Deadfool And The Cabinet Of Infinite Memory

Editor's note: this post was written in 2009

It always seemed to me that the most powerful fictional characters would not be determined by their strength, wealth, or intelligence – but rather, by their ability to realize they were fictional.

For what good is everything else if you are not aware of your own fictionality, of the true nature of your very existence?



In this sense, a character like Deadpool's exemplary physical durability is really just a metaphor for his enlightenment as to the fact that he is a fictional character. Fictional characters can be chopped up, burnt, exploded, decapitated, what have you – but they cannot truly die, as long as there is at least one person existing who can keep creating stories (official or otherwise) about them.


Deadpool represents the first card of the Tarot deck – techincally the first card, but not the card labelled "1." No, the first card, The Fool, is a "0." The Fool is off the grid. The grid being interpreted as Maya, as the delusional/fictional reality. Or: the grid as comic book grid, as a sequence of panels on the page.

Thus, Deadpool plays the part of Fool, but he just might be, due to his self-awareness, the most powerful character in the Marvel Universe.


Similarly, the entity known as Superboy/Superboy Prime/Superman Prime is by far one of the most powerful beings in the DC Universe (though Animal Man, by virtue of his close collaboration with Grant Morrison, comes in a close second, I think).

Of course, The Super Prime Entity is insane, which shows the inherent danger in this entire game. He took things too seriously. He devolved into insanity. Whereas Deadpool protects himself by insanity & foolishness being his initial starting point. The Super Prime Entity needs to know it all, hence his obsessive trolling of message boards, what have you (which would really drive anyone insane)...

...on the other hand, Wade Wilson, like any of the Fool/Trickster archetype – Heyoka, Coyote, Loki, Eshu, Bugs Bunny – seemingly knows nothing, and only is interested in jokes and tricks. Deadpool is an idiot – and yet he has achieved contact with the world outside the boundaries of the grid. Deadpool has achieved enlightenment but wears the cloak of insanity/foolishness in order to process it. Whereas the Super Prime Entity is a know-it-all douchebag with no sense of humor.

As an interesting side-note, the traditional colors of the Yoruban Fool/Trickster god Eshu are red and black, as is of course Deadpool's costume:

Now, you might have experienced a certain "tingle" at those moments in fiction when the character turns around and acknowledges you. There is the famous scene in Animal Man, of course, where Buddy Baker turns to the world outside the panel and freaks out, locking eyes with yours. Or how about when Ferris Bueller (another Fool/Trickster archetype) addresses you throughout the course of his movie? In these instances, something truly special is taking place – you and the fictional character are "having a moment." There is a real interface that takes place, if only for those few seconds of contact. Yes, just like in the A-Ha video.


It is not coincidence that the two comic book writers who have most explicitly discussed these matters in their work, Alan Moore and Grant Morrison, have both practiced magick. They are shamans using the tool of the comic book quite literally and purposefully as part of a mystic working stretching/expanding our conceptions of fiction & reality. They are not merely gently touching the invisible barrier between reader and read – they are like the Super Prime Entity smashing that last wall, "punching time."


The sequence of panels in my old blog banner used to bother me. If we read the three panels in the standard Western way, from left to right, it seems that "I" (Occasional Superheroine) start as as pencil drawing, get color and ink dropped in, and then become a photograph of a real person. Whereas the way it really happened, of course, is that it started with a photograph given to an artist, penciled, and then ink/color dropped in. Though ACTUALLY, it started with me (real me) taking the photograph, then photograph itself, then pencils, then color/ink, then scan/digitization.


But then again, even that woman in the photograph no longer quite exists. Her hair is different. She's older. Her thoughts have developed. A good number of her cells have died and been replaced. The photographs, her writings, her memories, and the memories of others are the only real touchstones that this particular version even existed at all. We can't go back and find this 2007 me, physically point to her, and use her as some sort of hard evidence for the fact that she actually existed. All we have are memories and various media.

