...He's Probably Just Like Me: A Mother. F***ing. Goblin.

Excuse the title, I've been getting into Tyler a lot lately. Just like every suburban white kid.

Well it has been a while, hasn’t it? Schoolwork and women and a few nasty medical issues have kept me away from here – life likes to throw wrenches in our routines with crazy stuff like that. The other blogger on here is just super lazy and spends his time drunk go-karting in drag at weddings. Oh Gabriel, you and your antics. But that’s a story for another time, and I pwomise I’ll be posting more often in the coming months. Now I swore to myself that I would stop with these damn Spidey villain posts, I'm just so tired of them. But this one, this one I had to bang out -- it was born out of necessity. NECESSITY!! And besides, why not cap these off with a post on web-head's baddest baddie?*

*Personally I always thought Doc Ock was a better candidate for archenemy status. Stan agrees with me, so yeah. But, y'know, whatevs...

So here's how it all started: a couple months ago my friend Dom and I were watching the first Spider-Man movie with his buddies Tim and Seth. Right around the part where Willem Dafoe croaks out "Back to formula?", Dom turns to me and asks: “So what's Green Goblin’s deal, what makes him so significant as a Spider-Man villain? What makes him the archenemy?”

Good. Question.

A lot of the true believers have a really tough time with the Green Goblin. On one hand, he's supposedly the web-slinger's greatest nemesis. No other foe has made such an indelible mark on the mythos, has caused our hero so much grief and torment. On the other hand, he's so out of place with the rest of the rogues. He's a total anomaly; not a consciously boisterous showman, not a team player like the guys in the Sinister Six, not an animal-themed totem or a symbiote Doppelgänger - nothing about him syncs up. Worse still, Gobby simply seems to lack any deeper thematic significance, possessing none of those weighty opposites or parallels that drive the best superhero-villain relationships. He just doesn't appear to riff off of any aspects of Peter/Spidey in the way that a great supervillain, archenemy or not, should. Better men than I have tried to wrassle with GG with a good deal of success (here and here, you guys should read 'em and stuff), but every analysis I've come across can't help but fall a bit flat against the sheer enormity of the spider-goblin rivalry. It can't all come from the soap operatics and father-figure underpinnings - from the initial mystery of his identity, his personal connection to Peter and Harry, and the Night Gwen Stacy Died. There's got to be something about Osborn and his demon at the conceptual level that appeals to people, right?

Don't worry, there is! There is in spades!! And once we dig it out, you'll totally understand why this guy is Spider-Man's one true nemesis in the eyes of most fans.

But first, digression! So in one of my drama classes this year, Voice & Speech, we all had to recite a Shakespearean sonnet. One of the shier students was rehearsing hers for our teacher in front of the group, and to get her to project better the teacher asked her to sing the sonnet. This backfired rather ingloriously: the student’s voice began to diminish and waver with hesitation. She became apprehensive, started to choke up. The teacher kept pushing her and pushing her until eventually she broke down and started to cry – as we were all soon to discover in the coming moments, this girl was super self-conscious about her singing voice. So much so, in fact, that the whole ordeal was like a nightmare come to life for her. The class necessarily turned into a group therapy session, with the teacher taking the reigns: “We all have that voice in the back of our heads that just wants to get us down sometimes, and it can be hard. I have it too: 'Your boobs are too small.' 'You're getting old, getting ugly wrinkles on your face.' 'You're not a good actress.' But you know what? It's not helpful at all, and it's just plain wrong, so you've just got to find that little bastard telling you 'you're a bad singer' and tune it out. Get that goblin out of your head.”

“Get that goblin out of your head.”

That, that right there is what Osborn’s monster is all about.

You know those quirky indie dramadies where the protagonist’s insecurities manifest as physical people he can have a dialogue with? The Green Goblin is that for Peter. He’s the personification of all Peter’s nagging self-doubt, the voice in his head from where all his inner anxiety arises. We all have it to varying degrees, telling us there is something fundamentally wrong with your body or personality or thought process, etc. that makes you undesirable, inadequate, worthless, inferior.

And until you stop trying to fight it, that voice says, I’ll always be here, in the back of your head, to remind you again and again and again. Just when life seems to be getting good, I’ll be there to tell you all the reasons to hate yourself. I’ll be there to destroy everything you love and make your life miserable.

