Showing posts with label not comics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label not comics. Show all posts

Thursday, October 08, 2026

Here are some non-comics books I've read recently:

The Bible: A Global History
(Basic Books; 2024)
I've never really understood the concept of Christian fundamentalism, the idea that the Bible is literally true, and its contents accurately present the inerrant word of God. Even as a child, I realized that there was a plethora of different versions of the Bible available, and that the earliest scriptures weren't written in English, and that therefore before we had ever gotten our first English Bible, someone had to translate the Hebrew and Greek into Latin and then into English. 

When I most recently visited Barnes and Noble, I checked, and I saw that there was a whole section of Bibles, with some two sets of shelving units full of versions to choose from. 

Still, I don't think I had any conception of just how many times the Bible has been translated before reading Bruce Gordon's The Bible: A Global History. Our English Bibles didn't simply evolve (I can use that word, right?) from one language to another, but they have been translated hundreds of times, into pretty much every language you can think of (and probably some you might not think of), and even the translations into particular languages might be one of many multiple translations, or scores of translations, from various, differing sources. 

"Scribes were not simply copyists," Cameron writes at one point early on, before the printing press enters his history. "They participated in every aspect of preparing the Bible and frequently made editorial choices." And these choices didn't just occur in the Classical or Medieval ages but have continued throughout history. 

Certainly, mistakes were made (One particularly amusing one Cameron notes is the existence of "The Wicked Bible", a 1631 version of the King James Bible that left a "not" out of the Ten Commandments and thus reads "Thou shall commit adultery"). 

At other times, political agendas played a role, as monarchs promoted translations that seemed pro-monarchy and this shading of the text continues today. In his chapter on the Bible in China, Cameron writes, "President Xi Jinping has also shut down many of the autonomous churches and announced plans to have the Bible rewritten to harmonize more favorably with Communist tenets."

Historically, a great deal of care and controversy seems to have gone into what words or names have been used to refer to God, particularly when the Bible first enters new lands in Africa or Asia with their own long-lived spirituality; sometimes, translators would adopt the name of a local deity and you can certainly imagine how that might color the Bible to those early readers.

Now, I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting when I picked this book about the history of the Good Book up. I loved the cover, and the copy on the book cover flap promised "the astounding story of the Bible's journey around the globe and across more than two thousand years, showing how it has shaped and been shaped by changing beliefs and believers' radically different needs."

That story—dealing with the impacts of the Bible on different parts of the world throughout recorded history—would obviously take more than the book's 440 pages to tell and, in fact, Cameron's book is focused on the history of the Bible itself: Where it came from, how it changed, who changed it and why, and how it was received in new places and in new eras. (And thus it's also a kinda sorta history of the the world over the last millennia, and the history of Christianity, but the focus is on the Bible itself). 

Now, as a casual reader with an interest—but no expertise—in these subjects, I am not the best person to tell you about this book. In all honesty, I sort of struggled with it, reading 10 pages at a time here and there over the course of months. I wouldn't say that it is a slog—Cameron's prose is strong, clear and engaging—but it is an academic work, closer to a text book than a novel, and it is accordingly a bit on the dry side.

I enjoyed the bits of trivia I learned throughout (Did you know Charlemagne had a grandson named Charles The Bald? Or that there's a version of the Bible called The Devil's Bible because it features a portrait of Satan in it, and is rumored to have been written by a monk in a single night after he sold his soul to the devil for the ability to do so...and the promise to include the Evil One's picture? What about the Bug Bible, or the Treacle Bible, the latter so named by people making fun of their specific word choice?*).

The story is compelling enough, but I don't know that I would be quick to recommend the book to anyone...not even the Caleb of a few months ago, who pulled it off the library shelf. 

Among all that trivia, I marked a quote about how awesome books are and hard writing is made by a scribe. Cameron seems to have taken this quote from Stephen Fussel and company's 2016 Taschen book The Book of Bibles: The Most Beautiful Illuminated Bibles of The Middle Ages.

O, you lucky reader, before you touch a book, wash your hands, turn the pages carefully and keep your fingers well away from the letters! For someone unable to write cannot imagine what an immense labor it is.

I mean, I don't think it's that immense a labor—It beats digging ditches! And/or any other job I've ever had!—but then, I started with pencils, pens and paper, before moving on to a word processor and computer, and never had to deal with ink, quills and vellum. That said, I'm all for respecting books (also, telling someone to wash their hands and turn pages carefully sounds like what I would tell my nieces or nephews before I let them touch a comic). And non-writers valuing the work of writers.

Then there's this bit:

Oh how hard is writing; it blurs the eyes, squeezes the kidneys, and tortures every limb. Only three fingers write, but the whole body suffers.

 I mean, my kidneys seem fine, but then, I am pounding this out on a laptop in a coffee shop lit with electric light, rather than gripping a quill or stylus and writing by hand. 

You know what would torture every limb and make the whole body suffer even more than transcribing the Bible? Drawing comics. Ask any cartoonist how their, neck elbow and wrist feels at the end of the day.



The Bible Says So: What We Get Right (and Wrong) About Scripture's Most Controversial Issues (St. Martin's Essentials; 2025) This book's format makes it an interesting, useful and rather easy read. After an introduction and a chapter entitled "How Did We Get the Bible?", briefly explaining how the collection of diverse ancient writings gradually, eventually came to be regarded as a single book, The Bible Says So is broken up into eighteen relatively short chapters, the subject of each telegraphed by its mildly provocative title. 

These include chapters like "The Bible Says the Bible Is Inspired", "The Bible Says God Created the Universe Out of Nothing", "The Bible Says God Lies" and so on. Author Dan McClellan then addresses whether or not the statement in the chapter name is true or not. Those answers tend to be counter-intuitive, generally involving a "Yes, but" or "Yes, and" (Or "No, but" or "No, and") sort of answer than anything too terribly simple. 

The back-flap bio refers to McClellan as "an award-winning public scholar of the Bible", and he seems to be something of an academic-turned-social media influencer. He previously worked as an adjunct instructor of ancient scriptures at Brigham Young University and a scripture translation supervisor for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, although the bio starts with his social media follower count ("more than a million") and mentions his Data Over Dogma podcast (The cover refers to "TikTok's Data Over Dogma...I don't know, I only listen to a single podcast and have so far managed to avoid ever looking at TikTok). 

This bifurcated background apparently helps him to speak with a great deal of authority when it comes to talking about the original scripture, which often means referring to the definitional meanings of the Hebrew or Greek words the authors of particular passages chose to provide insight on what the English translations now say and why, as well as engaging with folks that aren't Biblical scholars themselves. 

In other words, The Bible Says So is very much written for a general audience, but the book makes clear that McClellan would also be fine in a discussion with academics, rather than arguing with people on social media about what the number of the beast from the Book of Revelation might mean, and whether or not the makers of Monster energy drinks have hidden it in plain sight on their cans (Um, they did not, at least according to chapter 18, "The Bible Says to Beware the Mark of the Beast"). 

As for the particular subjects, McClellan seems to have chosen them because each seems to be something that would likely be of interest to believers as well as non-believers. There are a few rather heady theological chapters ("The Bible Says There is Only One God", "The Bible Says Jesus is God"), a few that address Christian precepts as they've been understood over the last millennium or so rather than what the Bible actually says on the matter in question ("The Bile Says Satan Is God's Enemy", "The Bible Says Sinners Will Be Punished Forever in Hell") and a few that are just there because they sound so intriguing ("The Bible Says God Has a Wife", "The Bible Says God Has a Body").

Perhaps the most compelling chapters are those that address the way society has used the Bible to address various issues, like "The Bible Says Slavery Is Wrong", "The Bible Says Rape Victims Must Marry Their Rapists", "The Bible Says You Should Beat Your Kids" and so on.

Let's look at what are probably the two biggest subjects covered in the book that are currently impacting modern American society, "The Bible Says Abortion Is Murder" and "The Bible Says Homosexuality Is an Abomination." 

If you came of age at in the 1980s or at any point since, there's a good chance that all you know of modern American Christianity is that it's 1.) anti-abortion and 2.) anti-gay (Perhaps especially if you weren't raised within a particular religious background). Afterall, in the cable news era (and, later, the social media era), the only "Christians" who ever seem to be given a mic have used whatever national attention they received to inveigh against one of those two things, and the politicians who have most loudly declared themselves Christians only seemed to care about these things...and perhaps the occasional dumb culture war issue, like whether Christmas was being celebrated correctly or not.

