Disclaimer: Article is mostly satirical. Mostly.
Look, okay… You see- aww man. This is-this is painful for me to admit, but I don’t really understand comic books, like, at all. You’ve got these thin, cheap books, right? They come in these little plastic bags, right? The kind that tear or scratches if you blow or even breathe on them the wrong way. So, what I understand is, you have to buy hundreds and thousands of these little books, made from the stuff that is slightly higher grade than toilet paper and just stapled together with three or four measly staples, and you are supposed to keep them all- every single one of them- in such an immaculate condition akin to where you could give the books to NASA and they would send them to Mars! If you collect comics, God forbid you ever touch one! *Gasp!* “You mean to tell me you opened your X-Boy #129, Death of X-Boy and First Appearance of Dr. Apologist, from its vacuum sealed capsule and read it for three minutes? THE HORROR! It’s only worth $4.75 now, instead of the $300 it would have gone for!” Isn’t the point of a book to be read?
What it comes down to is that I like comic books, but I don’t like to collect every single issue of a comic book. I love the stories. Man, once I find a storyline or character that I like, I will definitely buy the books about that character. Take The Joker for example, I love The Joker for reasons that I can’t really explain, and when I think about why I scare myself a little bit, but that’s neither here nor there. I love The Joker because he’s a great, deep character, therefore, I will buy comics with him in them, love them and be the most avid collector when it comes to The Joker. The problem is, no other form of media makes you feel as bad about reading as comic books do. I have giant, sausage fingers and the nimble motion of a tank. I can barely get the books out of the bag in one piece, let alone without scratching it. I smudge the ink when I turn pages, I make holes in the back from holding them too tight and I bend and contort the pages just to make it stay flat so I can read the near microscopic print some of them have. I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve even had to use a magnifying glass at times. All this, to read a story that very often doesn’t seem to be done in that issue and to wind up with the book itself looking like its had war crimes committed against it. Just give me a solid book! I know I should just not care and just read the darn things, but I feel better about accidentally abusing books that can at least put up a little bit of a fight. Even at my most careful, damage will be done. It’s not like I can’t wait for a hard or softback collection to come out, but that would take time and I have no control when it comes to books. So, I wind up getting the single issues, reading them, loving them to death, and then, since I feel guilty about how much I’ve abused them, I feel the need to get fresh copies of the books that I already own. It’s a viscous cycle that I absolutely love to hate because I don’t need six copies of the same book,no one does, but boy is it tempting to try.
However, what I really don’t understand is the people that seemingly buy every single comic series ever made, either from enjoyment or for resale purposes. The dang things are expensive, and while I’m not one to complain about the prices of a good story and art, I’ve seen people spend literal thousands of dollars on them each and every week. And while some of those people seem really precise and focused on one or two characters, like I am, the majority of them just seem to sweep up randomly just to resell them. Where do these people get the time and money to do that? I spend about $100 in the comic shop, I’m done for at least a month, at least! People take this stuff and throw money at it like it’s the stock exchange. I just don’t have that mentality. When I pay for something, it’s because I want it. I don’t expect anything really in return but my own enjoyment. Of course, there is a part of me that longs for my taste to inexplicably stumble upon the next holy grail of comic books, but that probably will never happen. In fact, it appears to work in the opposite direction. Whenever I stumble upon something I truly love, it is the holy grail and costs me an arm and a leg.
Plus, just because my mind has the ability to comprehend, understand and inhabit nearly an infinite number of main universes, parallel universes and alternate universes at the same time doesn’t mean that it has the time or energy to do so all at once. Comic books are notorious for their often bizarre and in-depth narratives, which I adore and admire, but I’m convinced that some of the lore of comic book plot lines could give collegiate scholars and researchers a run for their money. So many shifting variables, retcons, deaths, rebirths, timeline collisions and cosmic encounters that you’ll need supplements for the supplemental material just to get the full picture. You won’t find me having an elaborate, all encompassing collection not because I don’t care about the stories, I just can’t afford to care, both financially and emotionally, about everything! I love you X-Men, Avengers, Justice League and the rest, but I can only go crazy over a few things at a given point. The fact that I choose to go crazy over The Clown Prince of Crime says more about me than it does about you.
Essentially, comic books, it’s not you, it’s me; except for the fact that you drive me crazy, you cheap, expensive, manipulative, lovely little vice you. Now, let’s tear up another issue….
Calm and Cultured 