I’ll be there to drop your true love off a bridge and turn your best friend into a schizo suicidal junkie. Oh, and the Clone Saga, that too. Everybody lost out with that one.

Of course, while those guys in the movies are figments of some paranoid schmuck’s imagination, Gobby is a living, flesh-and-blood proxy, so he takes on a much more threatening antagonistic role. On the elevated plane of superheroics, where big ideas duke it out in the streets of Metropolis or Gotham, the inner conflict becomes externalized – the fight in Peter’s psyche is literalized into a physical brawl between two entities. That’s probably why GG won’t stay dead; you can triumph over your inner demons, but you can never quite get rid of them entirely.

Maybe that’s because they can be so damn tempting sometimes. The same voice that points out your perceived faults and misfortunes also has a habit of demanding retribution for them. To make others pay for the unfairness, the injustice of it all. It’s a bad emotional place that’s all too appealing to go to, encompassing jealousy, envy, anger towards the ex that cheated on or dumped you, resentment towards the bully that emasculates you, etc. etc. All that nasty Columbine-fuel.

Too soon? Too soon…

As you might expect, GG also embodies this aspect of Peter’s inner life. And so here, for context's sake, we find a relation between web-head's two most essential foes: if Doctor Octopus is what Spidey will become if he compromises his principles and succumbs to his own heaping angst, the Green Goblin is the voice in Spidey’s head telling him to do just that. He whispers into Peter’s ears: there’s always a way out, a way to free yourself and vent all your self-loathing away. Give up the good fight, don’t try to go against the tide of a cruel, apathetic world. Surrender to your frustration, your bitterness – let life make a cynic out of you. Lash out! It’s liberating! Just ask Norman, he’s so much better now…

And how does Norman factor into all this? It’s important to remember that Osborn was a nasty guy even before the accident, but he was motivated by a profound sense (more accurately misunderstanding) of responsibility. Like the rest of us, Norm had a goblin in his head too, reminding him over and over again of the enormous responsibilities he had - to his corporation, his thousands of employees, his clients, his son - all of which he was failing to meet. A mid-life crisis didn't do him any favors, either. So the pressure got to him and the voice in his head started calling the shots. When that serum exploded in his face and messed up his mind, his inner goblin took complete control...but not in the way it usually goes down. He didn’t succumb to it, a la Doc Ock with his never-ending insecurities, so much as he actually became it. And through this almost shamanistic process, he learned something: with great power comes freedom from responsibility!

So Gobbs puts on a crazy costume befitting his nature, and just like that he's a boogeyman straight out of some neurotic loser's nightmares, an embodiment of all his fears and doubts and emotional/psychological baggage. Problem is, GG doesn't have that neurotic loser to torment yet. But from the start he knows Spider-Man is the one. I mean look no further than the Goblin's debut in Amazing Spider-Man #14, where he tracks Spidey down and proposes that the two of them star in a Hollywood blockbuster together...which Spider-Man accepts!! It's so ridiculous, I love it. God those comics are fucking great. Their connection borders on supernatural or predestination, like that other great superhero rivalry. One simply can't exist without the other.



There's a concept that describes the relationship between the Green Goblin and our hero perfectly: duende. It's a term coined by Federico Garcia Lorca, borrowed from the mythical goblins (OH HO SEE WHUT I DID THAR) of Spanish/Latin American folklore. He describes duende as a mysterious, inexplicable force that arises from within us as a raw physical and emotional response. The kind of idea invoked by a Movement Techniques teacher when she wants you to do weird abstract performance art stuff (no one said drama majors take real classes). In Lorca's context, the duende is a demonic spirit who allows an artist to see the limitations of rationality. It brings the artist face-to-face with death and pure emotional experience, all to help him produce truly great art. The artist does not simply surrender to duende, however, but skillfully battles it in hand-to-hand combat; through this process the art is created (all of this has been ripped pretty shamelessly from In Search of Duende, if anyone's interested). Replace duende with Gobbs and the artist with Spidey and you've got some seriously meta shit going on there.

Duende actually popped up in Batman Inc. #3 last March, where Bruce Wayne described it more generally as "the fierce lust for life when we feel and express when we know death is near." Among the elements that comprise duende are irrationality, diabolicalness and a heightened awareness of death...all of which also describe Gobby pretty well, don't they? He's certainly diabolical, and anybody who rides on a glider like that without a goddamn helmet has the death drive thing down. He's obviously irrational, too - we're talking about a guy who spends his nights in a lab building grenades that look like pumpkins, like actually taking the time to make sure they look like pumpkins. What kind of fucking freak does that?

