Really Cool Comic Shops
Every time I hear a horror story about a local comic shop, I want to tell people about Fudd's Rabbit Hole. This small store is owned by Elmer Fudd. He's had all sorts of jobs and is one of the most egalitarian people I know. The following would be better with photos, but I'm not going to plaster folks all over the internet without their consent. I went there to pick up my comics this Wednesday.
First, I had to find a parking spot, and wound up in the back lot, which was fine because his shop is right off the main road and it was rush hour. I walked in and his assistant jumped up and started to head for my pull box, but remembered I always step behind the counter to get it myself. Fudd waved around his arms and reached for a box, showing me the new Nursing Kittens Catwoman Statue from Kotobukiya.
I explained that it was a beautiful sculpt but unfortunately, the nursing kittens look didn't do it for me. I pointed at the 15" DC Direct Batman figure he had up on a shelf behind the counter and explained it would be as if that statue were missing a boot. I could invent a dozen explanations why but, ultimately, it was an incongruous and therefore gratuitous in a way that distracted me from any ability to appreciate the rest of the work.
He understood. We discussed failing market strategies of the older, established comic related companies. How they rely on heavily out-dated sales demographics but make such a limited profit they don't dare risk stepping outside a comfortable, though shrinking, niche. Fudd argued that it still ensured 60%o of the market, the men and the lesbians. I countered that they could have had 75%, because people tend to underestimate the percentage of young men who were once little boys that thought Sarah Conner, Ellen Ripley and Princess Leia fucking rocked.
The market is leveling, the sheer abundance of female characters revealing how inadequate "looks hot" is becoming for an audience. Female characters are increasingly being held to the same standards as male characters, where good looks and a cool costume are merely square one.
That's good, you know. It means the companies providing the source material can't skate by on the token hot chick anymore. It's not just women who demand more; our voices are increasingly joined by men who are sick and fucking tired of pretty girls who are boring as crap, worthless set decoration that chew up screen time and panel space. So anyway, I think Kotobukiya would have made more money over all if they had also offered a less silly variant of that Catwoman for all of that who find wardrobe malfunctions to be retarded rather than sexy. I give Sideshow Collectibles props for figuring out the obvious strategy. See, here's a Liz for femme fans. Here's the one I got.
After that, we discussed Affirmative Action, it's introduction, evolution and growing ironic conflict with its success, wherein quota requirements undermine who is most qualified. I presented the post office as a great example of "can you do the job or not" as the ultimate benchmark. Fudd pointed out that people will hire their friends first, no matter what. Then we discussed how the gay rights awareness movement has followed a similar pattern, where once outing oneself was necessary to make people drop their blinders. Now it gets annoying because a lot of people don't fucking care who has sex, with whom, or how and can we plz be proud of being normal now? We agreed that when no one cares about stupid shit like that, the world will finally be a better place.
Somehow the discussion turned to taxidermy and the endangered species act. Fudd and his assistant began to list animals they liked seeing in stuffed form. Fudd described an owl his father owned, with reflective eyes that watched you in the dark. The assistant described an antique jaguar he found at a flea market and his lingering anger at how his sister gave it away to a relative without his consent. I mentioned that I liked stuffed turkey. Fudd started to note that was an odd choice, but stopped partway through, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked away from me, shaking his head while the fellow next to him sniggered.
All the while, customers came in and out of the store. There were white folks, black folks, hispanic folks, some kids, some middle aged guys, a couple of rolling stones, a family came in reigning in their kid, a lesbian couple (one of them another part time store assistant), that gay fellow with all the piercings, a non-descript fellow that Fudd pointed at smirking, saying he was exactly the type who found little dolls with rubber boobies hot, until it all blended together. It was a pretty typical crowd.
I rounded up my comics, after looking through the Previews, I pointed to an advertisement for "Invincible", saying it was a great book. He nodded and said it was one of those that he always read but hardly anyone buys and described it as one of those that people either love or hate. I nodded and then he mentioned a book titled "The Pro". He said that Ennis, Conner and Palmiotti had gotten drunk in a bar one day and come up with this idea that lampooned the JLA and patronizing attitudes toward prostitution at the same time. He said I'd love it and he was right.
