Sorry I Crashed Your Black Panther Party

I'd heard excellent things about writer Christopher Priest's run on Black Panther back in 1998, but I didn't actually pay attention to the character until the series relaunched seven years later. I picked it up mainly because fan-favorite artist John Romita Jr. penciled the first arc, but also because writer Reginald Hudlin's take on the hero seemed intriguing.

Hudlin lost me shortly after J.R. took his leave. I forget the particulars; suffice it to say it was because of the writing, not the character.

My interest is renewed because of Marvel's Secret Invasion: Black Panther collection. At only three issues long, it's one of the shorter comic trades you'll find, but it managed to make me care about the character again.

There's something inherently right about an arrogant warrior-king who's always two steps ahead of the bad guys. This ain't your typical neurotic superhero fretting about where the money for his aunt's medication is coming from. He's an Oxford-educated physicist, an inventor, and a skilled military strategist. This cat (yeah I said it) rules an industrialized African country that's never been conquered by anyone. He's like Batman crossed with Tony Stark crossed with Dr. Doom. Who would dare mess with the guy--especially knowing he won't hesitate to run you through with his sword?

Aliens, it turns out.

Jason Aaron wrote this incredible tie-in to last year's Secret Invasion event. While the rest of the Marvel heroes had their asses handed to them by the invading Skrull armada, Black Panther formulated a plan before the green bastards even arrived in his kingdom of Wakanda.

They should've turned around as soon as they caught a glimpse of what the slack-jawed readers saw on page three.

It was a tight, action-packed read, and it left me wanting more. I'm going to order Christopher Priest's two trades from '98 for starters. (Come to think of it, that's all I can order since the rest of his run isn't collected.)

After Iron Man 2 and The Avengers, Rider would like to see Marvel Studios release a Black Panther movie. Just keep Hudlin away from the script and it could be great.

Last Blogger Standing

"Where the hell's Rider?"

I heard your bitching.

If you must know, I slipped into the pop culture equivalent of a coma. With the TV season still weeks away, I resorted to renting V: The Original Miniseries and playing Donkey Kong (only 500 Wii points* on the Wii Shop Channel!)

It was like 1983 all over again, minus the low self-esteem and inescapable Fixx songs.

On the bright side, I finished reading the final collection of the Y: The Last Man series from Vertigo/DC Comics.


If you haven't read it, Brian K. Vaughan and Pia Guerra crafted a superb 60-issue story about a mysterious plague that wiped out every individual on the planet with a Y chromosome. Only one man, Yorick Brown, survived the "gendercide."

It's a fascinating read and impossible to put down. Vaughan delves into the way society would change with women running everything from governments to the entertainment industry to black ops.

The only thing he doesn't explore is how the blogosphere would change...which got me thinking.

If a plague killed off every blogger on the planet except me, it'd be interesting to see exactly who would be left. Many questions and suspicions about the identities of my online friends would be confirmed by the sheer number of blogs with no new entries.

For example, I've met Slinger and McGone and I know they are fine, upstanding representations of the human male (the latter proving it by not wearing Crocs, but that's beside the point).

But who out there is actually a man writing as a woman (or vice versa)?

And how else would the Interwebs change without guys?

Please post your guesses in the comments section.

And ladies, hug a man today. The world would suck without us.
* That's five bucks to you, you non-Wii-playin' loser!

Phelps Blog Reaction #865,000

I didn't want to write about Michael Phelps' eighth gold medal win in the Beijing Summer Olympics, but I've been told I have to.

Dear Mr. Rider,

Please be advised that Blogger's Terms of Service (specifically, section 8.6's "Content in the Services") indicates the following: "You agree that you will blog about matters of national pride as exemplified by athletes, politicians, celebrities, etc., etc...up to and including prop comedians. Failure to do so may result in deletion of your blog."

We here at Blogger have noticed it has been 12 hours since U.S. swimmer Michael Phelps set a new world record, yet you have failed to post any content related to your feelings regarding his achievement.

We do not want to delete your blog. It is mildly amusing and fills a niche among popular culture blogs written by folks with differently-shaped heads made of wood.

If I may suggest a topic: speculate on the size of Phelps' "johnson." But do it from a heterosexual male's perspective. We here at Blogger love the dick jokes.

Get with the program or join the jamokes over at Wordpress.

Best Wishes, Phineas T. Blogspot
Founder and CEO of Blogger

Alright, already...but let the record show I'm writing this under duress.

I was watching last night's relay race, but only because Mrs. Rider didn't want to watch Ruins with me. (Apparently "horror" movies make her "scared" and she doesn't like feelings of "dread.")

