Miracle Man is back! Here's four-thousand words on The Sentry.

Let's be real for a second, there's two types of people who are reading a blog on an intensely local indie comic publisher's website. Type number one is my mother. Hello, thank you for being here, I love you. Please stop texting me about our last blog post, I'm normal now I swear. The second type are comic book lovers. Not just lovers of the market or of a specific character, but likely people who have dedicated some portion of their lives to the medium as a whole. A lot of you type two people, I imagine, probably want to work in comics someday, in some capacity. Well, if that's true, this post is for you!

Obviously, comics are a wider artform than any single genre. Brilliant horror works like Memetic or Did You Hear About Mimi Green? are briming with imagination and spectacle. Original science-fiction epics such as Papergirls and Saga can thrive in the comics space in ways that the material concerns of other mediums would never allow. Speculative fiction and suspense stories are given new tools here to help them reach their full potential, think The Department of Truth or The Nice House on The Lake. Even grounded autobiographical dramas akin to Fun House or They Called Us Enemy have their place and their followings. But everybody in the world knows that when it comes to comic books, the real money makers are the Superheroes.

If you want to have a career in comics, I'm gonna bet that you want to have a career in Superheroes. Heck, I'd even guess you've got a couple original superhero ideas running around in your head too, just bursting to get out! And why shouldn't you? Who amongst us, when we were seven years old, didn't run around the playground pretending to be Duperman. (Who could do all the things Superman could do, only better. Of Course.) But now you're grown and your playtime ideas have evolved into real characters and real stories. You've got themes, worldviews, and aesthetics that you're dealing with. Inside you there is an epic of mythological proportions in which tragedy breaks the Sisyphean chains of modernity and allows our hero to ascend to the status of demigod. Perhaps he, the hero in your head, knew once that he was destined for greatness. He knew, back then, that he was different and special. He probably even did something about it. But that action, whatever it was, ended in tragedy. His power, maybe even his own mind, was taken from him. So, a life once filled with promise gives way to yet another legacy of forgotten normality. Ah, but not forever. Older now, though perhaps not always wiser, your hero is forced to don the cape once more. Though a dark secret still haunts him, the call of duty is far greater! And far greater is exactly what he will become!

Ah shit, wait. That's The Sentry. Fuck.

It's not you, dear reader, it's everybody. If you can't tell what this one's going to be about yet folks, I've been noticing a pattern lately.

For the uninitiated, The Sentry is a marvel comics character who, despite premiering a few years earlier, made his big splash in Brian Michael Bendis' New Avengers in 2005. New Avengers was a wildly influential book which relaunched what would today be considered Marvel's flagship team-up. The strategy was to pair the house's most popular characters, Spider-Man, Wolverine, Captain America, Iron Man, with a group of less popular characters who were, none-the-less, brimming with potential and fertile thematic grounds. It is because of this book that characters like Carol Danvers, Luke Cage, and Spider-Woman are the names they are today. Rounding out the "these guys can't sell a book" list was Bob Reynolds, a.k.a. The Sentry.

This guy was just in a movie and it was really good, but his story is a bit different on the page. See, the metatextual "bit" being proposed here is that, actually, The Sentry had been a beloved Marvel character the whole time! All the way back to the 50s even! But a horrible tragedy occurred and everybody in the universe, even us the reader, all forgot about him! Now, in the modern day, he's forced to become a superhero once again, even though he carries around with him a dark secret. Spoiler alert: sometimes Duperman becomes EVIL Duperman, so look out for that.

The Sentry spent most of the naughts menacing the skies as a mentally unstable Thor stand-in until, eventually, writers and audiences alike seemed to get bored. At that point the character disappeared for a couple years. Eventually, who can be bothered to remember when, he popped back up in Dr. Strange. Though, I've got to admit, doesn't seem like we're doing much with him. Last I heard they split his powers up amongst five more interesting secret identities in a miniseries that screams "waiting to be reversed by editorial."