Of course, even a passing familiarity with the Bible will reveal that abortion and sexual orientation—the latter of which McClellan convincingly argues would not have been understood to even exist in the ancient world in which the Bible was composed—aren't things Jesus offered an opinion on. Nor were they even on his radar, as he never mentions either in the four gospels (He does talk an awful lot about helping the poor and oppressed though, and about how one should treat others—including, presumably, gay people—as one would like to be treated themselves, not that his loudest modern followers ever seem to mention the things Jesus actually says). 

If you want to find passages of the Bible addressing abortion or same-sex intercourse, you have to go looking to ancient Old Testament legal codes like those in Leviticus (most of which Christians choose to ignore, generally just cherry-picking the parts that they think justify them being mean to gay folks) or the letters of Paul (who another book in this post stresses is not Jesus), letters that also say a whole lot of things that many Christians choose to ignore (Like, McClellan says Paul thought the world was ending so soon that no one should bother having children and should instead practice celibacy; marriage, Paul thought, was only for folks who couldn't properly control their sexual urges, and was merely a socially-acceptable way to have pressure valve-like sexual intercourse to keep one from becoming a sex maniac).

The chapter on abortion begins with McClellan discussing the origins of the Christian Right in the aftermath of 1973's Roe v. Wade ruling. In his brief telling, evangelicals like Jerry Falwell and Paul Weyrich spent years travelling the country and "ginning up outrage" over abortion, part of a plan to make evangelicals a political force in American politics, with the ultimate goal of preventing the government from forcing evangelical universities from accepting Black students...! (Is this true? McLellan's verbiage is a little careful here, as he writes, "Scholars have unearthed documentation that seems to indicate..."). 

Anyway, in his telling Falwell and company needed to find a Biblical argument about abortion in order to oppose it, as there didn't then exist a religious tradition of opposition. 

McClellan then addresses an Instagram post from 2021 (there are a lot, perhaps too many, references to social media arguments in the book), that read, "Abortion is only mentioned once in the Bible—Numbers 5:21—where it provides instructions on how to perform one." McClellan examines the passage but knocks down the suggestion that it's actually referring to an abortion. 

As for abortion being wrong, its opponents seemed to settle on a line of argumentation that murdering or killing an innocent person is wrong, a fetus is an innocent person and is murdered or killed during an abortion and therefore abortion is murder. 

Of course, that all hinges on when a fetus is considered "a person" and here McClellan visits several Bible quotes and stories abortion opponents have frequently used, as well as laws in the Bible regarding miscarriage. As he often does in the book, he doesn't merely consult the Bible but also refers to other writings and beliefs in the time and place of the Bible's writing, and the answer of whether or not abortion is murder basically comes down to when a soul inhabits a fetus, and here we're getting pretty philosophical...more so than any authority in the Bible ever did. 

McClellan concludes that the Bible does not actually say that abortion is murder. The Hebrew Bible (that is, what Christians would call "the Old Testament") seems to indicate that a fetus becomes a person at birth, he says, and that, under the influence of "Greco-Roman society and Greek philosophy", that position shifted, so that, by the time of the New Testament writings, people believed "human ensoulment" began at "the quickening", or when a mother can start to feel the baby moving around. This, according to Google and a few mothers I texted, is somewhere between 16 and 22 weeks.

Okay, maybe that was enough of a rabbit hole, but there's no word limit on blogging, so let's look closely at the chapter on whether homosexuality is an abomination or not, too.

This chapter is a bit more complicated, and involves translations from Greek (including a term that Paul, or whoever wrote particular letters under that name, invented) and repeated reference to "the insertive role" in sex.

The bottom line, though?

Writes McClellan: 
The problems are even bigger if the English word "homosexuals" is understood according to the word's primary sense as a reference to people who identify as having a homosexual orientation. That would expand the scope even further, roping in people who may identify as homosexual who have only ever had heterosexual intercourse, or who have never had any type of sexual intercourse at all. That's clearly not what Paul is saying. He couldn't have been saying that. The concept of a sexual orientation as we understand it today has only developed since the nineteenth century CE. In the ancient world, they organized their understanding of human sexuality far differently, so the notion that Paul was referring to people with a homosexual orientation is a flagrantly anachronistic category error. Rendering "homosexuals" in this passage [1 Corinthians 6:9] is pure and utter nonsense.

So, we already have part of the answer to the question in the title of this chapter. The Bible cannot possibly be saying homosexuality as a reference to sexual orientation is an abomination because the concept of sexual orientation didn't exist at the time in any way that remotely resembles the way we think about them today. But the Bible does have things to say about same-sex intercourse. Does it say that's an abomination? That's a longer discussion. 
Now, as I've mentioned here and there over the course of the last 20 years, I was raised Catholic and actually attended Catholic schools from kindergarten to college. While I've gotten all my sacraments, whether or not I "practice" (that is, go to church) has varied over the years, often depending on what's going on in my personal life, what the Church is up to itself and sometimes something as simple as my work schedule. 

In the '80s and '90s, we didn't really discuss homosexuality in my school's religion classes (which tended to focus on Jesus and his teachings...you know, Christian stuff, rather than random lines from Leviticus or Paul's letter to the Romans), but I do remember at one point understanding the official line was that being gay wasn't a sin, but acting on that orientation was; that is, if you were born gay, there's nothing you could have done about it and that isn't wrong, but if you have gay sex? Well, that's a different story.

Reading this chapter, that was on my mind a lot, as it's not hard to see how many smart Christian thinkers could come up with that argument, and feel like it was a compassionate resolution to what they found in scripture.

McClellan here discusses sexuality vs. the practice of sex, why two men having sex with one another might be considered a deviation of the natural order among people who also thought a woman being on top of a man during intercourse was wrong, the story of Sodom and Gomorrah and the half-dozen references to same-sex intercourse in the Bible (Again, mostly in Leviticus and in some of Paul's letters). 

He doesn't mention it in this chapter, but personally, I've always thought it weird to put too much stock in what the Bible might say about sexual relations anyway, given that women were considered barely human in Biblical times, the patriarchs practiced polygamy, adultery was a grave sin (note that cheating is covered in the Ten Commandments, but not same-sex intercourse), that Jesus forbade divorce and lust, and the very concept of the modern Christian marriage, of one man marrying one woman out of romantic love in order to produce children in a family unit, is every bit as foreign to the Bible as the idea of two gay people getting married is. 

But again, I grew up being taught that Jesus was a radically non-violent teacher preaching care for the poor and oppressed and treating others as you yourself would want to be treated.

Anyway, while I didn't always appreciate McClellan's framing of the topics he covered—too many, I thought, seemed to revolve around arguments he's had online, suggesting he was using his book to retroactively win those—and I didn't usually find his newspaper editor-style glib "joke" headings funny (I'll give an example below), this is a very engaging read. 

The many short chapters, and how efficiently McClellan addresses the topics, make it a very easy read, the sort of book you can put down and pick up at will without missing or losing anything. And if you want weightier scholarship, more pointed attacks on the modern misuses of the Bible or to go deeper into the scriptures and stories, well, there are plenty of books on the Bible out there; this one is, I think, a great starting point for anyone interested, though.

I should also note that McClellan doesn't get too crazy with his subject matter, generally addressing the more relevant questions about what exactly the Bible says (In this regard, the questions of God's body or wife are probably the only real outliers).  He doesn't, in other words, get into the really crazy stuff, like if there are unicorns in the Bible (there are in the King James version, but not later ones), or UFOs in the Bible (I don't think so, but UFO believers have favorite passages), or dinosaurs in the Bible (Again, I don't think so, but there are lines to cherry-pick), or if fallen angels or other gods mated with humans before the flood (It sure sounds like it, but non-canonical writings offer the most detail).

But keep reading this post, and we'll get to a book on one of those questions...!

Oh, and I was a little surprised to find that there was actually a comic book connection in this book. The chapters, short as most of them are, often get further broken up by bold headings, signaling a sub-section on the main topic. Sometimes these headings are purely descriptive ("A Brief History of the Bible", "Can the Bible talk about the Bible?", "The Other Serpent", etc.). Often, they are allusions to pop culture, complete with an asterisk explaining the reference.