I'll say this: it was pretty cool watching history being made.

Michael Phelps represented his country on the world stage, kicked ass, and instilled feelings of American pride that we'll all be talking about for years to come.

It's Wheaties boxes and Speedo endorsement deals for Phelps from here on out. In 30 years he'll have replaced Chuck Norris as a pitchman for exercise equipment. And good for him; he deserves it.

The truth is, I appreciate him for no other reason than we've needed someone to rally behind for the last seven years.

I hope this fulfills my obligation.

Side note: As cool as Phelps' win was, I actually had more of a patriotic reaction from this comic book page. Keep in mind it came out around 2002.

Doesn't Anyone Reference Kolchak Anymore?

"What's this?" you mutter. "An unprecedented three posts in one day? Rider must be mainlining Red Bull."

Nope. Just Chips Ahoy and skim milk.*

Tonight I felt the need to share a new game called "Can You Spot the Pattern?"

The following are three blurbs from three different ads for new upcoming titles from Digital Webbing. I found them in a single comic book. They have one thing in common.

Can you spot the pattern?


I know there's an X-Files movie being released soon, but aren't these pitches so ten years ago? They might as well say, "It's like Saving Private Ryan if Ryan wore a cape and saved other people," or, "It's like Armageddon if Affleck could deflect the asteroid with a single punch."

Ah, 1998. I'm feeling nostalgic for Something About Mary. Remember the semen in her hair? Good times.

* Besides, I prefer Full Throttle.

Done in 400

Back in January I wrote about how I was done buying Spider-Man comics, and I stand by my decision.

Well, the last few issues that I pre-ordered before my decision have arrived in my monthly shipment of books this week.

I thought it was interesting to note that the final issue is numbered 551. Considering the first issue in my collection began with 151, I take it as a sign that I'm getting out at the right point.


Now I start checking sales on this title to see if I'm alone in my boycott.

Gerber Ducks into the Unknown

Before the world heard of Star Wars, and before the Disney Company would claim ownership of all pants-less water fowls, there was an ill-tempered, cigar-smoking duck and his red-headed, hairless ape girlfriend.

Comics were never the same.

Steve Gerber was a ground-breaking writer of the rarest variety: unlike most pioneers who are seldom appreciated in their own time, my 11-year-old mind knew it was witnessing something unique and deep when I first picked up Howard the Duck #1.

I was too young to pick up on the nuances of Gerber's cutting-edge satire as filtered through the eyes of a duck "trapped in a world he never made," but I knew I was reading something unlike anything being published by a mainstream comics company. For the first time I was regularly buying a comic book not featuring men in tights.

Gerber's distinctive voice was also the first to make me seek out comic books written by a specific person rather than drawn.

While I didn't read his Omega The Unknown series, I followed his career when he ventured into television and created Thundarr the Barbarian, and I still have the controversial Void Indigo graphic novel.

Steve Gerber died yesterday.

Read what his friends and other comics professionals thought about him here.

The Block Becomes a DMZ

DMZ: from Vertigo/DC. Written by Brian Wood, art by Riccardo Burchielli.

Boiled down: Manhattan has become a demilitarized zone following the second Civil War in American history. Insurgent groups and survival rates change from one neighborhood to the next. It's like John Carpenter had a horrifying wet dream. Intern Matty Roth is sent into the DMZ with a Pulitzer Prize-winning jackass to report on conditions inside. Their helicopter goes down in an attack, and Matty finds himself on his own, in an environment he doesn't understand. He becomes the first journalist to file reports on what life is like for the remaining 400,000 citizens who weren't evacuated before the island found itself the epicenter of two warring sides.


The first trade collection* sets up Matty's predicament beautifully. You're thrown into the thick of it with this kid, seeing it all unfold through his eyes in a frightening blur. It's not long before Wood delivers his overriding message and theme of the series: Wake up. Don't believe everything the government tells you about what's going on in a war zone. Matty quickly learns the lay of this new land; such as what happens in a zoo when supplies are cut off (not what you think; Wood's better than that). He also discovers which one item he brought in with him is worth its weight in gold--but only after it's stolen. (I was confused when the perennial bandage--or breathing strip?--above his nose appears between chapters and isn't explained. But Burchielli makes it look cool. That's the important thing.)