For absolutely no reason at all, I'd like to introduce you all to a character named Blue Marvel! Blue Marvel is a Marvel Comics character who, despite premiering a few years earlier, made his big splash in Warren Ellis' The Ultimates. Blue Marvel, real name Adam Brashear, has a metatextual edge to his story. You see, the bit being played out here, is that actually Blue Marvel was a beloved Marvel superhero the whole time! But back then he wore a full-face mask and, when it was shattered, the racist forces of American society felt they could not tolerate a black Duperman. But now, decades later, he's forced to become a superhero once more, despite society's dark shame.

Blue Marvel spent most of the twenty-teens becoming a role model to younger black superheroes and finding a place for himself in the ever-evolving socio-landscape of the modern world. That is, apparently, until the writers and audience alike must have gotten bored. We are currently living through the few years where Blue Marvel is missing throughout publication, but I'm sure he'll pop back up soon in a Black Panther mini-series about running a space empire. Yeah, that's my guess. I'll lock that in.

For absolutely no reason at all, do you guys remember that CW show Black Lightning? The mayor from Heart of Dixie played Jefferson Pierce, one of my favorite Superheroes. See, the bit for this show was that Black Lightning had actually been a great goddamn superhero the entire motherfucking time! Then he had kids and now he's a superhero again. Do you see what I'm getting at though?

I'm not stupid and I'm not pretending to be, I see the appeal of something like this. Superheroes are, typically, blockbuster faire. That's not to say they can't be deep or resonant or character studies, but they're blockbusters first. They trade in spectacle. When I was in college, a film critic from NPR told me that the single most powerful message a blockbuster can give to its audience is the idea that they're already doing the right thing. They have passions and drives and ineffable feelings inside of them that guide their actions. The best blockbusters say that the direction they guide you in is noble and true. You are taking actions in your life this very day, and they are what makes you special; thus, you are prepared for the trials before you and will only ever come out a better person. Star Wars, The Matrix, Harry Potter. Whatever other thematic diatribes these stories explore, that's what they have to say. That's also the story of The Sentry, Blue Marvel, Black Lightning (on TV), SHAZAM, and so many others.

That's not enough to be a "The Sentry" though. If that was the only thing that was happening here, I'd have no real ground. Popular stories share themes all the time, it's part of creating a cultural identity. The Sentry-a-likes require a bit more shared DNA. This is somebody that the story assumes you, the reader, didn't care about before now. Metatextually, that audience attitude is reflected in the story as a disregard from the rest of the world. This is paired with an air of mystery which surrounds the character, usually until what people call the "all is lost" moment of their re-introduction. There, in the third act, the world and the hero remember who they are. Expressed as an awe-inspiring display of power, our hero bursts back into the scene, saves the day, and shows off their costume. (a flashy throw-back to design styles of yore.)

If you're looking for a modern example, please allow me to direct you to this year's big summer event coming out of Marvel; Avengers Armageddon. Here, The Avengers are disassembled due to the political machinations of their enemies, which will doubtlessly shape the landscape of the Marvel Universe until, like, next summer. The thing you need to know is that everything goes wrong and the team is on the backfoot. Because of this, The Avengers are forced out of their comfort zones in ways that include recruiting a mysterious man who was once a great hero but now has been forgotten by the world.

Chip Zdarsky writes Avengers Armageddon. He also wrote one of the main books that the event spins off from, the 2025 run of Captain America. I'd like to point out here, just before we delve into discussing his work, that I like Chip Zdarsky comics. I like Chip Zdarsky comics a lot. I'm gonna say a lot of really mean and snarky things here at the front-end because it makes this piece flow better, but I like Chip Zdarsky, and I'll explain why as I go on.

In his Captain America, Zdarsky's big breakout storyline is called Our Secret Wars. It focuses on Steve Rogers coming to learn of a man named David Colton. David is the aforementioned mysterious former superhero. During the war on terror, he took up the mantle of Captain America, and the government would like it very much if nobody knew. At the end of Avengers Armageddon, spoiler alert, Mr. Colton is transformed by extra-dimensional forces into a long missing superhero called Miracle Man.

