The Four Color Media Monitor

The far-left Comics Beat put together a list of what they consider the best 100 comics of the past decade, and at least several examples here are pretty smutty and insulting. For example, they cite Archie's forced entry into horror-thriller style stories:

Like many great comics, Afterlife with Archie came from the humblest of beginnings: a variant cover of Life with Archie #23 (2013) by Francesco Francavilla. But the reader response to the variant was so great that Francavilla and Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa launched the horror series later that year, along with Jack Morelli on letters.

The horrific story opens with Jughead’s beloved pet Hot Dog dead after being hit by a car. Desperate to revive his canine companion, Jughead heads across the border from Riverdale into Greendale, begging Sabrina and her aunts to lend their magic to his cause. Sabrina’s aunts evoke Stephen King’s Pet Semetary, telling Jughead that “sometimes, dead is better.” However, Jughead is inconsolable, and he convinces Sabrina to help him bring Hot Dog back… and reader, the consequences are dire. What will happen to Riverdale when Jughead’s unholy hunger is no longer for hamburgers, but for human flesh…?

It'll become as much an embarrassment as the publisher itself has, ever since they made a hard turn left. And then, what's this about Kelly Sue deConnick's Bitch Planet GN, which was a social justice project:

Bitch Planet is a book that’s gotten me through some immensely difficult times in my life. It is a dark look at a future that is not as distant as we’d like, but distant enough to not be too real. The characters are all fantastic, and impressively intersectional. Privilege and class are examined thoroughly, and race plays an integral role in the story. All different body types are represented, a thing too often ignored in the comic medium.

Valentine DeLandro does a fantastic job of making each character look and feel unique, and Kelly Sue DeConnick does the same for their voices and personalities. Most of all, Bitch Planet has provided me with a sense of inclusion as a trans reader. More often than not, when feminist stories get told, they focus only on cis women, and don’t think about how their plots would affect trans people. This was not the case with Bitch Planet. The only thing I wish for this book, is that it would start coming out again; I miss it.

From what the "character" who wrote this item's described, I wouldn't miss it at all. Man, deConnick really is that bad a lot. No wonder her take on Carol Danvers was so repellently masculine. What kind of self-respecting women would like that? Judging from sales receipts for too many multiple volumes, not many did. Most galling about this is how the "opinionator" can't seem to tell the difference between sci-fi and reality, which appears to be a sad staple of these propagandists demanding quotas to meet their crazed ideologies. Next comes a fawning take on Mark Waid's Daredevil run:

This is my favorite superhero run. It’s impossible to encapsulate everything it means to me in 150 words. I won’t try. The bulk of these 60-odd issues were drawn by Chris Samnee, easily among the best cartoonists today. He didn’t join until about a year in, but early contributions by Paolo Rivera (inked by father Joe) and Marcos Martin rank among the most impressive superhero work of the decade, bolstered by breathtaking colorists like Javier Rodriguez and Matthew Wilson. Guest artists like Emma Rios and the Allreds are GOAT-worthy, and it’s all lettered by Joe Caramagna, one of the most inventive letterers in the business.

But it’s Mark Waid’s vision of a man desperately trying, and often failing, to overcome his depression that makes this chapter of Daredevil’s long life a masterpiece. I don’t have room to elaborate further. Just read it, and if you’re anything like me, be transformed.

No thank you. Anybody who calls a book that contained leftist propaganda "my favorite" run can't possibly be a fan of superhero comics from a time when they had better meaning. It gets worse, though. Here's their take on Mark Russell's corruption of Hanna-Barbera cartoons:

Mark Russell has proven himself to be one of the best writers of the last decade, and did so with titles I truly never expected to be as good as they were. Flintstones interrogates the pitfalls of capitalism. Wonder Twins tackles toxic masculinity, racism, and cultural biases. Second Coming looks at religion and the hero’s journey. But Exit Stage Left: The Snagglepuss Chronicles is probably his most poignant work to date, taking a deep look at a very dark time in our country’s history, while at the same time focusing on the parallels we see in America today.

