Comic characters’ve been written, rewritten and redrawn by writers, artists and creative teams for decades. A true reflection of the times. Like all pop mediums, each frame is built to seduce. In this sense, comics are a celebration of marketing rather than romanticising notions of a moral mirror.
Where reason is void and emotions run a muck, nothing is logical; much like a William S. Burrows novel… Or a Twilight film.
#changethecover
Who knew that Batgirl was in production, let alone had a fan base?
Colourful and repetitive accusations began to spore. Blanket terms like “victimisation” and “barbaric” were hissed through social media; a user sensitive platform-cannot be stressed enough.
From the DC Women Kicking Ass website:
“This is the antithesis of girl power. This is the antithesis of superhero fun.”
Batgirl had been endorsed by she-Wolves. The collective Megabitch had taken an over elaborate “narrative tool” title under it’s BO ripe wing.
It is a wonder to me why the She-Clan’d back such a feeble character. Batgirl’s credibility is dire, even for comic books. A teenage super-mind, the spawn of a hero cop whom was celebrated for boldness and bravery but never brains. Her defining attribute is whimsical and the rest happened to correlate to a life of law enforcement… Bit dull.
Upon the previewed release of the cover, the bandwagon Batgirl fans swarmed, swatted and spat, possessed by the same devil as a toddler told it was too short for the roller coaster . The She-Wolves: Protectors of the Grand Orifice, were backing a poster girl for the good cause.
Their rage took the form of a fowl figure called Censorship. Thus #changethecover.
DC pulled the cover down. Never so simple are the motives behind art-an ambiguous sector of the mind.
Fan and fanatic, male and maddened. All prepared to combat the black hole, sucking joy from the universe.
Us against them.
It is a shame to see the dynamics of this image simplified. Much as it is condescending to simplify depictions of the fear induced male, the modern feminist and the righteous fan, I’m going to do so, in the same polarising fashion as the arguments surrounding this image. If you hadn’t noticed, I’ve already begun. Perhaps some self assessment, ideally a notion of self control may come from it.
The Male
As a male who hates the fun police (over bearing feminist activists), those whom feel justified in censorship to suit their ideals in a world that is not solely theirs, I find my fists clenched, drowning in a pool of my own aggression in defiance of their portrayal of me.
Personally I find cleaning therapeutic and enjoy cooking as a creative endeavour. I not only need, but crave women; a confusing contrast to those who stand strong in their belief that they don’t need men.
To the feminist, I-the male-is one whom preys on women, like a vampire or a ghoul, but not like a zombie, because a male has an agenda and zombies don’t discriminate. The male possesses brutish strength, and paired with a savage mind, utilizes, or unleashes that strength to overpower and reduce women. The male sees women as a threat, and can only control such a threat through acts physical overbearing and brutality. This is what I am, to them, every fucken’ time.
I lay in bed half naked-and male-and am spiteful of the aggressors, those cunts that pick me for oppressor. Truly hypocritical of a class that claim to have never been seen more than they’re appearance. I despise feminists because they’re always angry, and always at me.
The fuck did I do? I naturally react back, to berate, and bait and belittle, because they started it. Because when they play the victim there’s only one role left for me. I defend the above image, for no other reason than the collective Cunt is trying to bring it down. It matters not my appreciation for the image. I choose a side. I get sucked into argument.
This is my part. Us VS them.
The Feminist
To align my perception with that of the feminist I have to disregard this image as merely an image and see it as a threat-an insult. I have to rid myself of the knowledge that the image is a portrayal of a character in a comic book. And to truly get involved, I have to assume that the representation of a girl is, in fact, a real girl-me. Or someone I hold dear, or could be someone someone else holds dear.
I have to assume this image sits on a fulcrum. Dependent on tilt, will either maintain all that is good, or reign evil over the planet Earth for centuries to come, or until the next alignment of the planets-every 500 years or so.
I pause and reflect, and become confused. For in the instant that I existed in the realm of those assumptions and feel the threat, a wave of oppression hits me. Years of social inequality spurring a surge of fighting spirit, introspectively hating myself as that male who would, or could.
This is my part. Us VS them.
Both parties never stop to think about the context of the image, having little to no knowledge of the comics to begin with. Both sexes are guilty. But even the distinction of sex is a misrepresentation. It’s not as if all females are feminists, or that all feminists endorse the argument, or drop as low as to partake in it. Alternatively, it’s not as if all males feel threatened by women with opinion or power, or that all males are closet rapists. Ticking time bombs, so to speak.
“I’m talking about unchecked aggression here, Dude.”
And that’s what it is, unchecked aggression. There is rarely sense, and when it arrives, is riddled with spleen.
A brief History
The Joker was originally intended to be a true sociopath. Killing without prejudice, unbound by the infliction of social morality. Of course this was the original intention, but the Comic Code Authority [1954] put a stop to that quite quickly. The Joker then became a purple and green donning muppet for decades to come. It wasn’t until the 70’s that he got back on the horse.