So, for example, the chapter "The Bible Says God Has a Wife" includes a heading that reads "Yahweh's Got Nards!*", and, along the bottom of the page, it reads, "With apologies to the creators of The Monster Squad (1987)." Or in the chapter on abortion, there's a heading reading, "More Human Than Human*", and the note reads, "With apologies to White Zombie." And so on.

In the chapter "The Bible Says You Should Beat Your Kids" (Aside: Do not beat your kids), there's a heading reading "This Is Going To Hurt You A Lot More Than It Does Me*", and at the bottom of the page, it reads, "With apologies to the creators of Batman #427."

Those creators are, of course, writer Jim Starlin, pencil artist Jim Aparo and inker Mike DeCarlo, and that issue, you will likely recall, was part two of the seminal "A Death in the Family" story arc. The "This is going to hurt you..." line is what The Joker tells Jason Todd before he picks up a crowbar and proceeds to beat him with it. 


The Real Story of Dinosaurs and Dragons: Science Sets the Fossil Record Straight (Feral House; 2025) Dinosaurs. Dragons. Mythology. The Bible. Creationism. Cryptozoology. The idea of human beings and dinosaurs co-existing. These are some of my favorite things to read about, so Philip J. Senter's book, a slim, 230-ish page volume that demolishes the "creationist fantasies" that there are dinosaurs in the Bible and that dragon legends are all based on real-life encounters with living, fire-breathing dinosaurs, could hardly be more up my alley. 

If I have a criticism of Senter's book, it is that it lacks an introduction, where he might have laid out precisely what the book is about: The problem it is addressing, why doing so is important and how he intends to attack it...and I personally wouldn't have minded hearing a little bit more about Senter, his interest in the subject matter, his expertise in the relevant subjects and how exactly his book came about. 

Instead, it starts immediately with chapter one, "Dawn of the Dragon", a quick four pages devoted to where dragons came from (they were initially snakes in ancient Greek and Rome, one of the Greek words for snake being "drákōn" using the Roman alphabet). And then chapter two, "Monsters Unearthed", about 18th and 19th century efforts to make sense of the fossil bones of dinosaurs and other extinct, prehistoric reptiles. It is therefore not until chapter three, "A Twisted Roar," about 30 pages into the book, that its subject actually begins to take shape.

If, like me, you just saw the book's cover and started reading, it would therefore take a few chapters before you knew exactly what you were going to be reading about (Although, if you read the back cover copy, I suppose that wouldn't be an issue; me, I just saw the words "Dinosaurs" and "Dragons" and started reading, as those are two things I like to read books about, regardless of the exact take on the subjects). 

It is at this point that the book takes shape though. 

Around the time that Sir Richard Owen was coining the term "Dinosaur", and European scientists were confronting ideas like extinction, deep time and eventually evolution, there was obvious friction between these concepts and Christianity. 

Creationism is the idea that the Bible is the inerrant word of God, and every word of it is therefore literally true, including the myths of Genesis like God personally creating the world, the seven-day timeline for him doing so, the simultaneous emergence of all land animals, the deluge and, extrapolating from the later genealogy of Jesus and other clues, a 6,000-ish year total lifespan of the Earth.

By chapter five, we're in the 1970s and the emergence of modern Creationism (there's nuance within Creationism, but Senter doesn't spend much time on that, and I won't do so here either). Essentially, there emerged a movement among some religious fundamentalist to prove the reality of the stories in the Book of Genesis, believers perhaps thinking that if they could offer incontrovertible evidence of their veracity, it would therefore serve as proof for the whole Bible, which I guess, in this line of thinking, would thus prove Christianity a more compelling faith to skeptics and non-believers...? And simultaneously cause everyone to throw out scientific concepts of geology and evolution...?

For some reason, the Holy Grail of this movement is evidence that dinosaurs and humanity lived side by side, as they surely must have if a) dinosaurs were real and b) Genesis is literally true. 

I honestly don't really get this line of thinking—if we found a living dinosaur in the Congo tomorrow, I can't imagine scientists declaring the theory of evolution suddenly null and void or mass conversions to Christianity—but I've long been fascinated with it anyway, mostly because the idea of relict dinosaurs is awesome.

And so, Creationists have interpreted various mentions of serpents and monsters in the Bible as references to dinosaurs and other Mesozoic creatures, as unlikely as such a reading might be, and they  also looked to worldwide folklore about dragons as additional circumstantial evidence that dinosaurs and humanity must have once co-existed...and gone so far as to suggest that maybe some dinosaurs even breathed fire, as a way to explain why the dragons of legend did so (This is why it was important for Senter to note that the concept of the dragon gradually emerged from that of the snake or serpent; similarly, the idea of their breathing fire emerged from the venomous nature of many snakes or the ancient idea of "breathing fire" as a metaphor for causing harm).

And they've also glommed on to any ancient art they can find that might seem to suggest someone somewhere had once seen a living dinosaur, like the presence of the sirrush on the ancient Babylonian Ishtar Gate alongside other, inarguably real animals. ("Evidence" of the co-existence of dinosaurs and humanity that I was familiar with from reading about cryptozoology in the past.)

Here, Senter basically sets-up various suggestions, theories and supposed evidence of the Creationists, and then immediately knocks them down, and does so for the rest of the book. Some of this honestly gets a little tedious. 

There's a section on chemically dating fossils that was far more science-y than I was interested in, for example. And chapter eight, "Fire-Breathing Dinosaurs?", discusses the biological impossibility of a living thing producing fire without badly burning and/or blowing itself up in the process. It does so by running through six different "fire-production" hypotheses and four different "functional morphology" hypotheses, which all fall into a predictable, repetitive formula of a) Here's what they say b) Is it possible? c) No. 

I found the last few chapters, in which Senter looks at particular passages from the Bible and explains what they were actually referring to, as opposed to accounts of living dinosaurs, much more compelling. Similarly, I enjoyed the survey of history and folklore on the idea of dragons, and the examination of dinosaur-like creatures in ancient art. 

Senter has an amusing habit of mentioning the profession and credentials of various Creationists while discussing something they have said, noting that one is an electrician by training, for one example, or that another has a doctorate...but it's in dentistry. This can seem a little like a passive-aggressive way of dismissing their supposed expertise in matters of biology and geology. 

Of course, Sentel is, according to the back cover copy, a professor of zoology at Fayetteville State University with degrees in biological sciences and theology. He therefore seems well credentialed to write on the subject of how no, there aren't actually dinosaurs in the Bible and that of course humans and dinosaurs never co-existed, and I can't really blame him for wanting to twist the rhetorical knife that he sticks in what are essentially interested amateurs with agendas when they attempt to interpret areas of his expertise. 

While I can't honestly say that I loved every chapter and every paragraph of his book, I'm glad Sentel wrote it, and I was happy to read it. In fact, I fairly devoured it.  


Separation of Church and Hate: A Sane Person's Guide to Taking Back the Bible from Fundamentalists, Fascists, and Flock-Fleecing Frauds (Avid Reader Press; 2025) I was giving a work friend a ride home one night, and she saw this book sitting on my passenger seat. She asked if I listened to author John Fugelsang's podcast, as she recognized his name. Apparently, her mom is a fan. 

I do not. I had no idea who Fugelsang was when I picked up the book. Instead, I was drawn in by the clever title (which I'm actually kind of surprised hasn't been used before), the bold colors and the great cover design. That was enough to interest me in a book on a subject that I am obviously already interested in (see the The Bible Says So above, which covers similar ground, albeit in a less acerbic—and less funny—way). 

As I would later discover, Fugelsang is a comedian, actor, broadcaster, host and all-around media personality. This explains why there were so many blurbs from so many diverse celebrities on the back cover (Willie Nelson, Nick Offerman, Patton Oswalt, Jon Cryer, etc.) and, of course, why so much of the book is so funny.

The long-ass sub-title explains the gist of the book. It is fifteen chapters each devoted to a fairly broad subject of a true or real form of Christianity (that is, following the words and teaching of Christ) vs. what passes for "Christianity" in politics and the media these days. The titles of these give you a pretty good sense of what Fugelsang covers:  "An Inconvenient Jew", "Paul, Jesus's PR Man, Who Is Not Jesus" and "Master-Race Christians Of The Twenty-First Century, And How To Debate Them". 