The "Body of a Journalist" arc digs into the way reporters are used as tools by both insurgents and the government. Matty's eyes are opened to the way he's being played, and he spirals into paranoia, especially after the leader of an insurgent group reveals a shocking secret. And Matty gets a girlfriend. (But she's from Canada. You wouldn't know her.) A nice backup feature in this collection: a guided tour of New York. Wood digs into the cultures, neighborhoods, and people of a city that's as much a character as Matty himself.

"Public Works" has our hero going undercover to expose a corrupt, Halliburton-like corporation's shady business practices in wartime. This is the most complex and satisfying arc of the three trades I've read. Matty's commitment to uncovering the truth is tested to the extreme, and his courage shines. By the end I found myself admiring this character's determination and guile. I also wondered if there are there any real reporters like Matty Roth still around.

Final word: Intelligent, thought-provoking writing with gritty illustrations you owe it to yourself to read. Wake the hell up.

Hardcore rating: 5 out of 5 "Hardcore, Chucks"




* Note Brian Wood's autograph below the "D" in the title. He signed it for me even though I approached him at a convention and called him by the wrong name. I'm a fucking idiot. FYI.

Spidey, We Hardly Knew Ye

In their 20th attempt to do more damage control to the erupting controversy over Peter Parker's struck-from-the-record marriage to Mary Jane, Marvel Comics released this image from next week's issue of The Amazing Spider-Man.

Things have gotten way nuttier. I don't think this will placate the fans one bit.


Spider-Man fans, check out my other posts from the last week here and here. If you comment and have a blog, be sure to include the URL so I can visit. Thanks for dropping by the Block!

Spider-Man Drives Traffic to The Block

All I did was blog about the controversial decision by Marvel Comics to magically erase a marriage,* and the next thing I knew it got mentioned on a popular comic book blog.

Now I'm taking hundreds of hits from all over the world, including some from the Marvel offices (the editor-in-chief, judging by the size of the monitor).

Well, bend over, Abigail Mae, 'cause I'm gonna ride this for all it's worth.

I thought I'd add one quote to Peter David's list of what Mary Jane whispered to the demon Mephisto before he nullified her marriage to Peter Parker.

"If Peter starts dating again within a month, give him cancer of the nutsack."

Uh oh...


Bookmark my blog, Spidey fans!

* A common dream of married men and women the world over. Haw haw haw.

Insultingly Short Reviews of Huge Books™: Box Office Poison

I read all 602 pages of Alex Robinson's graphic novel Box Office Poison.

It was good. You should read it too.

Next: Jeff Smith's 1,332-page collection of Bone.

MJ's Available, Guys!

After her marriage to Peter Parker was magically undone last week--literally by supernatural forces--Mary Jane Watson was seen leaving a surprise party* miserable and alone.


Why the long face? Maybe it had something to do with Peter hitting on a potential new love interest a mere seven pages after regaining his bachelor status.

Hours later, a search of The New York Times' personals yielded this ad:


* A party thrown for friend Harry Osborn, who was returned from the dead as part of a package deal with the devil. Confused? Welcome to the shared nightmare of tens of thousands of outraged Marvel Comics fans.

Excerpt from Powers: Cosmic

Brian Michael Bendis has written the best Powers story arc so far. "Cosmic," the tenth trade collection, features on-stage monologues as narrative framing devices between action scenes. This piece of dialogue has stuck with me for several days after reading it:

"My sister had a baby...and I was thinking, this niece of mine...she has nothing left to learn about human beings other than how horribly disappointing they can and will be. I'm saying: right now, all people in the eyes of a two year old are equally fine. All she has left to learn is they are not!"

Rider's 6-Ounce Reviews™ - December 2007

For a guy with too much time on my hands, I don't have much to spare for barely-above-average pop culture offerings. I can wrap these up in the time it takes you to slam half of your Miller Lite (unless you're drinking a tall boy).

Grounded (Image Comics)

Imagine you go to a high school where everyone's special except you. Sounds like 9th-12th grade for me, but Jonathan in Grounded is the only normal kid in a school full of super-powered teens. The creators mix in equal amounts of humor and pathos as they introduce this lonely but determined young boy. Jon's belief in himself at the expense of a social life reminded me of Corey Haim in Lucas--and I don't mean that as a punchline. This is a story about a kid overcoming extreme odds and trying to gain respect through sheer force of will. It had a few flaws (which knocked this down from earning a full review), but it pays off for fans of the superhero genre looking for something original and heartwarming.

Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (Anchor Bay)

Most horror films ask you to suspend your disbelief the way a bum wants you to think your donation is going towards food. This movie knees your disbelief in the balls and offers you an ice pack only after you've suffered for an hour. Behind the Mask isn't bad, mind you, but it asks an awful lot. Are you OK with a mockumentary selling the premise of a slasher that lets a camera crew film his wacky exploits as he plans a night of premeditated murder on a group of teenagers? And that the interviewer would treat him like an all-star quarterback training for the Superbowl? To be honest, I was. I wanted to like it based on this blogger's review. It's clear the creators love the genre they're satirizing, but maybe I'm too much of a fan: I saw plot twists coming from the first ten minutes and got hung up on all the questions they didn't answer that would've made it stronger. Saving them for the sequel, perhaps. Heck, I'll rent it. I give change to hobos, too.

52 volumes 1-4 (DC Comics)

I'm more of a Marvel fan than anything, but I cut my reading teeth on old school DC titles, and the premise of telling a year's worth of stories in real-time (a comic a week for 52 weeks) appealed to me. But not enough to buy them as they came out. Hell, no. I waited for the four collected volumes before delving into a universe without its Three Big Guns on active duty. Supes, Bats, and the Amazon take a back seat to a handful of minor and/or supporting characters and give them their moments in the spotlight. Who'da thought a Marvel zombie would actually care about The Question or Animal Man? Or that I would get goose pimples during an especially creepy moment when a burning wicker effigy with a woman's face tugs at Elongated Man's robe and whispers, "Ralph...?" Jebus, I'm still creeped out, and that was in the first volume! Many of the finer points were surely lost on me, but I came away with a deeper appreciation of DC's rich history.

Paleontologists At War

Bone Sharps, Cowboys, and Thunder Lizards from G.T. Labs. Written by Jim Ottaviani, art by Big Time Attic.


I attended one of the 366 Wizard World conventions this year* and as I walked through Artist's Alley--right between a merchant selling lethal Japanese weaponry to kids and the guy who was Count Dooku's alternate stunt double--I found the Big Time Attic table. I was drawn to the Mark Schultz cover of Bone Sharps, but I handed my money over for the rest of this wonderful book.

Jim Ottaviana crafts a based-on-true-events story about two pioneers of paleontology, Edward Cope and Othniel Marsh, whose intense, bitter rivalry was tabloid fodder during the Gilded Age. Yes, this is a comic where you'll learn things, like how there was something called the Gilded Age.

These two distinguished men of science couldn't stand each other, even though their theories on dinosaur evolution were identical. They did everything they could to mess with and discredit each other, including planting fake skulls. Cope and Marsh's excavation camps threw frickin' rocks at each other, fer corn's sake.**


Artistically, this book is a triumph. The overall design is just gorgeous. I told the artists that their stuff reminded me of Chris Ware's work on Jimmy Corrigan. (They seemed pleased and signed my copy with a dino sketch for free.) I always appreciate a project where it's obvious the writer and artist work together so perfectly.

It's worth a click on the G.T. Labs link above. Check out the other titles from this company. You wouldn't think "comics about scientists" would be a selling point, but based on this title alone it will be for me.***

* One for every day, with leap years thrown in as a bonus!

** I quote SpongeBob regularly.

*** At the next Wizard World, which begins in ten minutes.

A Coward Takes Refuge on The Block

Criminal: Coward: from Icon/Marvel. Written by Ed Brubaker, art by Sean Phillips.


Baggage going in: I've been a fan of writer Ed Brubaker for a while--15 years, to be exact, ever since reading his serialized "An Accidental Death" story. The man is at his best when writing about the dark side of human nature. I also enjoy what he's been doing on Captain America (he was the guy who killed him off) and The Immortal Iron Fist. I don't purchase a lot of crime comics, however, because they rarely hold my attention.


You know you're reading the right comic when: The main character, Leo, starts planning a diamond heist with a pair of crooked cops. You get an idea of how canny this dude really is, and you begin to root for a career criminal who lives by his own set of rules.


I have ADD--boil it down™: A meticulous professional and his motley crew are recruited for a score on a police evidence van that escalates into something more dangerous than they bargained for...the characters are beautifully written and you care about every flawed one of them, especially the junkie/mentor Ivan...Sean Phillips' art is raw and bold and perfect for this story...the "Franz Kafka, Private Eye" comic strip felt unnecessary...this is not a feel-good story for readers who want a "freeze frame as they laugh" ending--this is about damaged souls from south of the law who know where they're headed...if it was a movie it would've been directed by John Frankenheimer or William Friedkin.


Final word: Pure, uncut crime comic smack you'll want to shoot up with a rusty syringe.

Hardcore rating: 4 out of 5 "Hardcore, Chucks"