BrianWilly
Disciple of Whedon
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...I hope to Buffy that he was still doped up on unmentionable and possibly illegal drugs while he was writing this, because that's essentially the only way that a word of this makes a lick of sense.
While he doesn't quite approach Willingham's "How do you like them apples" response to Leslie in Batman, by gosh he's trying his darndest!
http://www.newsarama.com/general/Flogging/Flogging30.html
While he doesn't quite approach Willingham's "How do you like them apples" response to Leslie in Batman, by gosh he's trying his darndest!
http://www.newsarama.com/general/Flogging/Flogging30.html
Paul Jenkins said:FLOGGING A DEAD HORSE: WHILE YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS
by Paul Jenkins
(Newsarama Note: Like the new logo image? Yeah, after 30 columns, and Newsarama's still standing, despite Paul's claim his column would be the end of us, it was time for one that made sense. This one? "Paul vs. the Internet" by the ever-talented Chris Moreno, of Sidekick fame. Hey - the trade for Sidekick is coming out before too long, so keep an eye out for it, will you?)
Hello Chums!
Any of you still paying attention will remember that I had previously promised to submit your regular dose of Jenko-Merriment on roughly a bi-weekly basis. It has been roughly a month since my last column. Obviously those numbers, much like my yearly creative tax returns, do not add up.
I spent the first part of the month in Los Angeles, directing a series of short films with my partner in crime, Crazy Rob Prior. I spent much of the second half in a state of semi-consciousness after yet another major reconstructive knee surgery. Frankly, Im inclined to think the second half of the month made more sense than the first.
I will regale you with tales of Hollywood madness in a future <i>Flogging</i>. Suffice to say, I rubbed elbow with the stars to such an extent that I have rug burn. Im afraid both Jennifer Aniston and Angelina Jolie have fallen in love with me. And while I would like to talk about the Golden Globes, I feel I have already covered that subject in last months spot about the Jenkins Christmas party.
No, dear reader, you will have to wait for a little while for me to gather my thoughts, collect some exclusive photos from the shoot, and complete my therapy sessions.
In the meantime, I bring you a stubborn little spot I like to call
While You Were Unconscious
It was a strange week, dear chums.
My latest knee surgery was quite comprehensive, and the following few days were kind of rough. Those of you who have read past Floggings will know that we are up to knee surgery number six, which seems like a good number to end on, if you ask my opinion.
Pain pills do not agree with me. For example, I tend to think that being conscious is a fine and noble endeavor, while the little red pills are of the opinion that auditory and visual hallucinations should be the norm. The little white pills are even more stubbornly disagreeable they yell at me from across the room, and criticize my every move.
The week was hazy, to say the least: I remember my doctor asking me the square root of seventeen just moments before surgery, and everything following that is a blank. The surgery took roughly four and a half hours two hours to experimentally rebuild my errant LCL ligament, half an hour to pull out the meniscus, and another two hours to mug for snapshots with my unconscious body.
All in all, they put twenty-nine staples down the side of my leg. Let me assure you that the only thing more painful than the actual surgery is the removal of twenty-nine surgical staples.
I hope you had a great week you bunch of *****.
Anyway, where was I? Oh, yes barely conscious.
In this drug-addled state, I received a telephone call from Herr Oberleutnant Steppenfuehrer von Brady, politely inquiring as to when he could expect to see another episode of Flogging, as per our legally binding agreement.
Paul, he gently hissed in his clipped German accent, when can I expect to see another episode of Flogging, as per our legally binding agreement?
Oh, God my leg. It really hurts.
Yes, yes so when do I get the column?
Aughh are you an angel? I see dead people.
After a brief exchange, during which Herr Brady generously offered to garrote my entire family and urinate on their smoldering remains, I began to see things more clearly. As it turned out, a lot had been happening while I was unconscious. For one thing, Civil War: The Return had hit the stands. And boy people were pissed!
