21 Important, Undeniable, Inalienable Truths About This Whole "Captain America Is A Nazi" Thing

1. It's just a comic book.
2. But it's also a comic book with symbolic meaning and a high cultural value.
3. People have a right to feel however the hell they want about a thing.
4. People have no right to tell other people to feel or not feel a certain way about a thing.
5. Even though you have that right to be upset about something, that is not an excuse or intrinsic justification for hyperbole, melodrama, or other such absurd overreactive expressions.
6. Not everyone who feels upset is necessarily overreacting.
7. Not everyone who doesn't feel upset is a cold, heartless Nazi.
8. Reactionary thinkpiece culture is out of control.
9. The Manufactured Internet Outrage Machine is a serious problem.
10. But again, to reiterate: individuals are allowed to be upset, or outraged, or experience any other emotion about anything, ever.
11. They also have a right to express those feelings, in person or online.
12. Having or not having certain feelings about an issue does not give anyone a reason to act like a judgmental shithead.
13. Yes, retroactively changing established comic book continuity to make Captain America into a Nazi sleeper agent is absolutely a marketing ploy. (And yes, you fell for it.)
14. Just because something is a marketing plot, does not mean that is inherently good or bad.
15. It's also part 1 of an ongoing storyline — which is part of 75 years of the single, never-ending storyline that is Big Two comic book continuity. Which means that it's not the full story, and in fact was likely written to intentionally deceive and draw readers back in to buy the next issue, because that's what cliffhangers do.
16. It might even end up being a good story? Who knows? (My money's on "probably not," but YMMV)
17. Yes, it will inevitably be undone/erased/re-retconned out of the story.
18. That's neither a defense nor condemnation of this particular piece of storytelling. It's just the nature of corporate superhero comics.
19. Every single Captain America comic book ever written still exists, and will still exist, and can still be enjoyed in isolation, and is not nullified or ruined by this revelation.
20. This is all due in part to the fact that capitalism has enabled corporations to control and profit off of folklore and cultural iconography in the way that would make Hercules and Gilgamesh cry.
21. Perhaps most importantly: the Cosmic Cube, which was responsible for returning Steve Rogers to his youthful appearance, was already being tampered with by the Red Skull, who has previously used the Cube to alter reality and history and, oh yeah, switch bodies with Captain America, which means that Captain America was kind of already a Nazi already, and that's not even counting the time when the Red Skull lived in the cloned body of Steve Rogers for years, or any of the numerous times he infiltrated high-level positions in the U.S. government, or the fact that he currently has incomparable telepathic abilities due to being in possession of Professor X's brain and could have easily implanted a memory or something else BECAUSE COMICS.

"My Life As A Weapon" is your new favorite song about my favorite Avenger.

As anyone who's met me would probably expect, I'm super pumped about CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR. So to celebrate, here's a song I recently wrote about Clint Barton, the powerless, purple-wearing, bow-and-arrow-loving badass known as Hawkeye. (Specifically, it's about the comic book version of Hawkeye, with allusions to his relationship with Kate Bishop and his life growing up in the carnival and his death and resurrection at the hands of Wanda Maximoff but...let's not get so bogged down in continuity, yeah?)

LYRICS

This looks bad
You can blame that on my dear ol' deadbeat dad
But I'm not mad
Until the arrow that I've notched becomes my last

One more shot to break
this carny from his cage
where a low-life can escape
to save the day

So I'll stay on target
Because that's all I know how to do
Just as long as I'm next to you

And I know that this looks bad
But the quivering is all I've ever had
Like some Nomad
Or a Ronin dressed in black to hide the past

Draw the bow back, breathe
One moment of control
Because once it flies
You never know

So I'll stay on target
Because that's all I know how to do
Stay on target
While I'm fighting my way through
Stay on target
Just as long as I'm next to you

"Not like this."
When the silence stings
My sight's my only bliss
But I won't miss
Because I'm going out in style
with my greatest hits

I'm no Giant Man
But I won't give up the fight
Until my violet violence
Takes its flight

I'm in a play called "We're Gonna Die!" and it's awesome so you should come see it.

It's a new play by Young Jean Lee, and we're actually the first production besides the world premiere, which she starred in herself. I play bass in the show, which is cool because (a) it's not a stringed thing I usually play, and I've had fun diving into it more, and (b) the band is a pretty central part of the show in a way that most "pit bands" are not, even though we're not necessarily "acting" either.