Using Snagglepuss to tell this story makes it more palatable for people who may otherwise ignore or berate it, and makes it more accessible to those who want to read the story. It is a stark examination of homophobia, what art means, and dread of looming in the spectre of nuclear annihilation. And because of that, a comic about a pink cartoon cat became one of the most important books of the decade.

Yawn. This was written by the same clown who gushed over Bitch Planet, and suggests he's got quite an anti-heterosexual bias of his own, seeing how he talks about what the left now regards as "toxic masculinity". So in the twisted mindsets of people like that, a man who falls in love with a woman is a "deviant", and I guess a woman who falls in love with a man is too. Orwellianism at its worst. And he thinks using existing products will actually ensure merit and meaning, instead of abusing the creations as Russell did. The attack on capitalism is a turnoff too. There's also this brief about Girl Town that's fishy:

What is there not to love about Girl Town? From the very start of the collection of short comics, the nature of the female identity and female-identifying relationships is put at the forefront. Not only is the cast of characters in each little vignette ripe with women of all shapes, sizes, and colors, but each relationship shown presents a wide range of what it inherently means to identify as a woman.

There’s no clear and fixed way to categorize the amalgamation of themes that Nowak has collected here, nor is there a way to fit the vivid, clean artwork into a box; but all of it combines to make a heartfelt, hilarious, and completely wacky message of inclusion.

There's no way to draw a conclusion other than that this could contain a lot of the same social justice propaganda as some of the other examples feature involving the transgender ideology. It certainly won't be a surprise if so. Next, they even decided to add Jonathan Hickman's X-Men titles to the list:

There was a bit of debate here at The Beat about including House of X and Powers of X in the The Beat’s Best of the Decade list. They were just released. Would they stand the test of time? But HoX/PoX won out for a spot on the list, and deservedly so. I was perfectly fine with skipping the latest X-Men reboot and renumbering. How many of those have we seen this decade? But when House of X #1 dropped, a friend bought me a copy after reading it, not wanting me to miss out. And I’m glad he did.

House of X #1 had me interested in reading the next issue in this duo limited series telling one story, but it was House of X #2 that blew my mind and made this the must-read book of 2019. Confession: I love House of X #2 so much that I hunted down that ultra-limited virgin variant cover of it. Jonathan Hickman has big plans for the X-Men and the other Marvel mutants, and the foundation of that plan is built in these 12 issues. If you haven’t read House of X and Powers of X yet, you should, as the rest of Hickman’s X-book run may be on our next Best of the Decade list 10 years from now. Get in on the ground floor.

You could ask the same question about some of the more SJW-themed titles they've listed, and they go past their sell-by-date even faster than Hickman's books do. On which note, I guess they believe turning Moira MacTaggart into the umpteenth mutant doesn't diminish the impact in any way. I think I'll even comment on an item called "How to Understand Israel in 60 Days or Less" which contained leftist propaganda:

You could argue that Sarah Glidden’s Rolling Blackouts is a more polished work, but How to Understand Israel in 60 Days or Less more or less kicked off a whole sub-genre of comics — politically aware young women exploring their cultures and dealing with the good, the bad and the ugly. Publishers have been looking for another Persepolis for years, but Glidden gave the comics memoir a new, objective spin and helped her become one of the most important comics journalists of the decade.

Glidden recounts her “Birthright” trip to Israel — a journey open to Jews between the ages of 18 and 26 — and finds that the truth about the stories she’s been told, and her preconceived notions about these stories, is far more complicated. With a keenly-observed, gentle watercolor style that screams “reliable narrator,” Glidden explores her heritage, her emotions and one of the world’s most complicated political situations.

From what I found out about this, it was built on a leftist viewpoint, by an illustrator who clearly doesn't consider Golda Meir her kind of leftist, as she believes there's literally an Islamic state of "palestine", and considers Israel the aggressor. Pure disgrace. Then, there comes their fawning take on Al Ewing's "Immortal Hulk":

Hulk and horror are both on just one side of the coin. Whether it’s Frankenstein or Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, the big angry green one is inseparable from fear and terror. Al Ewing’s and Joe Bennett’s take on the character fully embraces the horror and takes into an existential plane of thought to explore what it actually means to be a superhero that’s so scary to so many.

