In my February 3 post about DC’s Final Crisis miniseries, I stated that I was effectively done with contemporary superhero comics. Unlike many of my fan brethren who’ve made similar announcements, however, I have stuck by my word. While there are a couple of exceptional series (Incredible Hercules, Agents of ATLAS) that I’ll eventually pick up in trade format, the number of titles I purchase on a monthly basis has dropped down to a whopping zero.

I’m at a point where my interest has ebbed so much that even morbid curiosity and a long-standing affection for the character couldn’t move me to check out a copy (legit, scanned, or otherwise) of last week’s pre-resurrection of Captain America fol-de-rol. I haven’t entirely shut myself out of the loop, however. I still give an apathetic flip-through of the latest copy of Previews when the wife brings it home and I can count on certain friends with more patience (or perhaps less sense) than I have to keep me informed about things such as “Blackest Night,” DC’s latest linewide sales stunt.

I thought the event had already come and gone, but it appears to have been held over in the editorial depot until the last tanker of Final Crisis scrapings rolled out of the yard.

The core concept behind the “story” stems from the rapid franchise expansion of the Green Lantern Corps, in which an entire spectrum of color-emotive ring bearers have been unleashed upon the DC Universe. There are now Blue Lanterns for “hope,” Red Lanterns for “hate,” and, of course, Black Lanterns for “death,” despite the fact that black is not a color, nor is death an emotion. (It’s amazing how someone could take such an elegantly simple conceit as “a worthy soul is given a magic wishing ring” and bury it under a mountain of banal gimmickry, but that’s comics for you.)

Making Black Lanterns the primary adversaries for this crossover means that the writers can take advantage of the sad tailings of the zombie fad and dust off various deceased characters as monstrous mockeries of life. The unholy legions of the undead promise to include not only fallen superhumans like Firestorm and Martian Manhunter, but folks like Thomas and Martha Wayne (a middle-aged undead doctor and socialite — SCARY!) and Jonathan Kent (FEAR HIS AGRICULTURAL HUSBANDRY SKILLS OF THE DAMNED!).

It’s not the fact that we’ve clearly passed into the “sad geeks with sad dreams at the high school lunchtable” school of comic book writing that depresses me. It’s that the writers involved almost certainly won’t exploit the concept in the manner which it truly deserves. I would break my moratorium to buy a comic where Superman uses his heat vision to incinerate a toothless cherubic swarm of vengeful SIDS victims, or one where Bwana Beast is torn to pieces by a horde of 19th Century frontierwomen who died in childbirth. The possibilties are endless!

While the direct (and rather cynical) inspiration for “Blackest Night” was most likely Marvel’s success in ruthlessly exploiting the success of its Marvel Zombies franchise, the Black Lanterns have more in common with Marvel’s Legion of the Unliving, a grouping of dead heroes and villains who vexed the Avengers on occasion. (The superhero genre’s revolving door to the afterlife, and the obsessive need to establish the illusion of continuity, make reading those old stories featuring the Legion a positive hoot — in hindsight, three-quarters of the roster must have been alien shapeshifting clones from alternate universes.)

The concept behind the Legion of the Unliving reached its sublime (and tasteful) apotheosis in a three-part story which ran in Avengers West Coast #98 through #100 (September to November, 1993). The demonic Satannish (that is, he’s not so much Satan, as “Satan-ish”) plucks a quartet of damned souls from the burning pit and sets them up as supervillans.

1990′s supervillains.Because Satannish doesn’t scrimp on the evil, kids.

BEHOLD THE LETHAL LEGION!  ZYLKON!  AXE OF VIOLENCE! (In a just world, that would be a hanging offense.) CYANA!  COLDSTEEL!

Lou Pearlman, you've done it again!

And in case you couldn’t tell whose souls Satannish used for his minions by the terrible likenessess, U.S. Agent’s gigantic head is happy to clarify things…

Why? Because Roy Thomas wrote it, that's why.

I remember one of Maura’s friends summarizing this story (in excessively painful detail) to me shortly after it hit the stands. His enthusiasm for it surpassed his enthusiasm for Watchmen. I made it a point not to interfere in Maura’s relationships with her friends when we started dating, but I did not conceal my joy when she finally cut this person loose.

Related posts:

  1. Sing it proud, sing it strong
  2. On death and sterile hybrids
  3. Growing Up 2600: Foggy with a chance of death