some level of ownership in the case
of popular and savvy negotiator. Although
Warner Communications was the corporate owner of DC Comics and all its
properties and characters at that time DC was left largely autonomous.
Multi-part stories and crossover ‘events’ began
to dominate the comic book landscape, and ‘concepts’ became the new currency.
Instead of creating new iconic heroes to sell more issues editors choose to
very loudly kill their old ones. They realized that no one blinked when Dick
Grayson moved on and Jason Todd became Robin, so from then on an iconic
character can be ‘killed,’ that is separated from its comic book continuity,
and replaced in another ‘great’ event story down the line, with no loss of a
costume to sell in some future movie, toy or game.
DC
Comics purchased a group of crappy characters published by Charlton Comics in
the 1960s and 1970s second and third rate comic books heroes by anyone’s
standards. Still they were in hand, and in the climate of the day they had the
virtue seeming new to many readers. As it happened, comic book impresario Alan
Moore made an unsolicited proposal to DC Editor Dick Giordano involving the
reimagining of an existing comic book universe and its heroes. In 1985 there
were a number of such properties floating around, and Moore felt that his brave
new world epic would resonate with readers if the shocking events he planned
happed to familiar characters. The idea of Alan Moore launching the return of
the Charlton heroes definitely was appealing as a circulation builder, and it
is real evidence that at least DC editors were thinking in terms of print comic
books and continuity when they demurred in letting Moore radically change
and/or kill their valuable new heroes. In light of the trends that became
popular only a few years later this was perhaps a poor decision, but it
indicates that the company was still thinking in terms of maintaining
continuity and selling periodicals. It became momentous in light of subsequent
events. Giordano suggested Moore move forward with the project using original
heroes created for the project. A problematic offer, both because Moore felt
the story would have less impact with new, untested heroes; and the natural
reluctance to create new properties he would not own and control.
Many
comic book readers do not appreciate the raw effort and hard labor that is
required to write and draw the best comic book stories. It is demanding toil
that too many relieve with formula, shortcuts and a good enough mentality that
readers can see clearly, groan and complain loudly about; but still continue to
buy over and over again. Alan Moore is not completely above these faults
himself at all times. Still he has proven himself capable of superior work on a
regular basis, and it seems he regards this recognition as a return for his
labor equivalent to the paycheck he received, at least in hindsight. It may be
folly for any creator to expect to receive much beyond financial compensation
for the use of their work in comic books up until this point. I believe Alan
Moore understood that there was something at stake for DC Comics at this time,
and this was the reason DC was willing to promise that the rights to their
creation would revert to Moore and Gibbons after the project was published and
collected, and then allowed to go out of print for a year, as was completely
the norm in the industry at that time.
Watchmen,
the 12 issue series would be a self-contained story exploring what it would be
like if superheroes really exist and had since the 1940s war years. It had a
beginning, a middle and a conclusion;
and Moore believed he had a contract that assured him the story and characters
Moore and Gibbons’ created could not be changed or added to without the
participation or permission of the creators. I can only speculate on Alan
Moore’s motives, but it seems that he was more concerned about the deal he
thought he was making in terms of future control of the property, and indeed
it’s eventual return to him and Gibbons the whole ownership of Watchmen; than
about the comic book he would create. Surely the pair commanded top rates on the
project and they labored to produce their best work to date, but it must be
recognized that Watchmen’s publication by DC Comics and the creators support by
employment and compensation while creating the book, and corporate promotion
and distribution of the comic book series and Warner’s clout in publishing,
promoting and distributing the trade far exceeded Moore’s possible creation of
and publication of the Watchman concept independently or by another publisher.
I believe Alan Moore was shrewd in casting a deal whereby he would create a comic
book and a group of new heroes that DC Comics would publish, thereby promoting
and adding considerable value too, that would in a few short years
contractually return to his own ownership. Little did Moore and Gibbons realize
that they were creating the book that would be acclaimed as the best comic book
ever published! Watchmen sold and sold more copies every year for the next 25
years, the bestselling graphic novel ever, and selling broadly to non lcs
customers who really don’t read comic books. Although DC Comics editors and
publisher anticipated a significant success in Watchmen, I do not think they
could foresee the turns its publication as a collected work would take, and the
direction it would lead the entire industry. Watchman’s influence and huge
continuing financial return finally awoke the Dragon. After earning such riches
from Moore’s creation it could only grasp for more. Before this time creation
held a direct benefit for the creator in terms of continued sales of a modest
product, comic books, in a volatile and uncertain market. The Dragon of
corporate ownership see selling mere object periodicals as unprofitable except
to breed iconic characters, heroes and mythos to be harvested and exploited in
other mediums for undreamed of profits.
This
consideration of the ephemeral and the optimal began as, in my mind, to be
illustrated with Apple Computers in contrast to other technological
alternatives. With the untimely death of Steve Jobs I felt I had to choose a
new analogy for my thought to be read without being branded iconoclastic by
much of the audience most likely to be receptive of my writing. I want to
preface these concluding remarks by stating my respect for Steve Jobs
personally and for his skill and talent. However I have always rather disliked
his vision of design dominance and creation and marketing iculture. Only a fool
perhaps would be annoyed with product after product that innovate so thoroughly
and are demonstrably so popular and useful to so many people. Clearly the
iphone, the ipad and itunes arguably place more useful functionality into Apple
customer’s hands than any products in history, but I really do fail to see how
this will play out positively for ipeople.
It
is certainly commonly seen as a great equalizer in society to have a universal
technology that serves its owner with endless streams of data of all
description constantly at her beck and call. Jumping into this technology must
seem imperative to every young person in the world. The
most disturbing aspect of iculture is the extent to which persons become driven
by the objects they have purchased. Their mobile devices broadcast their every
move and thought so that all their waking life is reduced to a marketing
opportunity. The music you buy, your searches on line for information, books, fashions
and vacation spots bake cookies that marketers are munching along the path to
earning a fortune mining data from you and your friends. Reading Privacy
Policies carefully reveals that the policy is you have no privacy; click:
accept. Apple’s iterms that you must accept allow them to own your online
existence with built in spyware that can even be hacked by anyone hot to give
it a try. In the past such assertions would seem paranoid surely, but now it is
plainly the truth, but still this is not what bothers me.
I
see Apple iculture as a promise of individually by way of strict conformity. I
can see many positive aspects to the technology and searching for new ways to
fit its functionality into our lives; but I see the optimal design paradigm as
inefficient although profitable for the richest corporation on Earth. I can’t
help thinking that perhaps somewhat crude in comparison, but more specifically
functional devices could be devised for persons who choose to decide their own
technological requirements. Devices of this nature could conceivably even be
manufactured domestically by people here who need a good job. God forbid the
government should ‘subsidize’ an industry here that has been written off as impossible
to bring back to our shores. How could our national pride stand that we
manufacture cheap functional goods that can undersell the top designed quality
products made in China?
It is nearly 33 years since Lowell George's amazing life winked out far from home and for some bad decisions. He was a wonderful artist who touched my young life deeply, and I mourn him still.