Most of them take the "Thou Shall Not" form of a commandment, though, such as "Thou Shalt Not Take All Of This Too Literally", "Thou Shall Not Hate The Gays", "Thou Shalt Not Kill People Who Kill People To Prove Killing People Is Wrong" and so on, with only one of them be a "Thou Shalt" imperative rather than a "Thou Shalt Not"; that is "Thou Shalt Let Go Of Thy Hang-Ups.")

The book begins with a great 18-page introduction in which Fugelsang tells his own story, which gives him a degree of authority to speak on matters of organized religion...and makes for a decent argument about following the spirit of the faith more than the rules. 

"I'm here because two people broke a promise to God," is the first sentence of the book. He then goes on to explain that his mother became a nun and his father a Franciscan brother, both of them pretty much right out of high school. Despite their plans for their respective lives, they met, became friends, fell in love and eventually left their vocations to marry and have kids.

They didn't leave their faith, however, and Fugelsang writes:
I was taught—relentlessly—that Christianity was about the things Jesus prioritized: Service to others. Forgiveness. Caring for the poor, the sick, the stranger, the prisoner. Fighting injustice with nonviolence, like Dr. King and Gandhi. Standing up for the less fortunate, like Dorothy Day and Catholic Charities. Love. Empathy. Compassion. And go wash your hands, we're leaving for Mass in five minutes.
Of his parents, he wrote that, "My parents presented as Republicans, identified as Independents, and lived like closeted Democrats."

While I was raised in the Catholic church, my parentage was nowhere nearly as dramatic as his. But there is a point in his backstory that resonated with me.

After noting that, while growing up, he had no idea what Roe v. Wade was, nor that abortion was "splitting and redefining American Christianity", he eventually found himself exposed to many interviews with men on the news who were introduced as "Christian leaders."
But these Christians didn't talk about helping the poor, welcoming the stranger, or fighting injustice. They never mentioned the evils of racism. They didn't quote scripture to justify the need for all of us to take care of the least of us.

...

These right-wing Christian media stars preached the virtue of forcing poor pregnant women to give birth against their will, that they might experience substantially greater poverty and greater risk to their health. They warned us that any government programs that actually helped the poor were "communist." They expressed outrage at protests against racism, while never denouncing actual racism. They always punched down—always attacking the poor, the addicts, the migrants at the border, and a gay minority they assured me the Bible condemned, somewhere.

...

Watching TV news was the first time I became aware of Christianity as a political force in my country, but it was a Christianity I couldn't understand. I didn't have the words to express it, but it was awkward to be told I was the same religion as these men. 
I didn't start paying attention to the news until some years after Fugelsang, in the later nineties and much more intensely in the '00s, but I had pretty much the same reaction. The public Christianity in the national discourse was anti-abortion, anti-gay, anti-poor, completely aligned with the Republican party...and deeply embarrassing. At least as reflected through the national media, Christianity sure as hell didn't look like a club any decent person would want to be a part of.

It was weird, because pretty much all I was taught about at school and from the pulpits of my church was Jesus and what he said and did, and if all you knew about Christianity was the Golden Rule—"Do unto others as you would have done unto you"—that it was pretty obvious there was something wrong with the version of Christianity on the news. 

It wasn't until I was much older that I understood where things like opposition to homosexuality came from, cherry-picked by bigots from Old Testament law books like Leviticus, every other rule of which those same people conveniently ignored, and the letters of Paul (ditto). The right-wing Christianity of my lifetime seemed to have a lot more to do with the Old Testament, the letters of Paul and, occasionally, the Book of Revelation than what one might expect to be the heart of Christianity, based on the name—you know, Christ.

Fugelsang's chapter on Paul, which, again, is called "Paul, Jesus's PR Man, Who Is Not Jesus", makes that point well. And, like all of the book, does so with a clarity and wit. Though something of a primer on Christianity, how (and sometimes why) it's been perverted by the national far-right and how to successfully argue about particular subjects with friends, co-workers, relatives and anyone else you might wish to engage, Separation of Church and Hate is a fun, funny and overall light read.

I was frankly a bit disappointed that the entire book didn't read exactly like the introduction and some other passages of the book did. Fugelsang is a pretty great writer and is good at telling a story. Still, the book is repeatedly broken into what look like Internet-friendly pieces, like "Five Basic Jesus Facts That Sunday School Missed" (Number three is "Yes, Jesus was a liberal," while number four is "He's kind of conservative, too") or "The Top 3 Right-Wing Arguments About Jesus". There's a lot of parts that begin with a section labeled "The Claim" and then answers it. There are pithy section headers. There are lots of sidebars. And there are some perhaps too-cute pages, which are nevertheless true.

Of this last, one example that come immediately to mind is a page with a border distinguishing it as a sidebar in the chapter "Thou Shalt Let Go of Thy Sex Hang-Ups".

Along the top of the page is a big, bold heading reading, "Everything Jesus Ever Said About Premarital Sex, Birth Control, Gay Sex, Any Form of Sodomy, And/Or Masturbation"

The rest of the page is filled with blank lines (see, he didn't say anything about any of that stuff!), save for the middle, which quotes Matthew 7: 1-2, "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."

(This bit actually reminded me of The Wisdom of Lobo, which was packaged in a 1993 slipcase with Lobo: The Last Czarnian and Lobo's Greatest Hits. It was a completely blank book; an effective gag, but no doubt annoying to those who preordered it, I imagine. I remember hearing a conversation between the guy who ran the Ashtabula comic shop at the time talking to a customer and giving him a discount, as he felt badly about the blank book being included).

I am writing this some months after first reading it, which is not the ideal way to discuss a book. Current Caleb sees that Past Caleb has bookmarked several pages though, so those must be things Past Caleb thought a future Caleb should mention.

•In the chapter on Paul, there's a heading that says simply "God-Breathed", and discusses the fact that since "Jesus doesn't really allow his followers to get away with homophobia and misogyny the way Paul does", "a particular kind of right-wing Christian" needs to find "detours around Jesus" in the Bible, and they landed on giving Paul's letters about Jesus the same authority as the words of Jesus. They do so thanks to passage in one of those letters, 2 Timothy 3:16, which states that "All Scripture is God-breathed." Of course, that introduces a bit of a logic problem, as when Paul wrote those words, his letter wasn't yet considered scripture by anyone. "It's like saying Roger Ebert's review of The Godfather is now officially part of The Godfather's script," Fugelsang writes.

•In the chapter "Master-Race Christians, And How to Debate Them", Fugelsang writes that "the two most dominant forces within right-wing Christianity are fundamentalism and Christian nationalism." Of the latter, he writes that it is "like marching the Bill of Rights and the New Testament out into the woods, at gunpoint, together, and digging two holes." That's some colorful symbolism!

•In "Thou Shalt Not Take All of This Too Literally," Fugelsang shares a quote from author and theologian Keith Giles, one of the many more-expert-than-him-experts he consults throughout. Says Giles: 
We're called to follow Christ, not the Bible. In fact, please understand this: the Bible does not tell us to follow the Bible. The Bible tells us to follow Christ. But Biblical Christians follow the Bible. They do not in fact, attempt to follow Christ
That's a pretty important distinction. 

•From "Thou Shalt Not Hate the Gays":
You'd think that teachings like "Judge not, lest you be judged," or "Do unto others as you'd have them do unto you," or even "Love your neighbor as yourself" would pretty much cover "don't be a total dick to gay people." But not to Christian homophobes.

...

There are less than ten references to homosexuality in the Bible have been twisted to serve a prejudice that's directly at odds with the teachings of Jesus. And yet, Christianity has allowed the homophobes to set terms that Jesus himself clearly rejected.

If anyone's trying to use the Bible to justify any meanness to LGBTQ people, they've always got to go around Jesus. Being gay is natural, hating gays is a lifestyle choice.
•"Thou Shalt Not Hate the Gays" also includes something from Matthew 19 I don't recall hearing before...certainly not at Fugelsang explains it. Matthew 19: 4-6, which is often used to justify marriage as being between one man and one woman (Um, forget all that polygamy in the Old Testament, I guess). 

Later in that same chapter, Jesus discuses "three different types of men who will not be marrying women", for whom he uses the umbrella term "eunuch:
Not everyone can accept this word, but only those to whom it has been given. For there are eunuchs who were born that way, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by others—and there are those who choose to live like eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. The ones who can accept this should accept it" (Matthew 19:11).
The second and third types of eunuchs seem pretty obvious, but what of that first type? Fugelsang says Jesus isn't referring to "those astronomically rare boys born without genitals" but "the men who, since birth, are clearly never going to be marry women."