The creators knew bringing the series into horror territory required a deep exploration of the character’s extremes but also his history. The book does an excellent job of digging into the trauma of Bruce Banner and how it’s affected and infected those closest to him. They perfectly capture the frustrations and anxieties that come with being such a destructive force and the character’s signature rage is given new purpose as it terrifies more than it inspires. In doing so, Ewing and Bennett have given us one of the best superhero comics of the decade, with more to come. You’ll never be as terrified as you will be reading Immortal Hulk.

And why do you believe I want to be terrified in the ways of a horror thriller as far as the Hulk is concerned? I'm not impressed with this garbage either. Just another pathetic outgrowth of the Alonso era, tossing the jade giant into the horror genre for the sake of it. They go on to take a look at an indie item called "Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me":

This is a beautiful illustrated story about a very ugly relationship. Framed around letters being written by Freddy Riley to an advice columnist, the middle-grade graphic novel follows her doomed romance with the titular Laura Dean. While Freddy (and the reader) know that the relationship can’t last from the first pages, it’s impossible not to get swept along in the drama.

The tale of torrid love is set against the breathtaking background of Oakland, California, brought to life by Rosemary Valero-O’Connell’s exceptional art, which is given an irresistible stylistic flourish by the use of only one color aside from black and white: pink. While conversations regarding the use of labels in the queer community and issues with those closet to her take place in the background, Freddy can’t quite focus on anything aside from Laura Dean — an issue that the reader will share upon opening the cover to this book.

And it sounds like this book can't quite focus on anything other than SJW propaganda. Which is what the next example, Lumberjanes, does too:

There are a few reasons why BOOM! Studios’ Lumberjanes should be on your reading list. It’s a ton of fun and filled with humor and adventure. The all-female series features distinct, relatable personalities in its main cast (the chaotic Ripley is my favorite), but at its core the book is about friendship. It deftly demonstrates how girls can — and will — support and help each other even when faced with freaky, otherworldly situations in what should be a mundane summer camp setting. The theme extends to the “adults” too. When the Roanoke cabin goes against the rules of Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hardcore Lady Types (which is pretty much daily), their counselor Jen protects them, despite being scared that they are missing or that her job might be in jeopardy if camp leader Rosie finds out. (Rosie, by the way, is a purposeful nod to Rosie the Riveter, an icon of American feminism.)

The all-ages book also positively depicts a spectrum of female relationships. There are platonic friendships, girl crushes, trans characters, sisterly connections, and more. Most importantly though, each installment makes you feel a little better than you did before.

Correction: gushing over this trash makes the reviewer feel better than before, in a classic example of virtue-signaling. Which, come to think of it, is what they were doing when they added the now notorious Tom King's Mr. Miracle miniseries to the mess:

Ladies and gentlemen, do you have what it takes to handle the terrifying, vaudevillian wonder that is Mister Miracle? Step right up and find out! A continuation of the Fourth World characters and concepts created by Jack Kirby, Mister Miracle follows Scott Free, the world’s best escape artist, as he struggles to balance a normal life with a cosmic war between good and evil deities. Nothing is as it seems in this series though, with each new nine panel grid making the reader and Scott question his reality.

Despite the creeping sense of dread and confusion that grows with every issue, Tom King is able to retain a sense of brevity and humor thanks to the inclusion of mundane (yet amazing) moments like Darkseid eating carrots from a veggie tray. It turns out the God of Evil may be a double dipper, not that that should surprise anyone. Mister Miracle himself may receive top-billing, but his wife Big Barda is an equally important player in the limited series and steals much of the show whenever she’s on the page. King has created a lane for himself writing really touching romantic stories, showing how partners interact and feed off each other in private moments or while in battle, and teamed with Mitch Gerads’ expressive art it’s hard not to fall in love with this couple.