Maybe the kind who spends his nights in his foster parents' basement building wrist-mounted devices to shoot high-tensile silly string? (Don't even get me started on that organic webbing bullshit) Spider-Man was a hero conceived with a deliberately icky edge, and most of Spidey's rogues are extensions of his murkier dimensions, extensions which must at least potentially exist deep within Pete's psyche. Like a corrupt, malicious version of duende the Green Goblin wants to bring all that darkness out, which is why he brings Peter face-to-face with irrationality and diabolicalness and death. Ever since his first appearance in Amazing #14, where Ditko drew the Goblin as a carnivalesque monster, his cartoonish features grotesquely incongruous with the sickly realism that informed the rest of the art. Ever since his master plan in Amazing #39 which, as simple as it was, to this day remains one of the most demoniac in supervillain history. Ever since his apparent demise in Amazing #122, when Gwen Stacy snapped her neck and everything changed forever.

I imagine the Green Goblin finds this renewed-self-confidence-nobody-dies phase going on in Peter's life right now to be so adorably quaint. You can bet that he'll be the one to end it. Sometimes just when you think you've conquered your demons, they come back stronger than ever before.

Tune in next time for a review of the revamped Spidey musical, fresh off its month-long hiatus. Guess what guys, it's not that bad anymore! I mean, it's not great, I'd hesitate before even calling it good, but it's a far, far cry from the shitshow trainwreck I saw in February. Hooray!!

Rock Down to Electro Avenue

Before we get into anything, wasn't the first issue of Venom supposed to come out Wednesday? Was it delayed or are writing these posts just driving me insane? I mean, I got the last issue of Joe the Barbarian (which was OH MY GOD SO AMAZING AND FANTASTIC AND HEARTWARMING AND WONDERFUL AND PERFECT IN EVERY WAY), but still.

I wanted that damn Venom comic.

Moving on...


Hey look another Spidey post!

After I finished writing my Mysterio posts (Part I, Part II), I started to think about the one other classic Spider-Man villain I don't really "get": Electro. He was a comparatively late addition to my knowledge of the Spider-Man mythos since he didn't appear in the 90s cartoon...you know, the one with the ballin' theme song (I think the reason was because he and the Sandman were slated to be villains in James Cameron's Spider-Man film, before it fell through). The first time I ever encountered Electro was when I went to the Islands of Adventure in the summer of 2001 and saw him in the Spidey ride. The moment I saw him, I immediately short-circuited; I was instantly captivated by the character, I assume because it is an established fact that lightning powers are fucking cool as shit. The power surge going on in my brain only got worse when I got Enter Electro later that summer, although I had to trade it in for the World Trade Center-less re-release after the ramifications of September 11th hit me (we could hear the plane crash into the Pentagon from my elementary school, which was probably the most terrifying sound I've ever heard. Debbie Downer, I know).

As I got older, the sparks began to fade. Yes, lightning powers are fucking cool as shit, but other than that Electro doesn't have much going for him. The problem is that Max Dillon doesn't have a discernible character. He's entirely defined by his powers because nothing else is there. That would be fine if he were just any supervillain - in fact that's the standard for most supervillains - but he's a goddamn Spider-Man foe, those guys are supposed to have complex personalities! I need more from my baddies - why bother with the hundreds of Omega Reds when there are Jokers out there? By the time I started reading the Mindless Ones and other superhero academia blogs, now over three years ago, I was ready to turn off the power on Electro once and for all.

But over the past couple days I've given it a lot of thought, and now my enthusiasm for him has been completely recharged. It wasn't you, Electro, it was me all along.


And yes, there will be more lame electricity puns as this post goes along. Deal.

Numerous places on the intarwebz tell me that Electro suffers from an enormous inferiority complex, that his air of pomposity is a front to compensate for true feelings of low self-esteem and inadequacy. That has a lot of interesting potential as a villainous reflection of Peter Parker's never-ending self-doubt, but here's the rub: I've never - NEVAR!! - encountered an Electro story that actually addresses this element of his character. After a wee bit of research, I found that the inferiority complex idea stems from a single two-issue story arc from 1997, Amazing #422-423, which reveals that as a child Max was always told by his mother he would never amount to anything. How shocking. I guess Marvel decided it wouldn't hurt to give yet another of their villains a clichéd, pop psychology-influenced childhood backstory. Like most mainstream superhero tales from the 90s, the arc is a hot sack of garbage, poorly-written and against the spirit of the original Spider-Man comics. Since the events in this story have never been brought up in anything since and not a single comics writer has revisited this inferiority complex, let's zap it once and for all right here. Cool.