So, is Jesus saying that there are men who will never marry women, and, further, that they were born that way...?

"The one chapter used to argue that Jesus opposed gay marriage is the same chapter where Jesus says, calmly and matter-of-factly, that gay men are born that way," Fugelsang writes. "Jesus asserts some boys are born who will never be interested in girls, that they are the minority, and that God made the that way. And nobody bats an eye at this...Jesus then leaves it at that and moves on to pray with some kids. Because Jesus knows that, hey, some guys aren't into women, and it's not that big a deal. Because Jesus, time and again, refuses to be a dick."

This makes me want to consult a couple of different Bibles to see the exact language they use for this passage. I'm also curious about the use of the word "eunuch", and I wonder if it is always the particular word that is used, or if it differs in different Bibles, and if it has changed over the years...

This chapter also talks about two examples of what look suspiciously to modern eyes like gay relationships in the Bible, that between David and Johnathan from the Book of Samuel and the story of the Roman centurion and his servant from Matthew and Luke. As a comics reader familiar with fandom, this reminds me a bit of shipping. That is, the text doesn't say either pair is actually a romantic couple, but if you want to think there are, well, it also doesn't explicitly say they are not, and there's some evidence to marshal, if one is so inclined. 

•Did the Jews kill Jesus? In "Thou Shalt Not Hate Jews, Muslims, Or Even Atheists", Fugelsang says sure, but not just the Jews. The Romans did the dirty work. And there were plenty of others involved, too.
[A]fter the Romans killed Jesus, they took over his operation, and eventually the Holy Roman Empire rewrote the Jews as the real bad guys. And you've probably never heard anyone try to blame the Italians for killing Jesus. And they shouldn't. I've got relatives who would have heart attacks.

The truth behind the story of Jesus's death is that there were many different participants in his killing—the government, the military, some of the religious bosses, the citizens—even his own friends who denied him and sold him out.

I've always thought the death of Jesus was like a spiritual game of blackjack. When the hand came down, the Romans hit, Judas doubled his bet, Jesus surrendered, the apostles just stood, and Peter split.
Me, I don't know anything about blackjack.

"The point of the story is that everyone killed Jesus; all of them," Fugelsang concludes. "And then Jesus comes back and forgives everyone." 


Okay, that's enough bullet points from Past Caleb's bookmarking.

Read straight through, the book can feel a little disjointed and even a bit repetitive. That said, one need not sit down and read it straight through. Because Fugelsang organizes the book so that each chapter tackles a different subject, it's a very easy book to pick up, read for a bit and set down for a while before picking up again, if one is so inclined. It's a great book for casual reading and it also works as a sort of reference book. 

For example, is someone on Facebook or at your Thanksgiving table talks about how Jesus would be opposed to gun control? Well, you can pull Separation of Church and Hate off the shelf, consult "Thou Shalt Not Hate Gun Control or Worship Warrior Bro-Dude Jesus" and then explain the rest of the chapter and the full story around the verse about swords they have probably cherry-picked to make their point.



*So-called because its version of Jeremiah 8:22 is "Is there no treacle at Gilead?", which doesn't sound quite as right as the more familiar "Is there no balm in Gilead?", does it...?

Thursday, August 13, 2026

Not comics: Skeletor Has No Friends

Regardless of the quality of this summer's new Masters of the Universe movie, it definitely ushered in a flood of related merchandise. And given that the film is based on a toy line, one suspects that doing so was likely always a part of the point of producing the film in the first place. While I have long since grown out of the demographic to play with or collect the toys, I did find this one tie-in of interest: Writer Robb Pearlman and artist Andrew Kolb's picture book Masters of the Universe: Skeletor Has No Friends (Mattel Press; 2026), with its intriguing title and its cover image of the franchise's villain rendered in such a way that he is at once abstracted while some of his attributes are exploded.

What grown-up fan of the 1980s toy line-turned-cartoon could resist finding out what sort of story might lie beneath a cover like this?

As it turns out, Pearlman and Kolb present He-Man's archenemy and would-be tyrannical world-ruler Skeletor not so much as a villain or even a bad boss, but more of a bad friend, in a story which filters the familiar characters and settings of Eternia through Kolb's highly simplified and stylized art style.

Pearlman's word choice continually couches this actually gentle story about the virtues of being nice in the language of villainy, so that the narration, and Skeletor himself, both sort of insist on their overall badness, in a humorously defensive, "thou doth protest too much" kind of way.

"One gloriously gloomy day on Snake Mountain," the book begins, "the Evil Warriors were passing the time in between their evil schemes by playing a relaxing—yet evil—game of UNO."

Do note the reference to Skeletor and his allies as "Evil Warriors", with capital letters, just as they were traditionally denoted on the back of the packaging the action figures originally came in...and on the backs of the little storybooks and comic books that were boxed with them. 

Also, it was on this first spread, with its first-page mention of UNO and second-page image of Skeletor and his warriors all sitting around a stone table with UNO cards in their hands (below), that I flipped back to the title page to see if UNO, like Masters of the Universe, was owned by Mattel. It is.

Those warriors, by the way, are Beast Man, Evil-Lyn, Trap Jaw and Mer-Man...and Panthor, Skeletor's purple panther mount (the plastic toy of which was coated in fuzz), is seen napping in the corner). The designs, as you can see, are all great. 

While the toy line gave all the characters one of two basic body shapes (one for the male characters, another for the few female characters), Kolb's designs here are all quite different from one another, from a Beast Man who is pretty all torso and arms, with a tiny little head set in the middle of what looks like a spiked carpet draped over his shoulders and teensy tiny little legs, to a big-headed, skinny Mer-Man (I'm actually kind of surprised to see Mer-Man in here, as he wasn't in the movie, like the rest of the Evil Warriors here. Oh, and speaking of Mer-Man, note that in the image above, all of the characters have empty glasses in front of them...and Mer-Man has five, one imagines due to his aquatic nature. That's a nice, subtle detail). 

Skeletor has but one card left in his hand and is thus on the cusp of victory. He has only to wait for Beast Man, who is spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about which of his many cards to play. Beast Man eventually lays down a "Draw Bajillion" card. (I assume this isn't a real card, as I don't think "bajillion" is actually a real number. But then, I haven't played UNO since high school.) 

"This is an outrage!" Skeletor shouts, using his Havoc Staff to flip the table, blast everyone out of their chairs and send the cards flying. "How dare you keep me from my triumph!"

Evil-Lyn argues with sore loser Skeletor—"You can't keep expecting us to play with you, or follow you into battle, if you're mean to us," she says—before eventually leaving with Beast Man. There's a page with a three-image sequence in which Skeletor asks Mer-Man and Trap Jaw if they are leaving too, and they take turns telling him off. (Kolb subtly changes the expression on Skeletor's...let's say "face"...in the sequence, as he goes from confidently angry to somewhat surprised, even hurt.)

This leads to a passage in which Skeletor is forced to realize what it's like not to have any friends/henchmen, as he tries (and fails) to right the heavy stone table by himself, tries (and fails) to make "a deliciously evil grilled cheese!" and so on. He even has a plan to use a "Destructive Device" to "unleash chaos on Eternia", but is unable to activate it, as it requires pushing two launch buttons on two different computer consoles on other sides of the room. 

He then magically remembers "happy memories of him and his friends" which, amusingly, are a series of memories of times in which he ran away, leaving his "friends" in peril. Here's that spread, which, like the image of the UNO game above, I swiped from Amazon:

Due to some further magical shenanigans, the others see him admit that he's sad without them. "I like being evil," he says. "But I don't like being evil alone. I...I wonder if they'd come back if I promised to be a little nicer?"

They decide to give him another chance, and he struggles for several pages to be a bit nicer and more welcoming, even catching himself from calling them "fools," changing it to "fine folks" in mid-sentence. 

Once all is (temporarily...?) forgiven, Skeletor asks, "Now, would you all like to go capture He-Man...together?"

And thus we get a great double-page splash ending (this is from Kolb's website, and is thus missing the words that appear on it in the book proper):

Skeletor and his Evil Warriors are depicted charging from the right page at He-Man and his allies—Man-At-Arms, Teela, Orko, Ram Man and Battlecat—charging from the left. This is the only appearances from the good guys, but Kolb's versions of them are also quite fun. He even, and I am shocked to be typing these words, manages to make Orko look genuinely cool. 