Now for those of you who don't read comics (pat yourself on the back you deserve it), The Return deals with the reappearance of a long-dead Marvel character named, coincidentally, Captain Marvel. The Good Captain had been Comically Dead for a number of years following a bout with cancer. Comically Dead is almost the same as Clinically Dead but with one major and very important difference: people who die in comics don't stay dead for very long.
Indeed, the world of comics is littered with arbitrary resurrections bordering on the miraculous. Spider-Mans lovely old Aunt May died many years ago, only for the general public to be informed that the person who actually kicked the bucket was, in fact, a genetically altered actress clone of the old dear. Suspend your disbelief, dear reader, for it gets worse. The Green Goblin has had more comebacks than John Travolta. Batman has been killed so many times that he has his very own mausoleum in the West Wing of Stately Wayne Manor. Hell, Ive written him twice and killed him twice that has to be some kind of record.
For those of you who have been pissing and moaning all week about the massive waste of time and money that is The Return, I would like to give you a brief insight into the major planning session behind it. The following is a transcript of the extensive telephone conversation between myself and Marvel Editor, Steve Wacker (formerly of DCs 52 series, now bolted to a desk in Tom Brevoorts Hazing wing of Marvel Entertainment).
Jenkins!
Wacker! Hows the leopard?
A lot less snippy since they fed him an intern. I need something from you. They want you to bring back Captain Marvel.
Who?
Captain Marvel. Hes dead. We want to bring him back because it is our sincere intention to alienate every single Marvel fan as part of a major promotional campaign leading into next summer. Can you write something horrible by Monday?
Okay. Send me reference for this guy. Was his death quick?
No. Slow and painful.
But you want a quickie resurrection?
Yeah. Thirteen pages. Tops.
No problem. Im your man.
Oh, and a Sentry story. Ten Pages. Dont think too hard its just the Sentry.
I wont.
Those of you who have professed your loathing for The Return and there are hundreds of thousands of you by your own estimate will take some small comfort in the fact that this comic was, by design, intended to insult you. I will admit though, that it came a quite a shock to wake from my pain-induced coma to the ****-storm of hatred aimed in my general direction.
I should have known to expect something like this. A few weeks ago I made the rookie mistake of speaking directly to fans via this esteemed website when I wrote in to explain a discrepancy in the solicitation for Civil War: Front Lines #11. To be honest, it was an apology for a mistake made in the solicitation copy, although it was described as an apology (in quote marks) by one fan. Four hundred and sixty venomous posts later, I was a beaten dog. I had not realized I was some loathed by so many of you. But I was unprepared for the fallout from The Return.
Apparently, some fans were expecting our thirteen-page resurrection story to more comprehensively cover the specifics of the Good Captains life, death, afterlife, resurrection, hopes, dreams, fears and hobbies. It gave me pause to consider what may have happened to other noble works of literature, given the 13-page constraint:
13-page Hamlet
Ghost: Whoo Hamlet avenge me.
Hamlet: Sorry, Dad don't have time.
Ophelia: SPLASH!
Laertes: Have at thee!
13-page War and Peace
BOOM! Rat-a-tat-a-tat!
We surrender!
13-page Watchmen
Im clinically insane!
So you are, Rorschach. And in response I have devised a cunning plan involving a scary monster.
Thats pretty clever.
As you can see, dear chums, its pretty easy once you get the hang of it. I was, however, quite unprepared for some of the comments aimed in my general direction by irate fans. A couple of you suggested I should be fired, while others suggested slow death by torture for my lack of reverence to this esteemed character. I had overnight become the Most Hated Man in Comics.
Now this is my first time as the Most Hated and I must say, I am enjoying my time immensely. Nigh Perfect has taken to answering our hate mail and death threats as I am busy planning a follow-up series: The Return of Uncle Ben. I want to thank those of you who called for me to be fired, as your lack of credibility as rational human beings has really helped me to solidify my position at Marvel.
One thing, though: isn't anyone upset that I killed Typeface?