I said I was going to say some mean things, and here they come. If you're the "my mom" type of reader, you may not fully have the context for the things I'm about to say. That's okay, you don't need them, it's not really what you're here for. Feel free to jump past the section with all the capitalization. Here we go.

Fucking MIRACLE MAN!? Be so goddamn for real right now. Miracle Man? JESUS CHRIST! What are we even doing anymore? Oh, and I guess because he's Miracle Man, I guess he just fucking forgot! Huh? HUH? Yeah. I thought so. What did they have a bunch of extra copies lying around the warehouse they had to move? Whose sitting around asking "I wonder what Miracle Man is up to? OH! I CAN'T WAIT TILL THEY BRING BACK FUCKING MIRACLE MAN!" Chip! Do YOU even want Miracle Man in these books? I saw the interview! I know you said you wanted David to leave more powerful than he came in, but does that mean you wanted him to be MIRACLE MAN SPECIFICALLY?

What does this do for DAVID, as a character? WHAT DOES THIS DO FOR MIRACLE MAN AS AN IP EVEN!? Miracle Man is NOT a character that needs to be in constant rotation. He services one story and it's fucking OVER! Part of its effectiveness is that it ended! WHOOP! NOT ANYMORE! We all knew it was going to happen but I'm disappointed that it's you. And it only damages accessibility for David! A superhero needs a three-sentence pitch MAXIMUM! REALLY, we should be getting that down to one. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Spiderman, they get off scott-free but EVERYBODY ELSE NEEDS A LOGLINE. The more SHIT you pile on, the less anybody wants to start! "He was Captain America when Steve wasn't there and now, we're all ashamed of him," as a pitch, is SO GOOD! It's SO so good, infact, that they JUST made a movie about a guy who DOES THAT SAME THING! It came out THE SAME YEAR that your book started! And BELIEVE ME! I will RETURN to Isaiha Bradley!

NOT EVEN TO MENTION ALL THE LOGISTICAL PROBLEMS! Let's skip right past the Origin Box. I have WORDS about the Origin Box but I'M PRACTICING SELF-RESTRAINT! Why would you put Marvel Man on a team with CAPTAIN MARVEL!? ESPECIALLY if the new Miracle Man is DAVID COLTON! They come from the same background, they do THE SAME shit, and they even wear THE SAME CLOTHES! THEN YOU WENT AND GAVE 'EM THE SAME HAIRCUT! What are we doing here!? What's the fucking point!? GODDAMMIT! Where's the Tylenol!?

Hi Mom, welcome back. If you happen to be Chip Zdarsky, I would like to apologize for my tone, but not my displeasure. This is an entertainment product, and it was funnier that way. I hope you understand. Right hand on the bible, I swear to God you're good at writing comics man.

Miracle Man is actually a really interesting character to give the Sentry treatment to because it already happened to him. Infact, I'm pretty sure he was the first. The proto-Sentry, if you will.

The legalities of the backstory are too annoying to get into right now, but suffice it to say: In the 50s there was a book called Marvel Man. For copyright reasons, Alan Moore's revival of the character in the 80s is called Miracle Man. That's the name that sticks around to today. The idea is that, in the story, Miracle Man is a comic book character. But then, one day, this guy remembers, "oh shit! Miracle Man was real AND I was his sidekick!" All he has to do to become Miracle Man now, is say the magic word. (Yes, I know. It came up in the copyright suit. We're not gonna talk about it.)

Of course, the kid does transform. Who wouldn't? And once he does, he becomes burdened with the terrible secret of the mass killings he did.

Again, that story came out in the 80s. Someday, I'll make a post about a critical theory I have called Pink-Floyd's-The-Wall-Syndrome, and we'll all remember that I said Miracle Man was a perfect example. The story was continued once before, after Moore had left, by alleged sex-pest Neil Gaiman. Despite Gaiman's unfortunately undeniable talent, I actually think that was a bad idea too. Miracle Man is so inextricably linked to Moore's voice and ideas that I don't feel he can ever be properly explored outside of the context of that revival series. I also don't think there's any real need. He's Miracle Man, I read the book, I get it.