It is said that to our subconscious, fantasy & reality look pretty much the same. That a dream vividly experienced registers in the subconscious the same as a "real" event. How does our brains, then, process the fictional? In the grand matrix of our minds, where are the adventures of Deadpool, the Super Primes, etc. stored, and how are they regarded? They are filed away with our memories of real life events. Memories and media, anecdotes and images, recollections and typed words transfered into thought – it's all in the same file cabinet.


All we have is This Moment. And if "this moment" happens to be you curling up with your favorite movie or comic book – in that pinpoint of a moment, it is all real. In that pinpoint of a moment, Ferris Bueller is really locking eyes with you and addressing you, playing the part of Heyokah, playing the part of the Fool, playing the part of Bugs Bunny, trying to make you understand not just the nature of his world but your own. And trying to do it with a degree of good humor, frosting it with sillyness and humor, so as for your tender minds not to be completely blown.

Of course, I'm probably full of shit.

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Who Is The Master Who Makes The Flash Run?

“They say I'm The Flash! If it only were true I could help them! Please make it come true God!”

I've decided to give this blog a bit of a refocus. There's a billion comic book blogs out there, and I feel if I can't contribute some original thoughts beyond "I like this, I hate that; look at some coming attractions," this is a complete waste of my and your time.

I am specifically interested in the way comic books reflect -- and sometimes shape -- culture and politics. I can take an esoteric step beyond that and say that I'm very interested in the way comics reflect, shape, and even seemingly "predict" the elements of our very reality.

I think that last sentence really is the litmus test as to whether you want to keep reading this site.

Obligatory image at this point:

Sometime around the start of the 1990s, comics became Self Aware, due in large part to Grant Morrison's run on "Animal Man." Such a "meta" approach had been teased for many decades -- often though we already had those cute "the creators meet their creations" storylines such as "The Day I Saved The Life Of The Flash" in 1974, where writer Cary Bates appeared as himself to help the Scarlet Speedster out:

"Who is the mystery man that controls every move of the Flash's life?"

That caption makes me think of when Robert Anton Wilson discusses this Buddhist question:

"Who is the master who makes the grass green?"

In both cases, that Master is ourselves (or, in the case of Cary Bates, the person who wrote the cover copy). These stories and heroes are not created, maintained, and presented in a vacuum; we -- and our world -- are always a part of it. And the color of grass is dependent on how our senses and brain interpret it. Everything is dependent on our perception. 

This is why I think some fans get really psychotic over changes to, or "wrong interpretations" of, their beloved characters; because in their perception, Batman or Spider-Man or whomever really is -- in some timeless, objective way -- the way they perceive it to be. And a challenge to their personal experience of this character -- a challenge to their personal reality, which they see as an objective reality -- is taken as an act of "blasphemy" or even war.

One of my theories is that comics=religion to some people, even to those -- and sometimes especially to those -- who consider themselves "free" from religious belief. That's grist for what will do doubt be a lively future post.

Bates really got the ball rolling on the whole "metafiction" idea in comics, but Morrison wove it into the very heart and soul of "Animal Man" -- and, by implication, into the entire DC Comics universe as well, leading to such myriad self-referential elements in their comics such as the DC memorabilia-themed diner in Kingdom Come, the Bat-Mite/Mxyzptlk one-shot "World's Funnest," and a large portion of the animated series "Batman: The Brave and the Bold." 

Welcome to the Cafe Nostalgia; you can check in any time you like, but you can never leave

But whereas Morrison was getting at larger questions regarding the nature of reality and the totemistic qualities of these very familiar heroes, the "meta fad" in comics which started in the late 1990s and sort of slouched through almost every aspect of The Aughts, was obsessed and entranced with Nostalgia. In fact, "ultimate fanboy" Bat-Mite -- whose two appearances on the "Brave and Bold" cartoon pushed the "meta" button almost to unwatchable lengths -- became sort of the patron saint not only of transgressing the Fourth Wall, but of this whole period in comic book history.