The final words impart the moral: "That day, Skeletor learned the only thing better than being evil, was being evil with others by his side."

So yeah, no matter how bad a bad guy you are, it pays to be nice. 

Two of my nieces and my nephew are now too old for this book, and my other niece is still too young for it, so I don't have any little kids to run it by. But it sure seems to be a perfect example of that double-address one finds in all of the best all-ages works, with the basic story directed at younger readers, but with irony and meta-jokes there for the adults who will be reading the book to their kids (Perhaps, if their kids like it well enough, every night for months). 

I certainly enjoyed seeing Kolb's inspired, storybook take on the characters. 

And I hope whoever makes the next Masters of the Universe cartoon or feature film sees his long, lithe, creepy Orko, and uses that for inspiration...

*******************

You can see a few more pages from the book here at Simon & Schuster's website.

Or, better yet, here at Kolb's website. Do take some time to click around his site, as he draws a lot of comic, cartoon and video game characters. And if his name sounds familiar (or his art looks familiar), well, he drew a couple picture book tie-ins to past Spider-Man movies. I wrote about Spider-Man Swings Though Europe here and Spider-Man's Very Strange Day! in this post.

Monday, June 29, 2026

Not really a review of Supergirl

•It is certainly a choice for James Gunn and other DC Studios decision-makers to follow last year's joyful, inspirational, all-around fun Superman with this movie, in which the traumatized star attempts to self-medicate by badly abusing alcohol in a dark, grimy part of the galaxy, fighting a band of little girl-hunting sex slavers in order to save the life of her dog, the lovable scamp Krypto from the previous movie, who spends the majority of this movie on his deathbed, dying from a painful paralytic poison. Much of the comic relief comes in the form of a violent mercenary who distinguishes himself from the villain by boasting that he kills for money, not sport. 

•Call me crazy, but I think it might have been better if they had made a Supergirl movie that was appropriate for all-ages, rather than targeted towards the same grown-ups who read DC Comics and still go to theaters to see the latest Marvel movie. That is, a Supergirl movie that actual girls could enjoy and maybe, just maybe, a heroine they could relate to and seek to emulate. 

•Yellow sun, red sun, green sun, everywhere is equally poorly lit.

•And yes, there's a green sun, something that I, a comics blogger and semi-professional comics critic who has been reading DC Comics for 35 years now, have never heard of. After the movie, I looked it up, and apparently there was a single appearance of a green sun in a single Superman comic, 1962's Superman #155 by Bill Finger and Wayne Boring (Actually, the planet their Silver Age story is set on orbits a blue sun, but the villain apparently uses a satellite to turn its light green, rendering Superman powerless in the same way a red sun would). The only other usage of a green sun in a DC comic, according to the Grand Comics Database, is Tom King and Bilquis Evely's Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow, which this film is apparently a rather direct adaptation of (I never read it, and you can't make me). It is an innovation of King's that a green sun wouldn't simply strip a Kryptonian of their powers, but actively poison and kill them like exposure to green kryptonite might. 

And so, like the hypno-glasses mentioned (jokingly?) in Superman, this is a bit of trivia that was a) new to me and b) technically from the comics, but not exactly common. Unlike the hypno-glasses, this is an important plot point in this film. 

•The beams that Kryptonians empowered by the light of a yellow sun shoot out of their eyes are heat beams and therefore would not work anything at all like that. I guess Cyclops' mutant ability, to emit force beams might, but that's another superhero, franchise and universe.

•I counted two uses of the word "bastich", zero usages of the word "frag" or expression "Feetal's Gizz!"

•While Lobo was one of the brighter spots in the film, I think the filmmakers played him a little too straight, and took him too seriously, so that he came off as the sort of character he has more often than not been a parody of. More on this below. 

•I didn't like that his flying motorcycle/space hog also had wheels like a regular motorcycle and was more often than not depicting as driving around on the ground, rather than flying above it. I can't explain exactly why, but if felt a little weird and cheap to me, like something we might have seen in a 1970s or 1980s TV show featuring Lobo...not that Lobo was around that long ago, of course.  

•I thought Milly Alcock was pretty great as Supergirl in the film. Oddly, although perhaps refreshingly in some respects, I don't think this Supergirl is much like any Supergirl we have seen previously anywhere else...not even in last summer's Superman, where she seemed to be more of an intergalactic party girl in the mold of Alan Moore's Tesla Strong (at least as Tesla appeared in Tom Strong's Terrific Tales #1, in that memorable short story drawn by Jaime Hernandez). Here she seems less Tesla Strong and more of a Greg Rucka-written hard-drinking anti-hero...or maybe an early Vertigo John Constantine (She's even got the coat!).

I'm hardly the first to observe the subversive nature of giving the role of the aging, world-weary warrior who has seen some things to a little slip of a girl who we are explicitly told has just turned 23, but it's neat, and Allock sells it. Hell, she sells everything, from drunk, happy Kara, to sad, traumatized Kara to confident, powerful Kara. 

I like that they cast someone who wasn't already a household name—I know she's got some roles under her belt, but this is the first time I've seen her—which makes it easier to believe in her as Supergirl than, say, Jason Momoa as Lobo or Will Smith as Deadshot or Ben Affleck as Batman or Insert Your Own Example Of A Quite Famous Actor Playing a Comic Book Hero.

In addition to carrying the movie, I also like that Alcock has such a distinct face, so that she looks like a real person rather than a generic blonde baddie, and that the movie doesn't do a damn thing to glamorize her. I've never seen a Supergirl, for example, who looks like she not only didn't brush her hair that morning but might never have brushed her hair in her life. 

•Jason Momoa was fine, I thought, and he clearly seemed to be having fun. That said, he didn't seem to quite fit into the movie, and, days after seeing it, I'm actually kind of wondering why he was in it at all (Maybe to sell tickets? I know I was more interested in seeing what a live-action Lobo might look like than I was seeing, like, the fourth or fifth or sixth live-action Supergirl). 

I think part of the problem was that he was relatively tame, presented as an anti-hero rather than a parody of an anti-hero. Most Lobo comics portray him as completely over-the-top, more cartoon character than comic book character, and even when he's interacting in a more serious fashion with other characters in a crossover or team-up, there seems to be an inherent tension between his character and the others (I mean, just stand Lobo next to Superman and it's clear they don't belong together). 

A greater problem might be that because the movie is so goddam dark—in content as well as lighting, costuming and set design—that he doesn't stand out at all. Plop Lobo into Metropolis or the midst of the Justice League, and the sharp contrast makes him pop in the world of colorful superheroes. But in dark, smokey bars, nighttime brawls and shadowy prisons, up against a bunch of other guys who dress in black and wear big boots and chains? There's little to distinguish him from the Brigands he fights.

It will be fun to see if Gunn and company make use of him elsewhere, maybe duking it out with Superman at some point, or perhaps even starring in his own movie.

The one aspect of the character I thoroughly enjoyed here was the intense, almost perverse interest he had in watching Supergirl or Ruthye (Eve Ridley) when they were either committing an act of violence or were about too. He had a real "Sicko"-at-the-window meme vibe, or perhaps that of the Jack-Nicholson-nodding-expectantly meme, and I wonder if, had the director leaned into it a little more, Momoa looking approvingly toward Kara near the climax might have become an enduring meme, regardless of how the movie gets remembered. 

•I guess it's nice that they named a planet after Woman of Tomorrow artist Bilquis Evely. If the movie is as closely based on that miniseries as everyone says it is (again, I didn't read it), well then, they could have gone ahead and put a "Based on the graphic novel Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow by Tom King and Bilquis Evely" in the opening credits, rather than the "Based on characters by DC" or whatever the exact verbiage was. Heidi MacDonald seems to have sat through the credits, as she reports how those credits referred to the various comics creators whose work served to inspire the film at the end of her review, if you're curious).

•One of the major throughlines of the film involved whether or not Ruthye, the girl who watched her whole family get murdered by the film's villain Krem of the Yellow Hills (Matthias Schoenaerts) near the beginning, should kill him. Supergirl says no, that taking a life for revenge will change and haunt Ruthye for the rest of her life, only adding to her trauma rather than healing her.