That's the problem with all the Sentry characters. That's why they disappear for a couple years after being reintroduced to critical and audience acclaim. That's why, despite people saying they're beloved characters, nobody cares when they come back again. The Sentry has one story and it's over. Without some other thematic area to grasp onto, there's really nothing there.

As a side note, that's why the best Sentries are all black. Call me the wokeler all you want, but black people are doing amazing things in America every day since forever. Unless you're George Washington Carver, white people don't care. If "polite" white society remembers a black person's achievements at all, (big if), they are viewed through a distorting lens that overwrites that person's actual history, actions, and beliefs. Effectively, they are stripped of all personhoods. There can be black achievements, black historical figures, even black celebrities, but never any black people. For the record, I don't believe a significant portion of people got tired of reading or writing about Blue Marvel, but I digress.

Chip Zdarsky is good at writing comics. More than that, he's got a good team behind him at Marvel. Even if he never sat down and parsed out the things I'm saying here, I wholly believe that he has an understanding of them on an instinctual level. You can debut as flashy as you want, but if you don't have a stronger thematic grounding, your character will be shunted off to the wayside. Just think of all the brilliant, wonderful characters you love who haven't been in a book in years. If they can't survive in the cutthroat market, a short-lasting gimmick isn't gonna save anybody.

In the movies, this was solved by sidestepping the gimmick entirely. The Sentry of Disney Marvel's Thunderbolts was never here the whole time. Instead, he and his evil counterpart are played as mythic representations of Bob's massive mood swings. When he's manic, he's The Sentry. When he's depressive, he's The Void. Though one is certainly presented in the trappings of splendor while the other is presented as a more traditional threat, both are equally dangerous in different ways.

This is more of an annoyance than a problem for The CW's Black Lightning, because Black Lightning is not an obscure or forgotten character. Though he's no Superman (Or Duperman, for that matter), he is still one of the most important and storied characters in DC's arsenal. At least, that's my take. When the initial shock falls away, there's still a decades long legacy to draw from.

I already mentioned Blue Marvel. However, I do now get a chance to talk about the greatest Sentry character of all time, Isaiha Bradley. Isaiha, and I'm sorry Chip because there's no way to phrase this that doesn't sound like I'm dropping some kind of bombshell, was also known as Captain America. You see, when Captain America was in the ice, Isaiha was given the ever-elusive super soldier formula. During the intervening decades, he took up the mantle of Captain America, and the government would like it very much if nobody knew. He was Cap when Steve Rogers was gone, and now we're all very much ashamed of him.

Again, Chip Zdarsky isn't stupid. I just described one of the most famous Captain America stories of all time. He knew about it before he started writing. He accounted for it in the story. For one; Isaiha is black, David is white. That alone paints the story in a different light. Beyond that, though, it's clear in the text that what happened to David happened in the shadow of Isaiha Bradley's life. What happened to one was possible because it happened to the other first. Isaiha was always a part of shameful American legacy; David is just a new aspect of it. Granted, David's whiteness does muddy the metaphor a bit, but it doesn't damage the impact or importance of Isaiha's character. These stories are not derivative they are in conversation.

The esteemed Mr. Zdarsky does this a lot actually. It's one of my favorite aspects of his work. His Daredevil feels, to me, to be in direct conversation with much of Frank Miller's work on the character, specifically Born Again and The Elektra Saga. His Peter Parker: The Spectacular Spider-man feels like a response to the decade's worth of runs that had come before it. Important to note; that does not mean that it was necessarily always a rebuttal. In that same tradition, it's no wonder that Zdarsky's Captain America should have a response to Ed Brubaker's.