Bat-Mite's meta-fart

Constantly fixating on and rehashing your Sacred Cows and favorite "gods" can be quite decadent -- and I see the last decade or so's obsession with nostalgia in both the comics industry and comics fandom as being the direct result of the anticipation of massive change on the horizon. There was a sense like every aspect of the Beloved -- heroes, retro-cool, key scenes, landmark issues, primal moments of adolescent pleasure -- needed to be honored and embalmed in the most elaborate and exclusive of collector's sets of all time. You know, before the impeding cataclysm (bad economy, corporatization, the death-knell of the paper format, steadily dwindling audience as the result of insular marketing strategies) wiped them away from the active stage.

And whereas these meta stories by Bates and Morrison posited the comics creator as the master who made the grass green and The Flash red -- increasingly the Artist's sovereignty was getting pushed to the side, as the Ultra Fanboy (as personified with our dimension-hopping Bat-Mite) duked it out with  what was revealed to be the true Creator (in the Old Testament sense of the word): the Company.

From the ultra-meta "Action Comics" #9 (analysis of the issue here)

In the war between Fan and Company, what is the role of the Artist?

And further: in such an environment, what becomes of the comic book hero itself -- his or her soul, the essence of the character? (It is my belief that they, too, have lives and existences of their own)

These questions -- and their answers -- are key to Understanding Comics in the present period. 

Morrison: "It's only a comic."

Animal Man: "It's not! IT'S NOT ONLY A COMIC! IT'S MY LIFE!"

And as we understand the comics, we can expand our vision and see what it says about our culture, our  reality, and our future.

I expect that only a relative few will take this blog journey with me; but if you do, I assure you it will be worth your while. Or at least give you a few blips until the next series of blips.

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Is Barack Obama The Superman Of "Earth 23"? An Analysis Of Action Comics #9

Action Comics #9 was one of the most bizarre comics I've read in some time -- extremely meta, even for Grant Morrison. Having read it after recently finishing the Our Hero: Superman on Earth by Tom De Haven (Yale University Press), I recognized many similarities between the two, almost as if Morrison was specifically referencing the book. The issue, written by Morrison and Sholly Fisch, has a lot of (at times quite ambivalent) commentary regarding the present man in the White House (if you believe that the Superman of Earth 23 is indeed based on Barack Obama) -- though here I'm just going to focus mostly on the elements of the story that specifically reference Superman as as mythical/mystical entity.

The Origins Of "The Curse Of Superman"
We can link even the title of the main story, "The Curse Of Superman," with pages 184-185 of the De Haven book, where the author investigates if there is indeed a Curse of Superman (exact wording). While he notes that George Reeves and Christopher Reeve have both had "bad luck" (which is an understatement), the rest of the actors who played the Man of Steel seemed to be OK (though Dean Cain's illustrious career in sleazy TV movies is sort of on the fence, in my opinion).

Is the Clark Kent of the other alternate universe in Action Comics #9 -- the one who is horribly burned and presumably crippled for life -- referencing Chris Reeve? He utters, despite the pain, "The curse of Superman..." Unlike other Clark Kents, he seems to not be superhuman...his only power being to find a way to "tune into the sound vibrations of what had to be other universes," making "mind movies" of a "Superman brand." This is similar to what an actor tasked with portraying Superman might do.


But if, as De Haven has pointed out, there is no "Hollywood" Superman curse, where did it come from? He writes,

"No, the only verifiable Superman curse is the one that Jerry Siegel swore in April 1975 against Warner Communications, the Salkinds, and his old archenemy Jack Liebowitz.

And by God, Siegel actually cursed the movie! In Our Hero we read a portion of a press release the writer sent out in 1975: "I, Jerry Siegel, the co-originator of SUPERMAN, put a curse on the SUPERMAN movie." Now, any rational person would understand that there is no such thing as curses. But when you start to delve into the esoteric -- the way Morrison, author of the occult treatise "Pop Magic!", has done extensively -- you take a slightly different viewpoint on such matters.