I've been describing it to my friends as a "delightful funny rock n' roll cabaret about death and suffering," which is to say, it goes to some pretty dark places, but it's also fun and entertaining and insightful and moving and totally worth seeing (not just because I'm in it — although obviously, that helps).

WGBH's Arts Editor Jared Bowen agrees:

And, well, so does the audience:

The show runs at Oberon in Harvard Square through April 29, followed by some "tour dates" in May throughout Massachusetts and Rhode Island.

A musical memorial to Mama Cooter

This is the last text that I ever sent to Layne.

We had that creepy Campari clown hanging in our apartment junior year of college. Not because any of us drank Campari then (I do now), but because we found it in the trash on Beacon Hill and it had a frame, so we figured, why not? 

But Layne hated it. That clown creeped her the hell out. Still, she let it stay, and it became a running joke with us.

I don't know if she ever saw that text of her hated clown painting, or if she had already died from complications with diabetes by the time I sent it.

Here's a song I wrote when we were living together in 2007, and she was hospitalized for the same thing.

It's called "Electric Lights."

The selfish unawareness of
a window painted blue
electric lights that won't reflect,
but sound so clearly overdue

It permeates the smell of
sanitation and
of jaundice under skin that

has been peeled away
by saline soldiers,
crawling on their knees
across a bridge of gather lives;
maybe this time

she'll sound so much better
in this sweater than this dress
that leaves her back exposed
so all the coldest air can make a nest

All the stabbing
All the dripping
All the fevers and the cries
And poorly picked out tiles on the wall
have watched a million maidens die
underneath electric lights

She's so mixed up
like metaphors
it's better for her.
So when all
the shallow echoes fall
and settle in her cheeks
she's still demanding
all that I can V.

My latest comic book, "iCthulhu," is now on sale!

Grayhaven Comics' latest anthology issue, The Gathering: Sci-Fi Volume 3 is now on sale, and features a short sci-fi action comic by me and my good friend Dave Ganjamie!

Dave and I were bouncing ideas around when he made the intentionally-absurd suggestion of doing a "Futuristic Lovecraftian steampunk horror story." I decided to take this challenge literally...and thus, iCthulhu was born!

Our story is just one part of a 48-page anthology featuring tons of great creators, and the whole thing will only cost you $3.50, so what are you waiting for? Buy it before it becomes a rare and valuable collector's item!

A little sneak peek at Dave's awesome artwork...

What's more romantic than spending Valentine's Day hearing me perform bad songs I wrote as a teen?

That's right, I'm doing another round of performances for the Boston Chapter of Mortified, showcasing the worst of the worst romantic songs I ever tried to write as an angsty/horny teen.

This year, we're doing 3 different shows — but fair warning, they're all selling out pretty fast!

I wrote a campaign song for Donald Trump. ('cause seriously, he's an asshat) #MakeAmericaPunkAgain

And if you want to buy the audio...

Lyrics

Maybe if I vote for Donald Trump
I'll finally get to be
a big ol' billionaire bank bastard
eating wagyu and the weak. 
Oh, and the gub'mint ain't gon' touch me
if I don't keep money here. 
Lord please let me vote for Donald Trump this year. 

No I never trust authorities
They're always after me
But those cops, they best come runnin' 
when there's black kids on my street. 
We need more rules, but just don't regulate
my shotgun or my beer. 
Lord, please let me vote for Donald Trump this year. 

Oh yes I hate the net-gross paycheck part
that the taxman takes from me. 
No my hard-earned cash ain't goin' 
toward your stupid schools and streets. 
Why should I subsidize the ER trips
for hobos, sluts, and queers? 
Lord, please let me vote for Donald Trump this year. 

I deserve every right and resource
That the world has given me. 
Not like all them other takers
full of laziness and greed
Ban all the brown-skinned Muslim terrorists, 
we'll have nothing left to fear! 
Lord, please let me vote for Donald Trump this year.

Post-Turkeypocalypse

Ambling sloth-like through the wasteland, breathing in a noxious haze of tryptophan and sickly sweet liquor, I plod past the pestilent pond of porcelain piled high in endless pillars, towards the puddles of putrid fat liquidized and pooling on the plates, once poured steaming over broken bones now dripping down the drain while the last vestiges of flesh hang threadbare off that osseous matter. Small hands have left their mark behind them, stained and sliding down the wall as if grasping for some invisible rungs to rescue them from wrath. Meanwhile, that gelatinous glob of congealed red mass continues to vellicate on the floor, a ceaseless tremor that suggests its sentience. Yet somehow, the empty glass and glasses have survived the slaughter mostly intact, only weathered and worn by overuse though now dirty, discarded and disheveled down among the grateful undead whose virile corpses litter the living room furniture until such time tomorrow that consumption might continue.

