The same Batgirl-clad fan who made appearances at many DC panels over the weekend asked why there aren’t more female creators on DC titles. DiDio said that DC Comics hires the best writers and artists they can, to much applause from the audience. Morrison quipped that he looks great in a dress, to which the questioner responded, “I appreciate you trying to brush me off.” Morrison then encouraged women in the audience to submit their work to DC.

I legitimately believe that DC isn’t looking for male or female creators: they are looking for people that are willing to churn out the exact work that Dan Didio’s editorial reign seems to demand. This means sticking to the people that have already proven themselves valuable to the company in one capacity or another. Look at the lineup of creators in the “New 52″ and you’ll see many, many familiar names from the last two decades.

DC’s retrenching is not nearly as radical as they want you to believe. Yes, they’re retooling characters and concepts a bit, but they’re not bringing in new voices. There is there simply no good business reason for them to do so; the linchpin of their strategy is digital distribution and not a creative renaissance. Do I wish it were the latter? Yes, I do, but it can’t be because their business isn’t strong enough at this time to be able to take the occasional flyer that allows real growth for the genre.

None of this excuses the hiring imbalance, but it does show that to the top brass, it’s not as simple as “hire some women, please.”

(Also, if you want your questions about gender and hiring policies at DC to be taken seriously, perhaps asking them when dressed as one of the company’s iconic characters isn’t the best way to go about it. You should hold your convictions strongly enough to put your name and face on them.)

“The television——still hasn’t hit the street——”

I’m sure there is. I mean, if there were no reason, then we’d have one, right?

(Seriously, though, I’ve been re-re-reading the original material and it’d be perfect for the 15-minute slots they’ve been using for the last few years or, even better, as a half-hour companion to The Venture Brothers. Someone needs to get on that. Or tell me to get on that and give me money. So much money.)

A lot of comics creators (and readers) use the most benign platitudes when it comes to race and gender in superhero books. They say that it doesn’t matter if the latest incarnation of a legacy character is black or white or asian, that it’s not important to the story if Black Manta is a woman this go-round or whatever. Because, you know, people are people, you know?

Dwayne McDuffie was hard-headed and impassioned enough to say “Yes, it does.” He brought the experience he had as a black kid growing up in Detroit in the 70s and 80s to every project he got his hands on by choosing directly not to emulate what he’d seen in the comic books he read, but by creating what he wished he had read.

I’m not going to pretend that I enjoyed all of his work but even when he missed the mark, the lessons he wanted to impart and the world he wanted superhero comics to inhabit were right there in high-gloss digital color on the page and in the numerous animated projects he scripted and produced. Even more than what we saw in the product, McDuffie was fearless, forthright and passionate when it came to his convictions and beliefs, whether he was speaking to fans or the the upper management at Marvel and DC.

He wore his storytelling heart on his sleeve and comics needs more of that. Pop culture needs more of that.

We’ll miss you, Dwayne. Bless.

I avoided the reprint hardcovers because our apartment is currently choked with massive archival tomes, so the Bloom County app for the iPad has been a real godsend. Outside of a few issues with sizing — there’s some jaggies that are very apparent in the lettering at its default size — it’s a perfect example of content and pricing* hitting a sweet spot with $8 getting you a year of the strip, a much better value than the $2-3 that’s generally being charged for a single issue of Wolverine: Origins or whatever.

So, you know, recommended or whatever.

* Especially considering the fact that IDW’s oversized books retail at $40 a pop and collect two years of material.

Yes, there’s a few comics I own but haven’t read yet (X’ed Out) or have been meaning to catch up with (King City) and a few superhero comics I’ll kick myself for not mentioning (Batman and Robin and Batman: Incorporated, Thor: The Mighty Avenger and Jeff Parker and Gabriel Hardman’s Hulk and Atlas work,) but here’s some things that really jumped out at me and grabbed my attention.

Moving Pictures by Kathryn and Stuart Immonen
At this year’s San Diego Comic-Con, while standing about six feet from them, I declared that Kathryn and Stuart Immonen were the Jackie and John Kennedy of comics. The thing is, the person I was speaking with got it immediately: the restraining order level enthusiasm I have for the pair and their work is earned in spades and while both is a noteworthy creator on their own, together, their collaborative works are just plain sublime.

Moving Pictures uses the art world’s underground railroad during World War II as a backdrop, but the real story lies between two people on opposite sides of the effort. Ila and Rolf’s interactions may recall a hundred other fictional opposites, but the Immonens’ unique ability to pull emotion from spare scripts and deceptively minimal art, along with their trust in one another and their belief in the audience demands a level of engagement from the audience that is bracing and welcome.

Love and Rockets New Stories Volume 3 by Los Bros Hernandez
I’ll just add my voice to the chorus: “Browntown” is likely the best comic that Jaime Hernandez has done, period. The fact that it’s bookended by Gilbert’s masterfully bleak sociosexual sci-fi story of first contact, “The Love Bunglers” makes this possibly the highest-potency dosage of quality comics that came out this year. Like the Coen Brothers are for film, I am pretty convinced that I could read just comics by Los Bros Hernandez and feel immensely satisfied.

Absolute Planetary
I wanted to avoid mentioning reprints, particularly expensive large-format volumes that are already out of print, but reading all of Planetary in one dose reminds us that Ellis believes in people despite his curmudgeonly reputation. While Jakita Wagner kicking the shit out of anything that hoves into her view is my primary fetish when it comes to the title, getting an oversized look at John Cassaday’s development as a sequential artist free of the occasionally-year-long delays between issues is a genuine pleasure.

Peepo Choo by Felipe Smith
Felipe Smith’s three-volume manga from Vertical is insane and sexist, culturally obnoxious, and is likely be the work of a mad genius. Stop me if you think that you’ve heard this one before: an otaku obsessed with a bizarre anime, a wannabe gangster comic shop manager and his boss, who happens to be a bondage-clad murderer for hire, go to Japan and find out something about themselves as they engage in adventures that involve a buxom teenage model, a criminal syndicate and lots and lots of violence. Originally published in Japan by Kodansha but with barbs aimed at both sides of the Pacific, Peepo Choo is gross, cruel, smart and generally in exquisitely poor taste, even as it displays a surprising amount of heart.

It’s the sort of book that pushes the edge of commercially-viable manga and while I don’t want every comic to follow in its footsteps, I do think that the medium needs need more message-laden slaps to the face.

Elmer by Gerry Alanguilan
It’s a story of a twenty-something’s panic and journey of self-discovery after the death of his father, except that the lead character and most of the cast are sentient chickens. It’s terrific.

David Uzumeri of Comics Alliance asked for help getting the word out on his campaign to get Quislet elected as Legion president and I was more than happy to help. Quislet is amazing. Go vote!