Overcorp and "The Superman Brand"
And indeed, we find out in Action Comics #9 the origin of the Curse of Superman -- a thinly-disguised metaphor for Siegel's sale of Superman. This is pretty heavy-handed stuff, with the wicked "Overcorp" strong-arming Kent and his "co-creators" Jimmy Olsen and Lois Lane into a crooked contract. The company's symbol is vaguely reminiscent of both the old DC "swoosh" and the new "peel," and, more shockingly, the Overcorp logo itself is done in the familiar Watchmen font and yellow color (particularly striking when you consider the Before Watchmen ad spread on the very next page)! It can even be said that the head of Overcorp bears a resemblance to Siegel "arch enemy" Liebowitz himself.

This ain't subtle, folks, especially coupled with dialogue like (cue evil eyes) "That's it. The dotted line. You won't regret this."

What happens next? Overcorp...

"...had 500 experts lined up. thinking in harmony to streamline the Superman brand for cross-spectrum, wide platform appeal.  

They built a violent, troubled, faceless anti-hero, concealing a tragic secret life, a global marketing icon.  

Everybody wears its brand. 

It makes people feel part of something big and new and cool. 

Superman helps them forget the reality of their drab, obedient, lonely lives."

Now, thanks to selling Superman to Overcorp, the people live in a fascist society, the hero's logo twisted into something almost resembling a swastika. Superman is mass-merchandised, and Kent's original intention to "change lives and inspire people" has gone horribly wrong.

Superman As Tulpa Gone Wrong

This Kent figure most probably represents Jerry Siegel as well, with Jimmy (who is also burnt and presumed dead in the story) being his co-creator Joe Shuster -- and Lois being perhaps Siegel's wife, who carried on legal procedures regarding the Superman copyright after his passing. Lois is the only one of the trio to survive intact (albeit missing an eye -- one-eyed symbolism being important, though I won't go through that High Weirdness in this post), and she is left to fight for the "cause."

And what is the Cause? There's an evil robotic Superman monster on the loose, trying to kill the "creators" of the original Superman. In one of the strangest scenes in the issue, Overcorp Superman graphically kills the tiny Superman of a world inhabited by costumed "super-babies"(!) No, not the Younglings too!

According to Action Comics #9, Kent, Lois and Jimmy created the Superman using their thoughts to make a thoughtform, or "tulpa." De Haven also references Superman-as-tulpa, referencing the opinion of former DC writer Alvin Schwartz in his 1997 book An Unlikely Prophet. Schwartz believed that Superman was a tulpa, literally created by the thoughts and energy behind the many contributors to his mythos.

"No More Heroes"
Now that Overcorp/The Corporation has taken control of the Superman tulpa, he has become evil -- embodied by the deadly robotic "Uber-Superman". And while the Superman of Earth 23 that Lois has sought help from is deemed "Superman done right" by her, it is the "God-Slaying," myth-slaying Lex Luthor who delivers the crucial injuries to the creature (shooting into his eye and also directly through his Overcorp symbol). Lex says he hates Superman/President Calvin Ellis not because of the color of his skin, but because he hates people elevated to the status of "gods" based on legend and the manipulation of Myth and Symbol. He hates all heroes. He is the best candidate to wipe the evil Uber-Superman out because his heart is closed to the charms of superheroes.

Luthor thinks the "raw essence" of Superman is a "smug fascist bully." De Haven concludes at the end of Our Hero this about Superman: "As with athletes and artists, there has always been a selfish, even a self-serving quality to Superman, to Superman's ego." At the very final conclusion of that analysis of Superman in pop-culture, the author points out that Superman ultimately does good not due to any self-sacrifice on his part, but because it's fun for him. Not very encouraging, and neither are Superman/President Ellis's actions at the end of the back-up story, where he cavalierly manipulates his position and his abilities to go beyond the letter of the law -- for good, of course.

There is a deep pessimism about heroes in Action Comics #9, and it almost feels as if Morrison might be taking the side of the fanatic Luthor character (who, in his wide-eyed rantings, could stand in for any number of current conspiracy theory gurus). Maybe unleashing heroes/tulpas upon the world is too dangerous. They can fall into the wrong hands. They can get dazzled by their own abilities and corrupted. By assigning the "magic" number 23 to this particular Earth, the writer is signaling that there is something really important here for us to read, something "key." 23 is the number representing synchronicity, and Morrison is synchronizing it all -- the upcoming election, the latest motions in the Siegel lawsuit against DC, perhaps even the New 52 and De Haven's own book.