Blah, blah, blah, blah. These phonies sure are full of themselves. So much they made sure to stuff the Muslim Ms. Marvel into an already boring list:

Kamala Khan is incredible, easily the decade’s best superhero. Nerd, fan first and hero second, super in spirit before gaining any powers. Her compassion is greater than her super strength – but it’s that teenager mega-passion compassion that leads to trouble. Ms. Marvel nails the Spidey situation where Kamala has to get through school and be a good daughter and maybe kiss people sometimes but also she’s an Avenger! FYI clones do not solve this problem. You’ve got modern street-level hero conflict (re: gentrification) but with amplified silliness due to the Marvel world of high school science labs with Tony Stark technology grants.

Ms. Marvel captures a world of impossible tights and even more impossible science with consistently superior art teams, its look more Image and indie than industrial. A book both sophisticated and fun. Who but Kamala Khan stands as the paragon of today’s hero for today’s reader?

No mention of how average whites are denigrated early in the run, the Islamic taqqiya, or how limp the art actually is, or the election propaganda, or anything other troubling elements that turned up. There's also this indie item called "Nimona" to ponder:

What if “good” and “evil” aren’t so black and white? What if family is a super villain and his self-assigned apprentice, who just so happens to be a chaotic shapeshifter with a chip on her shoulder the size of the galaxy? Noelle Stevenson all but burst onto the comics scene with her webcomic Nimona, which has since become a best-selling graphic novel and a National Book Award finalist, in addition to being one of the most beloved fantasy stories to come out of the last decade.

This book has incredible queer representation, memorable characters who carve their way into your heart and refuse to leave, and an ending that is genuinely perfect. There was nothing quite like the feeling of having to wait for updates on this comic each week, and reading it again as one continuous story felt just as special.

Keep going, and bore us out of our skulls, please. If there was a GN about homosexuals trying to change their way of living to heterosexual, it'd never make the list. On the other hand, what else does includes Dan Slott's take on Silver Surfer:

The 2010s’ most prominent run on Silver Surfer — by writer Dan Slott, artist Michael Allred, and colorist Laura Allred — is a rare thing: a corporate superhero comic that pushes the medium while also speaking honestly to the beauty and sadness of our shared human condition. Spanning 29 issues, the Slott/Allred run of Silver Surfer began in 2014 and concluded in 2017. It was, in a word, wonderful. In it, the creators played with form, gleefully, telling stories that only work within comics (see Silver Surfer #11). They also set a longing tone rich with intimacy, making it feel throughout as if the Surfer and his earth-born companion Dawn Greenwood (a character taken right from the real world) were the only beings in the universe who truly mattered.

With Allred’s unparalleled pop art and Slott’s sensitive scripting, this forlorn and romantic story followed galactic adventures that also explored relatable companionship, tackling everything from how it feels to be away from family to the fear we all carry of losing the one closest to us. A stunning and seemingly timeless work, Silver Surfer is easily one of the best comics of the last decade.

How predictable their fawning's become by now. It happens yet again with this next trans-propaganda item called "Late Bloomer":

Kaye is one of many trans creators that became more visible in this decade, and Super Late Bloomer is just one of many trans stories that are rising in prominence. As another trans woman who started transitioning later in life (right around the same age as Julia Kaye did herself, actually), this book resonates with me. I read most of it when it was still a webcomic, and have been following her on Twitter for years, so going back to it felt a bit like going home. I see so much of my own struggles and worries in these short, cute little strips, that it makes me feel like I have a place. I too have deleted old Facebook photos (in my case I nuked my whole pre-transition account) and have dealt with unsupportive family.

Everything Kaye references in these very personal pieces is something I too have dealt with, at least to some small extent. I don’t make as much time as I used to for webcomics, but I’m very glad I sat down and read through all of this again.

At this point, I almost feel sorry for the poseur who's fawning over these embarrassments, which serve as prime examples of the noxious propaganda this awful site's pushing now. To the point he'd throw away pictures of his old life, implying he despises what he is, and that's another Orwellian concept. Another one they added was Jason Aaron's Thor mishmash:

Throughout this decade, when people would ask me which is Marvel’s best book, whatever Thor series was then currently being written by Jason Aaron was consistently my answer. This surprised them, and surprised me as well. Outside of Walt Simonson’s run, Thor has never really been my cup of tea. But from 2012 to 2019, Jason Aaron, alongside such esteemed artists as Esad Ribic, Russell Dauterman and Mike Del Mundo, among others, made Thor essential reading. Aaron spun a tale so epic that it puts him on a very short list of one of the best Thor writers ever. And the artwork throughout the series has been nothing but gorgeous, featuring a wide range of styles united by how great they all look.

