Iron Fist: The Living Weapon #8

Over a year ago I visited Iron Fist: The Living Weapon. Being a working stiff has a way of distracting a person. Last weekend I returned to the title -- both the writing and the art supplied by Canadian powerhouse Kaare Andrews -- and got weepy reading issue #8. Danny Rand, a.k.a., Iron Fist, journeys to Diyu, the realm of the dead, to rescue his mother.

If the superhero is a nihilist fantasy of autogenesis, what does that mean for the mother? A couple weeks back I mentioned that the superhero comic book is a way for the adolescent to come to grips with the absorption of his childhood into the adult world. An example of this is the Batman origin tale, in which the primary event is the street stickup murder of Bruce Wayne's parents. Iron Fist's origin is a variation on this with a conniving, lustful business partner standing in for the stickup man, and the location, rather than the dark streets of a Depression-era Gotham, is the snowy, icy peaks leading to the mystical city of K'un L'un.

In the six scans below, Iron Fist fights his way through the demons of Diyu to find his mother. But when he tells her, "Come on. Let's go." She declines. There is no going back.

Iron Fist: The Living Weapon #6

I took a vacation day on Thursday for a couple of reasons, the foremost of which was that I had to renew my driver's license; the other -- it was the National Football League season opener, played here in the Emerald City, home to the Super Bowl Champion Seahawks, and I wanted to be comfortably resting in front of my small color TV at 5:30 PM PST for the kickoff instead of braving the perils of a homeward bound post-work commute on a train packed to overflowing with football fans.

I flunked my vision exam at the Department of Licensing. I was unable to identify a single character. The DOL agent who was evaluating me thought I was doing something wrong with the machine. She reprimanded me for not placing my forehead firmly on the viewing pad. When I tried again and failed again she printed out an evaluation form for me to take to an ophthalmologist. That was it. Out the door I went without a driver's license renewal. Now it is into the maw of the health industrial complex to be fitted for eyeglasses.

But the rest of the vacation day afternoon was pleasant. I went for a long run around Lake Union at midday. There is something about running under the sun in the middle of the day that is truly unique.

The late summer weather was pristine. Passersby wore Seahawks jerseys. There were also a few Cheesehead tourists sporting Packers gear.

I returned home and, after a warm-down stretch, began to cramp up in my right leg, something which is a frequent occurrence since I injured my left foot in May. Foot pain on the left prompts overuse of the right leg. The foot is getting better but very slowly. Some days it feels better and then others I feel like I am right back to where I was when I first injured it.

I took a few aspirin, reclined on my mattress on the floor and relaxed by reading Iron Fist: The Living Weapon #6. This is one of the tremendous All-New Marvel NOW! titles. For anyone who worried that Disney ownership would lead to a dumbing down of Marvel, All-New Marvel NOW! should allay those fears.

Both writer and artist of Iron Fist: The Living Weapon is Kaare Kyle Andrews. I think Iron Fist: The Living Weapon is the best superhero title out right now. It reminds me of Jim Steranko and Paul Gulacy in their prime.

My vision shot, my feet and legs a wreck, unable to eat hardly any salt without experiencing unsettling arrhythmia, my teeth going, I understand how a wounded and convalescing Danny Rand, a.k.a., Iron Fist feels in the scans below. He is approached sexually by a beautiful but now blind childhood friend from the mystical city of K'un Lun, which has just been razed by a baleful cybernetic reincarnation of his dead father.

In his ruined state he is flabbergasted as to how to react to such carnal advances.  -- Hey, I can understand that. Here is his self-analysis from the second-to-last scan:

You're Powerless. 

Chi -- drained, cut off from the source. 

Your iron hands -- broken. 

The city that raised you -- fallen into ruins. 

The men who you called father -- corrupted and desecrated. 

All the things that define who you are -- destroyed. 

And yet you survive. 

Daniel Rand, you've been here before and you know exactly what to do.

Often times I find myself weeping when I read comic books. I don't know why. I think it has something to do with accessing a type of consciousness, a kernel of the mind that is prior to all the outer layers of socialization and learned behavior and all that. This beginner's mind is filled not so much with awe and wonder as it is a peaceful sadness.

And that is something to cry about.

Iron Patriot #2

Marvel has a slew of new titles, nearly all of which are impressive. They are being published under the heading "All-New Marvel NOW!" These are tremendous, fresh comic books. The new titles include, to name a few, Charles Soule's She-Hulk, The Punisher by Nathan Edmondson and Mitch Gerads and the gorgeous, stunning Iron Fist: The Living Weapon by Kaare Andrews.

Another standout is Iron Patriot, Marvel's reclamation of the baleful Norman Osborn superhero persona from the Dark Reign cycle (which, if you ask me, is the high point for Marvel of the last six years, an appropriate cap to the Civil War and Secret Invasion crossover events). James Rhodes, a.k.a., Rhodey, Tony Stark's Friday, dons the Iron Patriot armor at the behest of S.H.I.E.L.D.

I have never followed a title that Rhodey appeared in other as a cut-out character, part of a larger super-group. James Rhodes was introduced after I had for the most part given up on reading comic books. He is a manifestation of the late Bronze Age, and one of the defining achievements for Marvel at the time -- his association with Iron Man while Tony Stark struggled with alcoholism, I mean -- along with Frank Miller's rejuvenation of the Daredevil title. Rhodey is most commonly known as War Machine, a more military-oriented Iron Man; he is now played by Don Cheadle in the movies, though I much preferred Terrence Howard in the role.

In any event, Iron Patriot is ably written by the energetic Ales Kot, whose work on Secret Avengers I was impressed with. But the real eye-opener of Iron Patriot is Garry Brown's art and Jim Charalampidis's colors. Below you will find ten scans from Iron Patriot #2. To me, this is fine art. It reminds us of the lesson that art is supposed to impart: "You are free."

Freedom is not a political construct. Freedom is in the mind. Or, put another way, "Prison's in your mind ... Can't you see I'm free?" That's from Charles Manson's statement to the court during the Tate-LaBianca murder trial. Art reminds, or should remind, must aspire to this reminiscence of primordial freedom. In order for civilization to remain vital, to avoid stasis, there must be art. Comic books provide visual art on a mass scale better than any other medium. That is what I am saying.