Originally published September 6, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1190
Last time, we presented Part 1 of Peter David and Bill Mumy’s unfilmed script for an episode of Space Cases. As we left the crew of the Christa, they were attempting to discover the source of a scene showing the ship’s (and presumably the crew’s) demise.
Originally published August 30, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1189
Gather round, kiddies—it’s another ripping installment of:
Useless Stories
As I write this, I’m in sunny Montreal, where Space Cases is being prepped for its second season (set to begin in October). In that spirit, I’ve decided to show you a script that was written for the first season but—for a variety of reasons—didn’t get used. Written by Space Cases co-creator Bill Mumy and me, it shows the crew of the Christa learning one of the oldest lessons around: that the saying “May you live in interesting times” is the deadliest curse in the universe.
Originally published August 23, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1188
A great personal tragedy had just struck at the household of Bill Mumy.
Mumy and I were up in his office, working on a script for Space Cases, when Bill’s 6-year-old son, Seth, appeared at the door. Tears were rolling down his face as he sobbed out the heartrending news, “George the Third is dead and Ming ate him!”
Bill was promptly consoling. I, of course, said the same thing that you doubtless said upon being presented with that declaration. Namely: “Huh?”
Newt Gingrich declared last night, when asked about his ex-wife’s recent interview, “I’m tired of the elite media protecting Barack Obama by attacking Republicans.”
Funny. He didn’t have any problem with the elite media dog-piling on Bill Clinton during the time that he, Gingrich, was involved with the impeachment.
PAD
The guy who walked into the showing of “The Artist” that Kath and I were attending, stood there for four minutes, and then asked in a loud voice, “Is this Mission Impossible?”
Well, it turns out there are people who are more oblivious than he was. I’m talking about the moviegoers who demanded their ticket money back because they went to see “The Artist” and were irate to discover it was a silent film.
No. I’m not kidding.
Perhaps any theater that has moviegoers wanting refunds for that reason should give them a complimentary DVD of “Clueless.”
PAD
(The following is a very cut-down version of what will be a much longer “But I Digress” in an upcoming issue of “Comic Buyer’s Guide.)
The denizens of the Internet are, for the most part, screaming foul and bloody murder and (of course) shouting for boycotts of any and all who are in support of SOPA and PIPA. Because when you want to show that you’re a firm advocate of free expression and unimpeded distribution of information, naturally the best way to do that is to try and financially punish and shun anyone who disagrees with you.
Now I don’t pretend to understand all the ramifications of SOPA. I’ve read a lot about it. Read position papers on both sides. I’m fairly convinced that, yes, SOPA goes too far in its current language. It should not be passed in its present form, and–if it does go forward–will likely be scaled down to something more manageable.
But oddly enough, I can’t find it within me to work up much outrage over it. I suppose I should. I’m a freedom of expression guy.
And yet, here’s what I keep coming back to…
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Originally published August 16, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1187
It was about six or seven years ago, when I was first probing the possibility that I might become a full-time writer.
It was not a decision that I was making lightly. After all, I had a secure “day job” at Marvel as the direct-sales manager. There was no particular reason to go anywhere—no reason except that writing the comics seemed to be developing into a more fulfilling job than selling them. And, if I became a freelance writer, it meant no more commuting, no more staying late at the office. I could spend more time with the kids. Yes, there seemed to be any number of practical reasons to try my hand at being a full-time writer.
Nevertheless, I had a great deal of trepidation.
No, I”m not talking about “The Devil Within.” I’m talking about the actual process of going TO movies thanks to audience cluelessness.
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Originally published August 9, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1186
Independence Day is one of those rare beasts. It’s a “Yet” film.
It’s the kind of movie where people don’t ask you if you’ve seen it, or if you plan to see it. They say, “Have you seen Independence Day yet?” Of if you’re simply asked, “Have you seen Independence Day,” the inevitable response is, “No, I haven’t seen it yet.”
But you will see it. It’s a given. It’s a mandate. It’s a fact of life. Death, taxes, and Independence Day.
Originally published August 2, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1185
Thank you:
As is the case, I suspect, with many of the writers presently working in the industry, there is a fanboy within me who’s always bubbling away just below the surface. And the point at which he really comes slopping over comes when I have the opportunity to work with artists who drew the comics I read when I was a fan.
GOP candidates insisted that no, no, they had nothing against gays, and were all for gay rights…as long as it didn’t entail actually giving them any. Santorum, as you might have surmised, encapsulated the hypocrisy with this nugget in last night’s debate:
“But just because you don’t agree with someone’s desire to change the law doesn’t mean you don’t like them or you hate them or you want to discriminate against them.”
