I have recently been troubled by the goings on of the comic
book community. It seems like every day I go to my favorite websites or peruse
Twitter and I become inundated with rage filled comments, inflammatory columns
on controversial subjects, and generally a feeling of bubbling anger and
indignation from the comic book community at large. People seem angry at each
other, their books, and creators all at the same time. But why?
As I drifted off to sleep last night I was musing about
these conundrums. When I finally dozed off I was hopeful to forget about the
cares of the day. But my dreams were interrupted by large and calamitous
thunder. It sounded to me as if the world itself may tear asunder. I stood in
an empty field as energetic crackles swarmed the skies and filled my ears with
the low hum of the cosmos. Suddenly, the ground swelled before me and erupted
in a towering mountain of gleaming and polished stone! Higher and higher the peak rose until I was fairly
sure the top was somewhere off in infinity. What was this? Where was I? It was
then that I heard the distinct noise of something flying from the top of this
soaring peak. I gazed as off in the distance a silver speck began a rapid
descent to my level. It wasn’t long before I realized the speck was in the
shape of a surfboard and that a human figure stood on this alien device. Soon
the board hovered only a couple of feet away from me and its rider jumped down
to meet me. In front of me stood the King himself, Jack Kirby! He was wearing
something straight out of his New Gods comic book series, behind one ear was a
pencil, and in his mouth was one of signature cigars. I opened my mouth to
speak.
“Mr. Kirby! I’m a huge…”
“Huge fan, yeah, yeah. I know kid. I didn’t bring you here
to stroke my ego,” replied my greatest comic book hero.
“Where exactly is ‘here’ anyway?” I asked, the surreal
nature of my circumstance finally striking me.
“This old place? It’s just where Roz and I live. I guess you
could call it paradise or heaven. Me, I call it home.”
I rubbed my hand across the jutting stone. Sizzles of energy
bounced between my fingertips and the rock like little lightning bolts.
“But, again, my fancy mountain isn’t the reason I brought
you here. I hear you’re having some trouble with comic books. I thought, maybe
we could have a little chat. Maybe I can help.”
“Golly Mr. Kirby! You want to help me? I don’t know what to
say…”
“Well don’t canonize me a saint yet kid. It’s not just for
your benefit. I got a few messages I want you to take back.”
“This isn’t going to turn into some kind of ghost revenge
scheme on Stan Lee is it?”
“No, I got a different guy to do that smartass. Listen, you
got some paper or something you can write this on?”
“I don’t think so, I’m not sure I’m even corporeal at the
moment…”
“Fine, fine. Here”