Obama As Superman As Symbol
And while Morrison seems to be solidly in Siegel's court, his support of President Ellis/Obama seems to be another matter entirely. Like many conspiracy theorists claim about Obama (and Morrison regularly borrows wholesale from these guys), it supposedly isn't a race thing for "God-Slayer" Luthor about the President...it's a hatred for the Symbol and Mythology. Through photo opps and press conference quips, Obama has linked himself to the Superman character. The famous painting by Alex Ross depicting Obama in a Superman-like pose (which looks nearly identical to the cover to Action Comics #9) also has solidified this connection in the mind of the public.

So what exactly is this issue saying about the president? Why does Fisch's back-up story basically reiterate and validate the Birther argument...coming not from crazy Luthor but Superman's friend Nubia? Why does President Ellis have a fleet of sinister-looking robot doubles controlled by Brainiac (!) -- especially in light of the fact that when the Superman tulpa became evil, he too took on the form of a robot? This isn't that issue of Spider-Man with the smiling president on the cover...this is something completely different. I could sit here all day and give specific examples of what conspiracy theorist ideas Morrison is referencing all through this issue regarding our President. I could also base an entire research paper on just this one issue -- imagine what might happen when Action Comics #10 comes out!

But as weird as the content of this issue is, the weirdest thing about Action Comics #9 is this: DC Comics actually printed it. Is this the manifestation of what Morrison describes as covertly destabilizing the corporate system by working at cross-purposes within it? Or does the publisher score the final point in this metaphysical game of leap-frog by publishing the "destabilizing" element -- literally owning the story, and reaping the benefits of publicity?

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Grant Morrison: Can He Serve Two Masters?

"Grant Morrison, I Am Disappoint"

Alex Zalben at MTV Geek has made the case far better than I could about what was so depressingly disconcerting about this recent Grant Morrison interview in Playboy:

The concern here is that he’s slipping more and more into predictable behavior, relying on looks at the past, rather than moving comics into the future. Sure, it’s a tough battle, given you’re on the losing side: fans and companies complain they don’t want change, so why should you go out on a limb to provide it? But really, the first superheroes weren’t created based on expectations, they were created as a way of inspiring the world outside comics to be better than itself. And the world did change... So can’t superhero comics change with it?

We used to look to Grant Morrison, for better or worse, to provide that change, and to be the guy who was mostly misunderstood in his own lifetime. It’s a thankless job, but for years, he took the position and embraced it. Ironically? We don’t want him to go changing on us now.

The op-ed goes on further to speculate if Morrison isn't just burnt-out after working on so many mainstream projects and facing the wrath of fans. The sort of "if this is what you want Fanboys, well let me be the first to stick the funnel down your throat and force that yummy-yum-yum gravy down." Behind every cynic beats the muffled, cholesterol-daubed heart of a former idealist, etc. The similarity of Morrison's commentary on the "essence" of these characters and that of Frederic Wertham is in particular quite stunning; I guess it all depends on the messenger, huh?

 What A Drag It Is Getting Old

This seems to happen quite a bit to many of my idols as they age. For example, I was a big Dennis Miller fan back in the day, and he has become quite conservative since then. Frank Miller, too. It makes me wonder if it isn't just an unavoidable consequence of aging -- not only aging, but aging and still trying to not go completely insane and bankrupt as the result of being in the middle of this stuff for 20, 30, 40 years. Certainly people like Hunter S. Thompson seemed to retain more of their anarchist, anti-establishment edge as they got older, but at least he had an extensive gun collection to blow off steam (among other things).

But what of Grant Morrison, spending such a long time working for the comics mainstream? Certainly, I assume he received more free rein to do what he wanted with his characters than say Joe Fill-In -- but working on mainstream comics with key branded characters will inevitably involve compromise, even for someone of his stature. How long can you balance your genius with the necessities of such work? Can you successfully do so? What is the trade-off?