Q: Is Now The Right Time To Talk About Gun Control?

A: YES YES A MILLION TIMES YES.

People are dying at alarming rates, and we're still having the same debate we've been having for over 100 years now. Our current laws are unambiguously failing and yet NRA lobbyists have managed to make it illegal for government scientists to study gun-related violence. Time and time again, data continues to disprove any connection between mental illness and violent crimes — and in fact, gun violence is a major contributor to the suicide epidemic, the tenth highest cause of death in the United States.

(admittedly, there are major problems with the way we address and deal with mental health, but it is separate from issues of gun control)

So let's stop deflecting from the fact that our country engenders a culture of gun violence. Let's break the NRA's stronghold on politics and find a way to enact firearm regulations that actually work.

And let's do it NOW.

Write to your lawmakers — and refuse to re-elect anyone who refuses to act in the best interests of the country.

And if you're somehow still not convinced? Here's what happened when I got my gun license, and how that process compared to my actual prescription medicine.

Happy Autumn Equinox — now here's an Ode to Candy Corn!

rounded wax wedges, waning; a tawny
base that tapers towards a soft point
white like tundra, in taste and texture,
bleeding out from burning copper ribs
hardly mellow hardened creme
of candle crops to harvest fat
free treats, a sign of times once pagan-
pluralistic-primal-precocious-pre-
human, uncivilized, re-captured,
re-claimed, costume the dead alive
and turn the season, turn to shovel
handfuls into mouths full of rotting
teeth a special offer, a limited time only
exciting when available but hardly
missed in memories of stomaches
turned to sick, in children as in men
but indulging in each dish we find it
harder to resist the solstice sweets
and let ourselves get lost inside
that sadistic sugar maize

(see also: "It's 'It's decorative gourd season, motherfuckers!' season, motherfuckers" by the inimitable Will Kaufman)

Up and Worthy!

Just a friendly update to show what I've been up to at Upworthy these past few weeks! First, here's a slideshow put together by our Editorial Director, Amy O'Leary, detailing the company's new direction (with the secondary purpose of pre-emptively shutting down your rehashed "clickbait" jokes*):

July 8 2015 — Upworthy Editorial Vision from UpworthyAdmin

While I'm still getting the hang of the system (it's only been 2 weeks, after all), I've still got a few stories up that you can check out. It's mostly coincidence that the subject matter is, well, pretty much right my alley. I've also got a new Official Writer-y Facebook page, if you want to follow all of my (strictly professional!) adventures.

*I can say that, because my own jokes are half the reason that I work there now.

Everything Happens So Much

First of all, sorry for the lack of updates — as you'll see below, things have been pretty crazy 'round these parts.

For one thing, I'm already a week late on announcing my participation in the Clarion Write-a-thon to raise money for the Clarion Writing Workshop at UCSD, which I attended in 2013. I kind of, uhhh, messed up when I was filling out my sponsorship profile, and I meant to write a goal of 800 words a day in pursuit of this novelization that I'm working on. Instead, I accidentally wrote 800 words total for the entire summer. Ah well. Either way! Give me money to give to Clarion!

I've written before about the incredible personal and professional impact of my Clarion experience, which is why I feel so strongly about providing the same opportunities for other young writers. I came away from those 6 weeks not only with some amazing new friendships, but a stronger grasp on my own strengths and faults as a writer, as well as a greater familiarity and confidence in the genre publishing industry as a whole. And while it might not seem a direct correlation, I feel confident in attributing much of my success as a current full-time professional writer to the Clarion Workshop.