Dear Amanda Conner: AH was probably referring to sucking on toes for sexual gratification.
Not that she'll see that.
First, I had to find a parking spot, and wound up in the back lot, which was fine because his shop is right off the main road and it was rush hour. I walked in and his assistant jumped up and started to head for my pull box, but remembered I always step behind the counter to get it myself. Fudd waved around his arms and reached for a box, showing me the new Nursing Kittens Catwoman Statue from Kotobukiya.
I explained that it was a beautiful sculpt but unfortunately, the nursing kittens look didn't do it for me. I pointed at the 15" DC Direct Batman figure he had up on a shelf behind the counter and explained it would be as if that statue were missing a boot. I could invent a dozen explanations why but, ultimately, it was an incongruous and therefore gratuitous in a way that distracted me from any ability to appreciate the rest of the work.
He understood. We discussed failing market strategies of the older, established comic related companies. How they rely on heavily out-dated sales demographics but make such a limited profit they don't dare risk stepping outside a comfortable, though shrinking, niche. Fudd argued that it still ensured 60%o of the market, the men and the lesbians. I countered that they could have had 75%, because people tend to underestimate the percentage of young men who were once little boys that thought Sarah Conner, Ellen Ripley and Princess Leia fucking rocked.
The market is leveling, the sheer abundance of female characters revealing how inadequate "looks hot" is becoming for an audience. Female characters are increasingly being held to the same standards as male characters, where good looks and a cool costume are merely square one.
That's good, you know. It means the companies providing the source material can't skate by on the token hot chick anymore. It's not just women who demand more; our voices are increasingly joined by men who are sick and fucking tired of pretty girls who are boring as crap, worthless set decoration that chew up screen time and panel space. So anyway, I think Kotobukiya would have made more money over all if they had also offered a less silly variant of that Catwoman for all of that who find wardrobe malfunctions to be retarded rather than sexy. I give Sideshow Collectibles props for figuring out the obvious strategy. See, here's a Liz for femme fans. Here's the one I got.
After that, we discussed Affirmative Action, it's introduction, evolution and growing ironic conflict with its success, wherein quota requirements undermine who is most qualified. I presented the post office as a great example of "can you do the job or not" as the ultimate benchmark. Fudd pointed out that people will hire their friends first, no matter what. Then we discussed how the gay rights awareness movement has followed a similar pattern, where once outing oneself was necessary to make people drop their blinders. Now it gets annoying because a lot of people don't fucking care who has sex, with whom, or how and can we plz be proud of being normal now? We agreed that when no one cares about stupid shit like that, the world will finally be a better place.
Somehow the discussion turned to taxidermy and the endangered species act. Fudd and his assistant began to list animals they liked seeing in stuffed form. Fudd described an owl his father owned, with reflective eyes that watched you in the dark. The assistant described an antique jaguar he found at a flea market and his lingering anger at how his sister gave it away to a relative without his consent. I mentioned that I liked stuffed turkey. Fudd started to note that was an odd choice, but stopped partway through, rubbing a hand over his face. He looked away from me, shaking his head while the fellow next to him sniggered.
All the while, customers came in and out of the store. There were white folks, black folks, hispanic folks, some kids, some middle aged guys, a couple of rolling stones, a family came in reigning in their kid, a lesbian couple (one of them another part time store assistant), that gay fellow with all the piercings, a non-descript fellow that Fudd pointed at smirking, saying he was exactly the type who found little dolls with rubber boobies hot, until it all blended together. It was a pretty typical crowd.
I rounded up my comics, after looking through the Previews, I pointed to an advertisement for "Invincible", saying it was a great book. He nodded and said it was one of those that he always read but hardly anyone buys and described it as one of those that people either love or hate. I nodded and then he mentioned a book titled "The Pro". He said that Ennis, Conner and Palmiotti had gotten drunk in a bar one day and come up with this idea that lampooned the JLA and patronizing attitudes toward prostitution at the same time. He said I'd love it and he was right.
Dear Amanda Conner: AH was probably referring to sucking on toes for sexual gratification.
Not that she'll see that.