The Universal And Eternal Dilemma: Simon Magus Vs. John The Baptist
This is an universal and eternal dilemma (reference Matthew 6:24) that entails sacrifice any way you look at it. Morrison gets to be Mr. Cool in Playboy, impeccably groomed and the essence of chic; in contrast, Alan Moore looks shaggy, baggy-eyed and somewhat fanatic in various interviews, the Wronged Man. Simon Magus versus John the Baptist in his animal skins. Is it better to metaphorically sacrifice these characters we've loved so much on the altar in a flourish of dismissive cynicism, or martyr ourselves for these creations rather than see them besmirched or commercialized?

Is the key that Morrison never created Batman, Wonder Woman, and the like? Is it the co-opting of one's own creations that eventually drives the creator insane? Whereas Morrison is writing about entities that have seen life as cake-toppers and inflatable bop-bags as well as comic books? So at the end of the day, Morrison can just say, "Well, he was a f**king cake-topper anyway. Lego. Bop-bag. Camp icon." At the end of the day, he can just claim a higher level of Cool, by presenting the very act of making mainstream comics as a conscious, ironic act, like painting soup-cans. Hence referring to characters like Batman and Wonder Woman as nothing more than what Wertham saw in them over 60 years ago, as nothing more than the Pow! Sock! camp icons from the 1960s.

Batman and Wonder Woman: More Than Just Lasso n' Leather Freaks?
Why not discuss the role of tragedy and childhood trauma in the psychological make-up of Bruce Wayne, as a topic at the heart of Batman that goes beyond the same tired Freudian/Werthamian/Mr. Roperian speculation as to whether or not he wanted to have sex with his underage ward? Why not acknowledge the role Wonder Woman played as a feminist icon in the 1970s, discussing how she evolved as a symbol? To acknowledge something deeper to these characters -- something deeper that might have a strong impact for positive change and self-reflection on the countless readers who have read their tales -- to acknowledge that, and to then have to deal with the mainstream System, comics as Product, that's all too much. That's too painful. Then he would have to also acknowledge The Universal And Eternal Dilemma.

But the other side of the coin is that if you're going to buck the system, say "F U" to the mainstream, and advocate tons of change -- especially in such a tiny industry as comic-making -- you will not only face a tremendous amount of nerd rage but limited job opportunities as well. If you are relatively lucky like Mr. Alan Moore, you have already built a substantial following based on your previous mainstream work, possess a prolific amount of creator-owned work to publish, and have enough various naturally-derived substances to kill the pain. Some of us would only be left with the substances, unfortunately, and the problem as to how to pay for them on a regular basis.

Better Living Through Magick?
I think Grant Morrison doesn't need the Mainstream. If I had to guess, he has already started to plant stakes in that Utopian Creator-Owned fallow field of untapped potential I've heard so much about. He has also spoken in the past of the rather anarchical practice of planting magickal sigils deep within his work as a way to counteract -- or transform --The System:

For every McDonald's you blow up, "they" will build two. Instead of slapping a wad of Semtex between the Happy Meals and the plastic tray, work your way up through the ranks, take over the board of  Directors and turn the company into an international laughing stock. You will learn agreat deal about magic on the way. Then move on to take our Disney, Nintendo, anyone you fancy.

But does this really work, or is it merely wishful thinking? Is it too easy to get seduced on the way to your Grand Trickster Play? Can you really "game" The System -- via magick or otherwise? If corporate logos and brands are as powerful as Morrison claims they are...is it not possible that they can work the other way, bewitching and bedazzling you without you even realizing it? Is the proper method to embrace the Brand, the System, in order to shape it -- or, like Moore, banish it completely from your line of sight and retreat into the wilderness?

And the final question is, does any of this even matter at all? Why waste our time defending the honor of imaginary creatures? Unless you believe, maybe, that these Bop Bags and Bondage Queens are really Gods.

Happy May Day.

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