This run of Thor influenced the Marvel Cinematic Universe, inspiring Thor’s loss of Mjolnir in Thor: Ragnarok and the upcoming Jane Foster as Thor movie, Love and Thunder, starring Natalie Portman. This epic run culminated in this year’s massive company-wide crossover, War of the Realms. It was fitting to have their Thor’s end run touch into nearly every Marvel book on the stands, as Thor has elevated Marvel almost the entirety of this decade.

They must truly love sugarcoating this icky propaganda. Right down to the repetitive reliance on crossovers. They continue to fawn over the Squirrel Girl stupidity:

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl is unlike any series that came before it, and it’s unlikely there will ever be another series like it. Creators Ryan North, Erica Henderson, and Derek Charm crafted a corner of the Marvel Universe in which the day was saved not by punching things into submission, but simply by being kind. The world desperately needs Squirrel Girl and her friends, and we were lucky to have had them for as long as we did.

Nope. We were not lucky to have this unprofessionally developed indie-style balderdash heaped upon us. Nor were we lucky to have Tom King's Vision:

This probably reveals a lot about my age — but The Vision is what got me into comics. Its reliance on continuity, without ever becoming inaccessible, makes for a uniquely comic book story brimming with decisive prose and introspective panels. King, Gabriel Walta and Jordie Bellaire showed this young reader how powerful words, lines and colors can be when they’re working in concert. Yes, it reignited conversations about the nine panel grid and can probably be pointed to as the impetus for the last four years of Batman; but instead let’s talk about themes.

This story of robots, existence and drama is, to me, a cautionary tale about pursuing normalcy (and one that I should remind myself of more often). As the Visions show, trying to be something you’re not, especially when that something is as contradictory as human, is dangerous at worst and folly at best. And it managed to say it all with nearly 45 years worth of continuity.

Another example of overrated tales by a pretentious writer boosted through biases news sources to be something he's not serving as the alleged decision by somebody who obviously never cared for comics to suddenly enter them. What's more, I highly doubt it's respectable of continuity, seeing how Marvel destroyed it in nearly 2 decades. Ironically, what they say about trying to be something you're not could perfectly describe transgender ideology. Then, there comes more LGBT propaganda called "The Witch Boy":

With The Witch Boy Trilogy — The Witch Boy, The Hidden Witch, and The Midwinter Witch — Molly Knox Ostertag introduces a world where magic is gendered along binary lines, but Aster has no desire to learn shapeshifting like the other boys. As he attempts to become a witch, the same way the girls do, he makes a new friend named Charlie, and their adventures are as fun and affirming as they are intense and action-packed.

This middle grade graphic novel series is colorful, magical, and deeply queer, with gorgeous art and writing from Ostertag, whose award-winning, evocative work always pushes boundaries in unique ways. We need more kids’ books that explore queer themes in a way that’s safe for those who can’t read stories with blatant queer rep in the title or on the cover; we need more kids’ books that explore queer themes, period, from #OwnVoices creators. In a sea of great releases from the 2010s, Ostertag’s The Witch Boy trilogy stands out for its powerful narrative and perfectly-executed art.

So, another somebody who believes this kind of sexuality-based theme must be taught to children, is even remotely suitable for them, or more precisely, should be depicted positively. Truly awful. And that's why Comics Beat is not suitable a site for children.

If anything, this whole list demonstrates just how badly overrun the independent comics scene is with leftist ideology that's unhealthy for anybody. No wonder the medium's collapsing.

Labels: animation, Archie, crossoverloading, dc comics, dreadful artists, indie publishers, islam and jihad, licensed products, marvel comics, moonbat writers, msm propaganda, politics, violence