I didn’t buy any comics yesterday. But that’s not so unusual anymore. Lately I’ve often walked away from the store empty handed. This week I didn’t even go to the store. My pull list is down to seven titles so it’s not worth my while to drive up there more than once a month. A weekly ritual I’m participated in without fail since 1992 is over. An end that started with Blackest Night.
I was really into the series right up until the final pages of the final issue. With it’s theme of death vs. life I thought for sure Johns was trying to close the rotating door that death has become in the DCU. Instead, I got a mass, snap-of-the-fingers resurrection.
The DC and Marvel universes aren’t filled with characters, they’re filled with walking, talking intellectual property. Every superhero is really Wile E. Coyote. They don’t age and they can’t die, not for long. And if that’s the case, what are these “heroes” putting on the line? What are they risking? If death doesn’t exist than what worth is life?
One exception squeezed thorough this year: Marvel’s 1 Month 2 Live flew in the face of all that immortality. I recommend it.