They argue about the point off and on throughout—the only reason Supergirl and Ruthye spend the whole movie in pursuit of Krem together is because Krem also poisoned Krypto and carries the antidote on his person; that, and because Ruthye keeps following her—and the climax of the film involves what Ruthye decides to do when Krem is at her mercy, lying helpless on his back with her sword literally on his throat.

The argument, and that moment (and the moment that follows), lack much weight because, throughout the movie, it isn't entirely clear what Supergirl thinks about killing people. 

Now, Krem looks human, albeit with a face covered in metal studs, and the guys he hangs out with, The Brigands, are all similarly humanoid, although some have horns (They actually all look kinda like background characters from Mad Max: Fury Road). We are told at one point that Krem has the strength of a thousand men, and, at another, we see him catch a very heavy object that falls on him and toss it aside, implying that he has super-strength.

He also seems to have some degree of invulnerability, as he survives a whole bunch of super-punches, kicks and various flying body slams and piledrivers from a fully-powered Supergirl near the end—in fact, the reason he seems to be at Ruthye's mercy at the climax is because Supergirl has pummelled him so badly. (Despite his ability to absorb Kryptonian blows without being pulped, he is apparently still quite stab-able; an unfortunate aspect of the movie is the inconsistencies of the characters' power levels. For example, while the fact that Kara's fluctuate depending on what planet she is on is part of the backstory, the colors of the suns don't always explain her strength and weakness. So, alcohol has no effect on her under a yellow sun, which is why she goes off into space to drink on red sun planets, right?. But apparently poison can affect her under a yellow sun. At least on one planet. On a different planet with a yellow sun, it doesn't.)

Are the rest of the Brigands similarly super-powered? No one ever says. (They are apparently all part of the same species though, as the reason they take female slaves is that their species is all-male.) This matters because, if all the Brigands aren't super-strong and invulnerable-ish like Krem, then Supergirl must massacre dozens of them in a couple of fight scenes, as she punches and kicks them, throws them from great heights and blasts them, blasts them her heat-vision and flies through their vehicles, causing them to explode. The fact that she doesn't pulp them with her punches suggests that they are invulnerable, but I don't know, maybe she pulls her punches...?

Again, this only really matters because so much is made about the question of killing but, because the film is so unclear on the matter, by the time Supergirl and Ruthye have to decide how to deal with the defeated Krem, Supergirl may or may not have killed all of his fellows. 

•Supergirl's super-senses, like her strength and invulnerability, similarly come and go...even under a yellow sun. We see her use her X-ray vision at least twice; doesn't she also have telescopic vision, and super-hearing...? It doesn't seem so. There's one pivotal scene where she and Ruthye are in a room for a long time, and she leaves the room to approach a couple speaking to one another in hushed voices in the kitchen; comic book Supergirl would have been able to hear them just fine from the room upstairs, though.

A short time later, she's searching for Krem as he stalks a girl, tauntingly talking to his prey the whole time, yet Supergirl seems unable to hear him, or spot him with her vision powers. 

•So, as I mentioned before, when I first saw the trailer, it didn't excite me about the prospect of seeing the film...or even really pique my interest. Full of glimpses of Supergirl in a dark, junky, lived-in looking version of a sub-Star Wars vision of outer space, dramatically set to an old pop song ("What Becomes of the Brokenhearted"), it looked for all the world like someone doing a pastiche of Gunn's own Guardians of the Galaxy movies...only with all of the wit and color of those trailers drained out of it. 

I'm happy to report that it is far better than that trailer made it look. It's not Supergirl in a GOTG movie with all of the wit and color drained out (Although God knows it could use more wit and, especially, more color). Rather, it's True Grit and/or John Wick starring a troubled young dog mom in a Joss Whedony, James Gunnish version of outer space, fighting space-orcs that could have come from Serenity or Thor: The Dark World or GOTG or Masters of the Universe to save her CGI pet.

Is it a Supergirl movie...? Not one I would have expected, but it's an interesting take. 

I've read a handful of reviews from professional movie critics, and all but one were bad (Heidi liked it too, and the friend I used to watch the Supergirl TV show with for the first two seasons or so liked it). Many of the gripes seemed to be about the script not seemingly quite right, despite Gunn's promise that no DC film would go into production unless and until the script was perfected, and the fact that it seems stapled together from other movies.

It's not as bad as you might have heard and, aside from the murkiness regarding whether or not Supergirl kills throughout and my various nitpicks, for the movie they were trying to make, I think they did a fair job. The main problem with the result, I think, comes down to aesthetics: Our first look at the DC Universe beyond Metropolis in a movie just looks dark, generic, boring and uninspired. 

Maybe this was due to a lack of imagination among the various designers involved, maybe they just didn't have the budget, but, if they were going to adapt Woman of Tomorrow, I wish they would have made it look like it took place in a universe Evely had drawn. 

Thursday, June 18, 2026

¡Vamos! Let's go read Raúl The Third's El Toro & Friends series!

Do you like art? Comics? Wrestling? Superheroes and villains? Monsters? Then you're probably going to like writer/artist Raúl The Third's early reader books from his "El Toro & Friends" series, which, if you're a comics reader, will look like something of a hybrid of a picture book and a comic in terms of format.

Short bursts of prose appear over an image on each page, which, like those of most picture books, can be read like "splash" pages in a comic, while some pages are broken into two panels. Additionally, while the narration is in prose, dialogue usually appears in comics-like dialogue balloons. In fact, if Raúl drew boxes around that narration, each entry in the series would read exactly like a comic book, albeit one for kids.

In 2019, 
Raúl The Third published ¡Vamos! Let's Go to Market, a picture book that was similarly comic book-y. In it, anthropomorphic wolf Little Lobo and his normal dog Bernabe make deliveries to the market in a bustling, Richard Scarry-like world of similarly anthropomorphic animals*. Various things are labeled throughout in Spanish, which appears in red cursive, and the signs and characters' dialogue feature Spanish as well. The setting of the book would eventually be referred to and branded as "The World of ¡Vamos!"

¡Vamos! was successful enough of a book that it led to a whole series, the title of each of which begins with the words ¡Vamos! Let's Go.... These include Let's Go Eat, Let's Cross the Bridge, Let's Go Read and Let's Celebrate Halloween and Día de los Muertos.

Meanwhile, El Toro, a bull man luchadore who appears in ¡Vamos!, got his own spin-off series, "El Toro & Friends," also from "The World of ¡Vamos!". While both of Raúl The Third's series are charming, and both are set in border towns where Mexican and American cultures blend (and both sprinkle Spanish into their stories), it is the El Toro books that I think will be most appealing to comics readers, especially fans of superhero comics, as there is, obviously, more than a touch of the superhero comic book to professional wrestling in general, and especially to luchadores, who occasionally starred in movies as heroes and crimefighters. 

I'd definite recommend looking for them during your next trip to the library. 

In the meantime, here's what's in the series so far...

Training Day (2021) El Toro, the humanoid bull and luchador hero of the "El Toro & Friends" series, wants to become Champion of the World ("¡El Campeón del Mundo!") and number one ("¡Numero uno!"). But to do so, he has to break through the wall in his career. 

And by "the wall" I mean "The Wall", the undefeated champion of the world who, like so many of the wrestling characters in the colorful world of Raúl the Third's hybrid picture book/comics, looks like he could have stepped out of a superhero comic: He is a huge, anthropomorphic brick wall.
(Are you thinking about The Fantstic Four's Thing right now...? Maybe the villain Brick from Judd Winick's Green Arrow comics...?) 

El Toro will have to train hard to do it, and that's where El Toro's trainer, a humanoid rooster named Kooky Dooky comes in. (Like El Toro, Kooky Dooky first appeared in the first ¡Vamos! book).

We see Kooky Dooky approach El Toro's house—a perfectly square building that says "Casa Toro" on it, with a "Beware of Luchador" sign on the fence and a wrestling ring with three ropes the colors of the Mexican flag on the roof.

El Toro is feeling lazy and doesn't want to get out of bed, but Kooky expresses the necessity of training—"This guy is made out of bricks!"—and he has a whole long list of, well, kooky forms of training, ranging from swinging at pinatas to train his senses, to crushing cars over his head to make his arms strong to helping abuelas cross the teach him patience. 

El Toro has objections to each, which Raul draws in big, two-page spreads that appear within thought clouds emanating from the prone wrestler's head, but eventually he is prevailed upon to start training, and once he's out, jogging in the streets, and sees his many adoring fans cheering for him, he feels inspired to train harder and harder.

