Myopia, or: Frank Miller Serves The Assbug

Hey, didja know Frank Miller has a blog? Me neither! I bet it’s just chock full of little tidbits about Frank’s creative process, how he works, what he’s working on next, and a million other juicy insights that would excite the comics enthusiast! Let’s tune in, shall we?

The “Occupy” movement, whether displaying itself on Wall Street or in the streets of Oakland (which has, with unspeakable cowardice, embraced it) is anything but an exercise of our blessed First Amendment.

Wow! I feel like I have an insider’s view into… Wait, what?

This is no popular uprising. This is garbage. And goodness knows they’re spewing their garbage – both politically and physically – every which way they can find.

Oh, Frank. Who hurt you? Grab a glass, pour a drink, and tell your Uncle Rob –

Maybe, between bouts of self-pity and all the other tasty tidbits of narcissism you’ve been served up in your sheltered, comfy little worlds, you’ve heard terms like al-Qaeda and Islamicism.

Oooookay…

Well, maybe we caught Frank on a bad day. Maybe the good stuff about comics is in the earlier entries. Let’s take a look-see at the last post…

I wish all those responsible for the Atrocity of 9/11 to burn in hell.

Um… hey! Here’s some art! It’s called “A Nice Thought”!

*sigh* Here’s some art back atcha, Frank:

Look, I’m a firm believer in separating the artist from the art, otherwise I’d never be able to enjoy the music of Charles Manson or my extensive collection of Hitler paintings. But as a comics fan, my concern, based on nothing but pure speculation, is that Frank might be getting himself a one-track mind here. Which really is no concern of mine – what Frank Miller believes and does is his own Goddamned business, and God knows that Frank isn’t worried about, say, whether my drinking will affect mY RIiting stIle no YOUR the gy thats drunk!!!1!

But when an artist gets a bug up their ass about a particular subject, I become concerned that we’re only going to be seeing art that serves the assbug. And the fact that Miller apparently cut and run on All-Star Batman and Robin to do Holy Terror – a book about nothing but killing Islamic terrorists – certainly isn’t helping me to believe I’m wrong.

Here’s the part of Frank’s post that really concerns me:

Wake up, pond scum. America is at war against a ruthless enemy.

Okay… which has to do with Occupy Wall Street… what exactly? I get that you’ve picked up a thing against terrorism, Frank – and God knows that no one is for terrorism – but a bunch of crunchy granola college kids on an urban campout has absolutely fuck-all to do with it. These kids aren’t exactly stopping the war against terror, Frank; I pass the Occupy Boston kids on the way to the bar every night. If they’re not stopping a terminal drunkard from going about his evening, I doubt they’re gonna step on Seal Team Six’s dicks.

Look, it’s Frank’s life, and if he wants to spend it filtering everything through a haze of anti-terrorist fervor, that’s his business. But the way I see it, Steve Ditko wanted to filter everything through a filter of moral objectivism, which meant by the 1990’s, he would only work on books with clear good guys and bad guys, with no shade of gray at all… which meant the co-creator of Spider-man would only work on fucking wrestling comics.

Nobody likes terrorists, Frank, but they’re not the only thing I want to read about. I’m a long time Frank Miller fan, which means I want more Sin City stories. I want more Robocop and Martha Washington stories. Hell, I want more Batman stories… but the last time you sat down to write one of those, you decided that Batman didn’t fit with the propoganda you admittedly were trying to write… so you chucked Batman so you could keep the propaganda.

Let that sink in, Frank: you chose a message over character. I don’t give a fuck what you believe; that’s just not a choice I want my storytellers making.

So why don’t you quit frittering away your time and get back to work, Frank. Wake up: America is at war against a ruthless enemy. Maybe, between bouts of jingoism and all the other tasty tidbits of Arab Panic you’ve been served up in your sheltered, comfy little art studio, you’ve heard terms like bad comics and stilted, boring, Chick-Tract storytelling.