For the most part, these are additive conversations. Peter Parker's life has left a palpable and positive impact on the city and the people he loves in spite of how he views himself. Matt Murdok's time in jail forces him to examine what he feels is a triple hypocrisy that so often tears him apart as a man of God, of violence, and of the law. David Colton's existence says something about the American government's ability (or inability) to reform itself. These are thematic veins that have run for decades, if not for the entirety of their character's existence. Zdarsky is able to offer dynamic new representations of those themes that endear themselves to audiences in ways that seem both excitingly fresh and refreshingly familiar. That's what Superhero comics are made for. Ellis did it in Extremis, Ewing did it in Immortal Hulk, Aaron did it in The God Butcher. It's the hardest thing a writer can do in this industry, and Zdarsky pulls it off regularly. I'm sorry to say, I just didn't feel that way with Miracle Man.

David Colton connects with me, and with others, because there's a weight to his story in a time when a lot of Marvel comics feel a little weightless. That weight is additive. It pushes on muscles it strengthens. But when it comes to Miracle Man? Well, that revival that we're reviving here was already weighty enough. What's more, that impact has been weakened by decades of stories who draw from it. Those muscles, I fear, might give out under the strain.

In the lead-up to Zdarsky's Avengers, which will spin out of Avengers Armageddon, I can already tell that he's chosen to be in conversation with Bendis' New Avengers. Some of the roster is the same, the tone feels reminiscent of it, and the set-up (The Avengers have disbanded in the face of a transformative disaster and now must reform in the face of another.) is remarkably similar. If I were Chip Zdarsky, that is the choice I would make.

If I'm reading into things correctly, it looks like an interesting comparison. Though not all characters return, the ones that do highlight the changes of the past decades. Gone is the golden trio of Iron Man, Captain America and Thor. (Though Thor was never in New Avengers.) Instead, Luke Cage steps into Cap's old boots as the leader and moral center. Carol, Captain Marvel, has become the new Thor these days. She too is an uber-powerful warrior unsure of her place in the world and sometimes unable to cope with her more human side. Spider-man is left to stand in for Iron Man, brilliant and finally coming into his own, but perhaps unaware of his growing importance on a shifting world stage. Wolverine is still Wolverine, but that's a comment too. Admittedly, I haven't seen enough of Daredevil in the previews to guess at what role he'll play, but I'm sure it follows the pattern. In that context, I can understand the temptation to give us a new Sentry.

Unfortunately, I feel Sentry was the worst part of that book. I feel that way for all the reasons I've laid out. He was compelling for five or six issues, however long those first two arcs took, and then he was nothing. Is this the fate that awaits Miracle Man? I can't say for certain, but that's my fear. Perhaps it is even my suspicion.

We retell the Sentry story because it tells an aging audience that it's not too late. It says that the things you were you can be yet again, only this time it'll all work out. Maybe you could say that's a silly idea, but they are called comic books.

However, Miracle Man is a story that tells people it is too late. The magic is there but you are the problem. You're not who you remember being, maybe you never were. There is a life ahead of you, but if you can't move towards it, the life behind you will be devastating.

These stories are diametrically opposed. They are mutually exclusive. They exist on a strict yes-no binary. You can come down in one direction or another. Now, Zdarsky seeks to merge then into a kind of symbiosis? I know he's got the goods, but I just don't understand. Although maybe that's the game he's playing. These stories are strong in the subconscious. Even if you never sat down and parsed out everything I've said, you might have still felt it on an instinctual level. That's the power of these things and Zdarsky knows it. Meta-commentary is the greatest shared strain between these discordant stories. Is it really so outlandish to assume that Zdarsky can use the power of metatext to make us, the audience, as uneasy about David Colton as the people in the book are? Despite my diatribe, I do have faith in the man.

If I continue too much further, this will become an exercise in criticizing a story that does not yet exist. I refuse to partake in such things. So, allow me to leave you here and with a few questions. How does a story grow in the retelling? If we can really recapture the magic, should we? When does a man become a symbol? Can a symbol stay a man? Who will all of us be when we too return to the things that we love?