Since the greatest Spidey tales are true to the spirit of the original stories, let's go back to the source material: Amazing Spider-Man #9, Electro's debut. As much as I want to rave about the electrifying fight scene at the issue's climax, let's focus on the villain's Steve Ditko-designed costume. It's telling that the face mask is what immediately draws our attention; the over-sized lightning bolts emanate on top of and around his head, like a crown or a halo, framing his static mug within the center of a star. From this we can tell pretty unequivocally that Electro has a very, very positive opinion of himself. This douchey arrogance is evident in Max's personality even before the power line accident gave him fucking cool as shit lightning powers (remember these guys? They, Franz, Sufjan and Spoon were totally my eighth grade soundtrack. Good times):


60s superhero comics are a lot like Shakespeare in that they don't contain subtext as we understand the term (e.g. Chekhov); everything you need to know is right there in the text, and can be taken at face value. We don't need to go through hoops to figure out what is going on in Hamlet's head - he lays out exactly what he's thinking in all those long-ass soliloquies, no more and no less. With 60s superhero comics, not only do we have information similarly revealed to us in lengthy speech balloon monologues, we also have thought balloons, the omniscient, objective narration in caption boxes, and of course in the images themselves. So since it isn't explicitly stated - unlike, say, the reason JJJ hates our friendly neighborhood wall-crawler - we know that Electro's supercharged hubris is entirely genuine in nature, free of any hidden pathos.

This conception of Electro, as a villain completely lacking in baggage, makes him unique among web-head's social outcast enemies; Osborn and Connors both vainly struggle to contain the very different monsters within them; the Sandman is a good guy at heart who bemoans constantly getting pushed back into crime; Eddie Brock tries to maintain his honor and humanity over the forces of addiction even after society turned its back on him; Doc Ock is the fuggin' poster child of the neurotic villain (if any Spidey foe has an inferiority complex, it's unquestionably him); Kraven - Christ, poor Kraven - became so psychotically distraught over not living up to his moniker "the Hunter" that he blew his brains out. In all these rogues we have reflections of our hero's own emotional insecurity. In Electro, we find a much-needed antithesis.

Electro should always be enthusiastically crackling with energy, always turned on, always concerned only with the bright side of his chosen vocation - a light bulb come to life. Passionately blinded with bright, white-hot pride; filled with destructive power that rages forward, authoritatively crashing down from the heavens with the force and speed of unwavering determination. Just as Spidey's ability to stick/cling to any surface with Van der Waals super-strength represents his capacity to hold on and endure - to firmly entrench himself as the immovable object, confront wave after wave of the irresistible force and rise above it - so too are Electro's powers an extension of his character. In fact, other than his costume they're the only insight into him we get. So Electro, embodying the qualities we metaphorically associate with lightning and electricity, must never question or second-guess himself, so arrogantly overconfident in his actions that self-satisfaction permeates him like a current.

(I'll stop with the electricity references now. You can thank me later.)


Look at that shit-eating grin! That smug sonofabitch!!

I should point out that Electro isn't naïve or stupid. He's no genius, but Max Dillon is an intelligent, talented guy who's damn competent at what he does. And even though Spidey will always send him back to the slammer, Electro has no reason to ever doubt himself or think himself a failure (I'll get to why later, for now just trust me that it makes sense). I imagine Electro does really well in prison, too - I mean you literally can't touch the guy, try any shit with dropped soap and you get fried to a crisp.

But back to Electro's duds. Have any of you Spider-Fans noticed anything a bit...off about his costume compared to the other classic villains? The Green Goblin looks like he came from Halloween on Middle-Earth. Doctor Octopus, the Sandman and the Lizard all wear street clothes (Doc Ock didn't get a spandex costume until John Romita started drawing him, and it's telling that when most people think of Otto's wardrobe they envision the simple trench coats from Spider-Man 2, Ultimate Spider-Man and the Spectacular cartoon). Mysterio has the esoteric crystal ball/fishbowl thing going on...and the eyeball broaches...and the weird gauntlets...and the dizzying criss-cross pattern. The Vulture has massive feather wings covering his arms and what looks like a fur collar around his neck. Kraven the Hunter wears a goddamn lion's face as a vest.