Oh. That's the other thing that happened: starting July 1, I will be a full-time salaried staff writer for Upworthy.com. "Isn't that that click-bait-y website with all the happy liberal stuff?" you might ask, in which case, well, you're not entirely off the mark. But in truth, Upworthy does tremendous promoting and supporting numerous progressive causes, campaigns, and charities, and getting their stuff in front of millions of eyeballs every month (also, they've all-but-sworn-off the "click-bait-y" stuff in the last 2 years, after indirectly creating an Internet monster out of it). They're going through a bit of a renaissance right now as well, part of which involves a shift towards more original storytelling and content, which is where I come in. The specifics of my storytelling work is still in their formative stages, but suffice to say that it's a very, very, very exciting time to be a part of the company, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

(also fun fact: Upworthy themselves have never, ever, ever used the click-bait-y headline suffix, "...you won't believe what happens next," despite the fact that that's the thing that everyone thinks about when they think about Upworthy and clickbait and whatnot) (also also, I'd argue that "clickbait" refers specifically to misleading links that are gravely lacking in content, whereas Upworthy has simply mastered the art of Vague But Intriguing Headlines That Compel You To Click and actually have good content on the other side to backup what they're saying) (also also also, this is genuinely me saying this, and not just the company line)

Finally, there was...I swear there was something else, something...cool, some good reason why I've been mostly MIA and why I'm still a week behind on the write-a-thon and —

OH! That's right. I got married. So, ya know. I guess that's kinda cool.

Photo credit: Bethany & Dan

This Is The Creative Process

I love these Grant Snider cartoons.

A Louisiana Literacy Test For Black Voters, Circa 1960

You have 10 minutes, and if you got one answer wrong, then sorry, you can't vote today.

Granted, the above test is not explicitly racist. But even the worst apologist can't deny the inherent classism of it. Technically speaking, this test was only administered to voters who couldn't prove a certain level of education. Which is kind of arbitrary, no? That's not like carding someone to buy alcohol. There's no visual indicator of someone's education, is there?

Well, sure, if we consider that education is a privilege, not a right, one that is much more easily accessible to people of a certain class. And in Louisiana in the 1960s, most of those people "of a certain class" were of a certain pigment as well...

(and hey, don't get me wrong: there a lot of dumb people in this country, and that they have a voice in our so-called democracy could be seen as an impediment on progress. But as appealing as it sounds to oppress those faces, suddenly your progressivism borders eerily on fascism...)

Queen Elizabeth I's Irish Language Primer

It's a fairly well-known fact that the British empire all but obliterated the Irish language. But at some point in the 1560s, Queen Elizabeth I decided that having a few words of the Irish might come in handy with the whole let's-conquer-the-whole-damn-island-and-convert-all-the-heathens-to-Protestantism thing, and so she recruited an Anglo-Irish nobleman named Christopher Nugent to put together a basic guidebook for her to use when trying to speak with the savage inhabitants of the island. Some of the pages from this document (seen below) remain in the collection of the Dublin Institute for Advanced Studies, and are one of the oldest known attempts at translation between Irish, English, and Latin.

Clearly, it's kind of weird to be talking about Great Britain on St. Padraig's Day, but I thought this was a fun way of sharing some basic Irish words and phrases with all 3 of my loyal website followers. 'Cause who knows — it might come in handy if you're, I don't know, trying to communicate in code in order to protect yourself from a corrupt government. So here you go!

And to top it off, here's some Irish tunes that I've recorded over the years, for St. Paddy's Day enjoyment. Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh!

Plus a few poems I've written for the occasion...

Oh, and one last thing...

Alejandro & the Fame at the Cantab Lounge!

That's right folks, everyone's favorite all-male hard rock Lady Gaga (+ other female pop artists) cover band returns to Boston — this Thursday night at the Cantab Lounge in Cambridge! Be there, or be having less fun than the rest of us.

And here's a little taste of the tunes...

Was George Washington Actually Transgender?

...No, probably not, because this is clearly just a political smear campaign, but still. I guess it's nice then that whoever wrote this piece of propaganda was kind enough to misgender him at least. That's something, right?

A discovery has been made on this continent that will astonish the whole world. Our great and excellent General Washington is actually discovered to be of the female sex. This important secret was revealed by the lady who lived with the General as a wife these 30 years, and died the 6th instant at the General's seat in Virginia, to the Clergyman who attended her.

What is extraordinary, the last knew his circumstance previous to the ceremony of marriage, and both agreed to live together from motives of the most refined friendship. Perhaps there are fewer influences in female nature of such rigid charity than of manly fortitude.

Anyway, happy (almost) birthday, Mr. President. Er, can I say that?

Make-Your-Own Superhero Movie, MAD LIBS-style

It's only funny 'cause it's true. Welcome back to the MCU, Spider-Man!