Batgirl was introduced-along with Batwoman-as love interests for Robby Bottom and the Caped Crusader back in the 60’s to deter audiences from wide swept assumptions that the dynamic duo were bumming one other; a plausible case back then.
The sideline Batgirl was retired in 1988. DC was done with her. I’m guessing no one was reading. She was, after all, a narrative tool.
“The Killing Joke” was released later in 1998. Feminists were shitting then over it’s release. Batgirl was robbed of her ability to walk and served again as a tool, only this time to sway Commissioner Gordon-her father-into madness by the Joker. Despite the controversy surrounding the comic, it is regarded by many as the best thing since sliced bread. There are still some that maintain that sliced bread’s over rated; full of carbs and all that.
Batgirl, now crippled, donned the guise of Oracle, was celebrated by disabled readers. Feminists weren’t really involved at this point. Y’know, because she wasn’t able bodied n’ all, rendering her not so much a heroine and begging more the “crippled dollar”. ‘Tis extremely hard to attached an air of feminine strength when having to share the market with readers of a broader spectrum. If she were paired against Professor X, maybe they’d have use for her. But that’d never happen due to obvious reasons. Well, obvious to fans, anyway. That, and the logistics of a Marvel/DC crossover, pairing a character prop with the best baldy in the ass-kicking business. Again, not too marketable.
The Fan
Even the fan, with all the facts can still polarise and draw binaries, defining us and them.
I am the fan-they are not. Us VS them.
A true fan’d know Batman “canon” events. The image is an appreciation of something that, in comic reality, actually happened. The simplistic categorisation of the image through feminist slander, celebrated by true Batman fans, invokes an unquantifiable rage.
The fan tends to side with those that fight for freedom of speech. But before now, the fan could give a fuck of such rights. Unless, of course, the oppressed voice resonated with their own. The fan doesn’t invest anything in righteousness, although in this scenario, they find it’d strengthen their cause to defend the artwork. What truly matters to the fan isn’t the single image but the story and keeping it from those who would shame it for the purposes of a political agenda.
The fan wants the story to be celebrated, but they want the fame to come on their terms. This makes them snobbish and are bitter and jaded because of it. And because of that bitterness they bicker like the rest.
All the fan sees now is unnecessary censorship from a party so far removed from the comics the fan struggles to divine what the feminists and alleged fans are doing viewing the image in the first place. Intended for a 75th Anniversary of the Joker, it has little to do with the newly gathered, young female skewed, Batgirl audience.
There’s a sadistic nature to the piece. The fan overlooks this observation, stemming from a will to weaken the opposition, exacerbating the binaries further. But there is an undeniable truth that the image is confronting. How an individual reacts to the image will vary across the board.
This doesn’t validate any argument. All it means is that the argument’s no longer about the image. It’s about something else.
Conclusions
No one cares.
The true fans-Batman fans-don’t really give a shit. No one, not even the feminists or alleged Batgirl fans care. It’s only one image and there’s plenty more juicy source material out there for the fans, whether siding with Batman or Batgirl. The fans only care when someone who isn’t a fan fucks with the stories, or has the potential to, because those that interfere aren’t ever a fan. They are other.
Freedom of speech or a burden of the feminist cause? Both likely and noble causes to fight for but far removed from this image. None could convincingly argue an anchor to the above cover art.
Death threats were dealt-over the internet.
Probably from obese masses that if erected from their computer chairs, rendered bipedal, would reveal questionable structural integrity and mobility. Hardly a cause for alarm. Perhaps if said individuals converted such frustration into self improvement they mightn’t dispense unwarranted, yet empty threats of violence, to the world at large… From the convenience of a keyboard.
Fat kids…
The writers win this one.
They’ve managed to fend off a cover contradicting their current narrative and simultaneously draw attention to their teeny bopper drivel. Ultimately, the Joker just doesn’t fit in, and ideally’ll be left out completely. This variant cover stirs up the previous portrayals of Batgirl and simply won’t do marketing wise.
To the writers; don’t blame an artist just because your heroine protagonist’s got a history you’d like everyone to forget. Write better.
To those that argue; argue better. Perhaps involve a little empathy. Either way, the reminiscent image isn’t worth banishing, nor defending. It’s only a fucken’ image.
To the ones whom support the Batgirl rewrite; we clearly don’t have the same taste in comics.
To the threatened males; learn to have a conversation with “the other”. They aren’t aliens. You’ll surely find something to talk about. Unless they’re illegal aliens. In which case they’re only Mexican… Tequila is a good common ground. And Nachos. And Tacos.
… To the fat kids; You’re fat. No one likes you.
To those that don’t even read comics; thanks for reading.
rhubarbproductions 