Electro is the only one whose costume is entirely composed of the standard superhero/villain tights ensemble. With the exception of Venom and his kin, Electro is the only Spider-Man rogue whose costume bears a recognizable similarity to Spidey's. In his original appearances, he also used a specific hand gesture to sling his lightning bolts, yet another parallel between him and the web-slinger (and yet another element lost when Romita took over art duties on Amazing, although to be fair I never give him the credit he rightfully deserves).


More importantly, the costume establishes Electro as a "traditional," in many ways archetypal, supervillain. What motivates this standard, villain-of-the-week brand of foe? It's never made explicit, because these types of enemies are usually created solely to give the hero something to do...but that doesn't mean it isn't obvious. Although they're usually bank robbers and thieves, greed is never the true motivation. If it was, they would wear something more practical than their outlandish, unique, individualizing full-body costumes. I imagine those are both very incriminating and very easy to spot.

No, no, what really motivates these types of super-criminals is fame, renown. They want to be important. They want to be remembered. They want other people to know who they are. With today's celebrity-obsessed culture, particularly now that anyone with a computer can have their fifteen minutes of fame, these previously one-dimensional rogues are now probably the most believable villains in comics.

And THAT'S why, no matter how many times he gets beaten and thrown back into jail, Electro should never have a moment of discouragement or self-doubt. He's achieved his goal: through sheer persistence - a negative appropriation of what Spider-Man fundamentally represents - he's managed to climb to the highest echelons of the supervillain community. He was inaugurated into the original Sinister Six and will always be considered among the top 10 Spidey foes. Hell, he'll always be considered one of the greatest comic book villains of all time. As long as he keeps breaking out and keeps doing bad shit, he's golden. Electro is the paragon of an entire category of supervillain - he's the bad guy that the Spots and Rhinos and Shockers wish they could be. Because of his undaunted persistence, everyone in the Marvel Universe knows who Electro is.

Well, persistence and fucking cool as shit lightning powers.


Of course that doesn't mean greed isn't a big part of what Electro does. From his first appearance as a master thief to hijacking the NYSE in his most recent starring role, it's pretty much the only thing he does, actually. Which, while lamentably one-note, is a natural thematic outgrowth of his character. Max wants/needs money, and he honestly believes he's so awesome that he's bloody entitled to whatever he desires. His superiority complex overrides any sense of moral decency; Electro takes anything he thinks should rightfully be his, simple as that. And wealth is the most obvious indicator of importance, after all. "Jewels! Money! No matter how much I take, I want more--much more!," Electro declares in Amazing #9. "And with my great power, nothing can stop me from getting it!" It's an effective contrast to Peter Parker, who could easily use his powers to end the financial straits he's historically been stuck in, but has the steadfast moral grounding - the sense of great responsibility - to choose otherwise.

On top of all this, I like to think that Electro is perceptive enough to see through Peter's caddy facade as the carefree Spider-Man, that he can sense the deep insecurity belying Spidey's snappy one-liners. Electro must relish it; it has to make him all the more smug, all the more self-confident knowing that his enemy is a neurotic, self-conscious wreck while he himself is so free. Spider-Man may always defeat Electro in battle, but it's clear to Max which one of them is a winner and which is a loser. Electro is literally and metaphorically untouchable; he almost reminds me of the Joker from The Dark Knight, endlessly mocking Batman by the virtue of his very existence - "You have nothing to threaten me with, nothing to do with all your strength!"

What a douche.

Electro's unrestrained, self-actualizing freedom, and ESPECIALLY his indestructible self-assurance must make Peter so fucking envious. Max Dillon is everything Peter wishes he could be - everything he self-destructively tries to be as Spider-Man - except unapologetically shallow and just plain evil, in true Ditko fashion. Every nerd who wished they could be the jock: why don't I have a shred of confidence, why won't these personal demons just go away, why can't I get rid of all this fucking angst?! I HAVE SUCH DOUBTS!!! Well you can down all the Muscle Milk you want, Puny Parker, but you can't change who you are. Just stick to your own kind and be thankful you're funny.

So. Fucking. Cruel. I love it!

...

Did I mention that lightning powers are fucking cool as shit?

Just making sure.