Message Recall

I had one of those experiences years ago where someone direct messaged me asking about coming onto the podcast. This is someone whose work I had been following and enjoyed, but I was extremely surprised that they had reached out (and no, I’m not going to reveal who). My show was (is?) not well-known, let alone for the specific content this person was producing at that time.

So, I had to think about it for a while. I hadn’t done many interviews with people whom I have not already met or known, but after some thought, I decided to throw caution to the wind and take a chance! I responded with, “Sure! I assume you want to talk about the new —?” While I waited for the person’s reply, I started doing my homework: detailing who this person was, what they had been working on, and coming up with questions.

A day or two passed, but no response. I began to wonder: was the request a mistake? After all, there are other podcasts with “Longbox” in their title (let alone “Review”). Maybe this person meant to message that other podcast, or, just as likely, someone in their social media list who was before or after my name and they messaged the wrong person. Given that I never heard back, I assume the latter. I can only imagine that after I messaged them back, they thought, “Oh, shit! I contacted the wrong guy/show! What do I do?! If I say, ‘Sorry, I meant to send this to —‘, I’ll look like an asshole. I know, I’ll just pretend I hadn’t sent the message…”.

I don’t blame them for not responding. Who hasn’t accidentally sent a message you immediately wish you could recall and hoping the recipient hadn’t seen it? Still, it would have been interesting and probably a lot of fun had they responded and we did the interview (after all, more coverage is always a good thing). Oh well, maybe one day….

The Gutters: Current Mood


The Gutters are audio posts expressing thoughts about life outside the panels and pages of comic books, from my perspective.

Previous The Gutters posts:

Character Witness

Jaimie Alexander (Sif in the Thor movies) recently stated,

“The thing I really enjoy about Marvel is that they start with a character first and all the explosions and costumes, the glitz and glam, are secondary to who the actual character is deep down. That’s something I haven’t really been able to find with DC Comics,” said Alexander. “I know that’s a bold statement, but it’s been my experience.”

I can’t argue with her experience, but I disagree with her perception, and it is one that is held by many. There was a time, yes, when DC Comics characters and stories were, quite simply, not that interesting (stiff as a board comes to mind), especially in comparison to Marvel’s early work. But I don’t think it’s been that way since in decades (this is informed by my own reading experience, which started in the 1980s). No character in the New Teen Titans, Legion of Super-Heroes, Swamp Thing? I don’t think so. Animal Man, Books of Magic, Sandman? Batgirl, Secret Six? All good, strong characters from which good stories are told.

I don’t mean this to be a “Marvel isn’t all that” post, but to demonstrate that this idea of DC Comics as a publisher of not interesting (at best) and substandard (at worst) comics in comparison is just incorrect. I’m sure some (many?) will just deride me as a DC apologist, and if they do, so be it. The actual material will support my assertion.

A Waste of Time? Really?

I heard a person on a podcast the other day complaining that Legend of Wonder Woman, if it wasn’t official continuity, was a waste of time to read. I don’t get that. I guess I’ve always subscribed to the thought that stories are malleable and can be enduring (at least the good ones) and withstand (and can even be strengthened by) interpretations and new takes on the existing tropes. I like what Renae De Liz & Ray Dillon are doing with WW’s origin. Plus, if enough people respond positively to it, the story could become continuity. Why dismiss the premise out of hand?

What Does It Mean?

I dreamt that I was in a long line of people, all waiting to climb these stairs. We were anxious but not irritated at the wait. Eventually, I made it to the top of the stairs, and when I saw who was waiting there, I burst into tears of joy: it was Dream, from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman, as he was before he died. I don’t know why I cried, but I was overcome at seeing Dream for some reason. Dream then smiled at me, and I woke up.