Here’s the thing: people in opposition to gay rights are the ones desiring to change the law, and have done so. What else was DOMA (signed into law, to my eternal shame, by a Democrat) except institutionalizing discrimination? You want to defend marriage? Outlaw divorce. Or the Kardashians. But insisting that marriage can only be defined as a man and a woman? I’m sorry, I missed where in the Constitution that that’s anyone’s goddamn business, much less the government’s. I find it interesting that, for instance, defenders of the Second Amendment are quick to say that any infringement on their rights to buy an Uzi opens the door for the government to come in and confiscate all their guns. But nobody seems to wrap their noggins around the concept that allowing the government to dictate that people can’t marry someone of the same gender can easily be precedent for the government to dictate who can’t marry who based on psychological testing. Or who can’t have children, or how many children you can have. In some parts of this country there are still judges declaring that blacks can’t marry whites, and yet we’re okay with the government creating laws saying men can’t marry men and women marry women? Really?
But no, it’s the GAYS who want to change the law. No. They don’t. They want to have access to the rights that the Constitution already guarantees them and that their opponents are trying to take FROM them. That’s not abuse of a process. That’s simply justice.
PAD
Originally published July 26, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1184
Finishing up stuff from my sojourn to London…
…environmentalists, seismologists and the media are going to have to stop calling it “fracking.” I can’t get through a single article that talks about “fracking earthquakes” or “fracking wastewater” without breaking down laughing.
Fracking “Battlestar.”
PAD
Originally published July 19, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1183
Continuing thoughts, observations and this ‘n that from merry olde England…
I don’t actually know the NJ senator. I’m unfamiliar with his politics. I’m pretty sure he’s a Democrat. But I swear, if I lived in NJ, at this point I’d vote for his opponent.
Why? Because he keeps sending me unsolicited emails asking me to contribute to his campaign. The following is the opening of his most recent one:
Null -
The deadline tonight is vital to our campaign. We’ve got to show our opponents and the pundits exactly how strong our campaign is.
Yes. That’s right. “Null.” No “Dear Peter.” Not even, “My fellow American.” No. I’m “Null.” These people are so freaking incompetent that they can’t be bothered to write a form letter beginning with an actual salutation. Instead I’m “Null.” A zero, a zip, a cypher.
I’ve replied to them three times pointing this out and I keep getting variations on the same dumb-ass letter. I could just unsubscribe, but no; now it’s a challenge to get the attention of these idiots so that they realize when they send out letters with stupidity such as this, it’s not appreciated.
So join me in not voting for Bob Menendez. Granted, I don’t live in NJ, so I couldn’t vote for him even if I wanted to. But still…it just pisses me off.
PAD
Originally published July 12, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1182
Various and miscellaneous goings-on at Wolf 359, a Star Trek/Babylon 5 convention held in Blackpool, England, the weekend of June 10. Although I’ve attended conventions in both Ireland and Scotland, this is the first time I’ve spent any more time in England than was required to change planes at Heathrow.
How I call them not a genuine response–which would require actual thought–but instead simply knee-jerk, simplistic punitive thinking?
Well, the purest example of that I’ve seen in a while is currently raging over on Twitter.
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Originally published July 5, 1996, in Comics Buyer’s Guide #1181
And now for something completely different: A guest column But I Digress.
Basically, Dave Sim approached me with a piece that he had written for Diamond Comics to run as part of their catalogue, and they opted not to run it. So he came to me and asked me if I’d be interested in running it here in BID. I read it over and said, “Sure.”
Now… I’m not going to tell you at this moment if I agree with it or not. Form your own opinions, come back in a week or two, and we’ll discuss it.
And now, Dave Sim:
So Ariel and I were in Florida, having visited with Shana down in Jacksonville for the launch of her beautifully redone theater. Then we’d spent a couple of days at Disney and Universal. And now the plan was simple: drive at night up to Atlanta to rendezvous at her parent’s house for the holidays.
Shortly before crossing the border into Georgia, I hit a rest stop at about 1 AM. There were signs all over about 24 hour security. It was reasonably well lit. And there was a Florida highway patrolman on station. If I’d been smart, I would have simply sat there and slept for an hour or two before getting back on the road, but I was wide awake and didn’t see the need.
So I started driving again. We entered Georgia. And it all went to hell.
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