The book ends with El Toro facing The Wall in the ring, and while it's not clear who wins the match, the advantage seems to be El Toro's, as the book ends with a two-page spread of him drop-kicking The Wall, sending bricks flying in every direction as he drives his opponent into the turnbuckle with a "POW!" 

On the last page of the book, where the small print that you usually see on the first page appears, there's a little image of El Toro holding a frightened looking Wall aloft in one hand and winding up the fist of his other hand, while bricks continue to drop from the (former?) champion's body.  

Tag Team (2021) The wrestling action in the second book is only a prelude to the real conflict facing El Toro and La Oink Oink, a humanoid pig woman.

In the first pages, the pair took on Donny Dollars and Bald Aguila at El Coliseo, a big building shaped a bit like a sombrero. Bald Aguila looks more vulture than eagle, and the bald top of his head, the long blonde hair on the sides and back and the headband suggested Hulk Hogan to me.

Meanwhile, Donny Dollars is a little guy with green suit, diamond-tipped cane and a money bag for a head. His "rich guy" theme reminded me of Ted DiBiase, The Million Dollar Man, from back when I was a little kid with some interest in professional wrestling. Is "rich guy" a common theme for a heel...?
"The match lasted for hours," the narration tells us, over a spectacular image of La Oink Oink airplane-spinning The Bald Aquila above her head, one of his long, curving limbs stretching out to tag his partner outside the ropes.

The next day, we see El Toro on his knees in the middle of a busted-up looking ring, crying to the heavens, "I cannot believe my eyes! 
¡No puedo creer mis ojos!". El Coliseo is a mess, and some eight pages are devoted to detailing the mess. 

El Toro calls Mal Burro and Peeky Pequeno, who are apparently responsible for cleaning up, but the latter speaks into the receiver of a red phone marked "Beach Phone," saying, "We are not feeling well." This despite the fact that they are at the beach. El Toro, speaking into "El Toro Telefono Watch-o" on his wrist, is dismayed by the news, and calls his partner, La Oink Oink.

She speeds to the coliseum in big fancy car decorated by a smiling pig head on the bumper and which seems to go "oink oink oink" as she drives, while El Toro details the nature of the mess to the readers.

"And to top it all off, the training chickens got loose," the narration says. Training chickens, you ask? Well, these seem to be chicken-sized chicken men, far smaller than Kooky Dooky (who we see surfing at the beach on one page). They have the heads of chickens, bare featherless human-looking torsos and arms and wear pants. They were introduced in the first book, when Kooky Dooky told El Toro that, "To keep you quick on your feet, you will chase the chickens." 

Once she arrives, La Oink Oink is able to cheer El Toro up. She points out their teamwork from the night before, and they apply the same principle to cleaning up. Together, the pair manage to get the coliseum back in shape. (The hardest part, which takes four pages, a cartoon fight cloud and a "2 hours later!" tag, is catching the training chickens.)

The lesson is, of course, that even the most daunting tasks are doable when you have help and practice good teamwork. 

That, and that listening to music helps make cleaning less tedious. 

Team Up
(2022) 
This is the first of the El Toro & Friends books set in the past, when El Toro and La Oink Oink were still little kids, just training to be luchadores. As you can see, they look pretty much the same, but smaller; El Toro's head is very round and he hasn't yet developed a bull-like snout, and he had floppy little ears below his horns, while La Oink Oink similarly has a rounder head and...well, that's about the only difference between aside from her size, really.

The story begins and ends in the present, where the kids are all "¡Un equipo fabuloso!", but flashes back to show how they got that way. As ninos, they all trained at Ricky Raton's School of Lucha, chasing chickens, training to be strong and patient and acquire various other virtues.

Each of the half-dozen little wrestlers develops a signature move, from Lizarda's whip-like tongue attack to Jack A. Lopze's super-speed. La Oink Oink and El Toro, who seem to be the least "super" of the group, have "over the top kicks" that "never missed their mark" and a "Super Charge!" attack, respectively.

When it comes time for their final test, it would seem that the kids are faced with the impossible: To defeat Ricky Raton himself!

The great wrestler, who were previously told was "THE BEST!" and "THE BIG CHEESE!" is able to defeat all six of them one-on-one, countering each of their special moves. 

Does that mean the young heroes will never graduate to become professional luchadores? Obviously not. But how can they defeat Ricky Raton? Well, it's right there in the title, isn't it? Joining forces, they layer one attack upon another and manage to counter his counters, ultimately knocking him out of the ring, into a tree with a big, yellow, block-lettered "BONK" and forcing him to wave a white flag. 

As in Tag Team, Team Up champions the efficacy of teamwork, and demonstrates that what may be impossible to do alone becomes possible when everyone works together.

A valuable lesson, taught in the most entertaining fashion: Battles full of super wrestling attacks.

Tacos Today
(2023)  Another story set when El Toro and La Oink Oink were little kids studying at Ricky Raton's School of Lucha, among a student body that are so colorful and diverse looking that they looks as much like a kid superhero team as a bunch of wrestlers in training (Not least of all because most of them seem to have some sort of power or super ability).
(I get a real Captain Carrot vibe from this panel, personally.)

We met all of these guys, and learned their various abilities, in the last book, and they are here gradually reintroduced. In addition to El Toro and La Oink Oink, they are Armor Dillo, Jack A. Lopez, Lizarda and Croak (And there's a training chicken in the background of the image above).

When they get let out of school for lunch, they quickly decide what they want: Tacos, as there is a variety for each taste, including tongue tacos ("That's a food that can taste you back!" Croak tells El Toro). (As a vegetarian who leans vegan, all of those mentioned here sound awful to me...also, is it...right for anthropomorphic bull El Toro to eat a tacos made with cow tongues...?)

Unfortunately, the kids realize that they don't actually have enough money for tacos. But fortunately, they are picked up by The Party Bus, where all of the passengers dance in their seats. Their fellow pasajeros are so impressed by Armor Dillo and La Oink Oink's dance moves that they throw coins at them.

This gives La Oink Oink an idea and, once they all arrive at Taco Square, the kids demonstrate the wrestling skills they have learned from Ricky Raton. The crowd goes wild and tosses money at them...paper money, this time. They would now easily have enough to buy all the tacos they wanted...if they had to. But, because the taco vendors are so happy that the impromptu wrestling demo brought so many customers, they give the kids free tacos!

As with the previous books, there's a little, last-page "stinger" cartoon. In this one, Ricky Raton looks at his watch and remarks to a training chicken, which I see here has nipples, "Those ninos sure are taking a long lunch!"

The last page of each book also contains a little dedication from Raúl and Elaine Bay, who colors the books. Here, Raul's dedication is, "To J. Wellington Wimpy," who the late, great Tom Spurgeon has eloquently argued is "The Greatest Comics Character of All Time."

Tough Times (2026) Finally, there's Tough Times, the latest entry in the series (At least for now). I recently reviewed this one for Good Comics for Kids (you can read my review here), and this is the one that made me think I should probably write about the series here, as the gauntlet of colorful opponents that El Toro faces in this book all seem like crosses between monsters and supervillains as much as wrestlers. 

If one likes superhero comics, I realized while reading Tough Times, one is going to like this series. 

This is another one that starts in the present with the adult El Toro and then flashes back to his childhood. Still a rookie, he keeps losing his matches, against opponents Al "The Crane" Scorpio, Thunderbird Mountain, Burrobot, El Desierto and Huevo Ranchero. Honestly, the book is worth picking up just to check out the designs of these characters. Some are pretty silly, and some of them are very cool; it's not hard to imagine some of these guys chasing Scooby and Shaggy around or fighting Spider-Man in New York City. I had to resist the temptation to just scan an image of each and point at the image and say, "Look! Look how cool this is!"

Down in the dumps at always losing, Kid Toro gets a pep talk from Ricky Raton, and after a training montage, he has a rematch with The Crane, and this time he wins.

If you pick up only one of these books at my recommendation, I would make it this one.

Now, vamos! Let's go read Raúl The Third books...!



*I especially like the snakes. There's one in the El Toro & Friends book Tag Team wearing a shirt and jeans, both of which are just tubes of fabric, with turquoise jewelry and belt-buckle, a cowboy hat on his head and a single cowboy boot on the tip of his tail.