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There was some speculation, not just here at the Crisis On Infinite Midlives Home Office, but around the Western comic reading world, that Karen Berger’s exit as Executive Editor of Vertigo Comics, combined with the cancellation of Vertigo’s longest running title, Hellblazer, to move the character full time to the DC Universe, might mean the end of the imprint completely. Because surely, anything that could kill John Constantine, be it demon, cultist or “Corporate Synergy Consultant,” would think nothing of wiping out his friends, too.

Well, it looks like we were wrong, at least for the time being. Because DC Entertainment has just announced the promotion of Hellblazer, Lucifer and Fables Editor Shelly Bond to Executive Editor, as well as promotions for Scalped and 100 Bullets Editor Will Dennis, and for American Vampire Editor Mark Doyle as well.

So unless this secretly is one of those “Johnny Fallguy Named CEO of ENRON” kinda deals, it looks like the Vertigo line will still be around. For at least a while.

You can check out DC’s full press release after the jump.

It’s been while since the 1990s glory days of Vertigo Comics, when books like Sandman, Hellblazer, Shade The Changing Man, Y: The Last Man and Preacher stomped on the terra and helped solidify the concept that comics weren’t for children anymore. These days, it feels like Vertigo is down to what feels like a few miniseries, some original graphic novels and Fables, and with the recent announcement of the cancellation of Hellblazer, it has seemed like the imprint has been at a crossroads. And, as anyone who’s ever listened to Robert Johnson knows, good shit never happens at the crossroads.

And today is living proof. DC Comics has announced that Karen Berger, the longtime Executive Editor of Vertigo Comics, is leaving the company at the end of first quarter 2013.

DC’s official announcement is after the jump.

I studied journalism when I was in college in the late 1980s / early 1990s, and one of the things I learned was the inverted pyramid lead, which means to open your story with the most important hard information. So, since it was one of the most important things I learned back then, I’ll go with it here.

DC Comics has cancelled John Constantine: Hellblazer. The comic, published under DC’s Vertigo Comics imprint, will conclude in February with its 300th issue, written by Peter Milligan with art by Giuseppe Camuncoli. The long-running comic, written for a mature, adult audience, will be replaced with a new comic series, Constantine, written by Robert Venditti with pencils by Renato Guedes. The new series, which will be published under the standard DC Comics bullet, will take place in DC’s superhero-filled New 52 Universe, and will be reportedly feature the younger, more action-oriented version of the John Constantine character as currently seen in Justice League Dark.

About the cancellation, DC Comics co-publisher Dan DiDio said:

We’re supremely proud of Vertigo’s HELLBLAZER, one of the most critically-acclaimed series we’ve published. Issue #300 concludes this chapter of Constantine’s epic, smoke-filled story in style and with the energy, talent and creativity fans have come to expect from Peter Milligan, Giuseppe Camuncoli and Stefano Landini. And no one should worry that John is going to hang-up his trenchcoat – he lives on in March, in the pages of the all-new DC Comics New 52 ongoing series, CONSTANTINE, by writer Robert Venditti and artist Renato Guedes.

The series, which expanded the story of the John Constantine character created by comics legend Alan Moore during his classic run on Swamp Thing, debuted as a DC Comic in 1988 and was written by Jamie Delano and drawn by John Ridgeway. Moving to DC’s more mature Vertigo imprint in 1993, the book featured work by comic legends Garth Ennis, Warren Ellis, Paul Jenkins and Brian Azzarello, as well as many others, throughout its nearly quarter-century history.

Constantine is expected to debut in February, 2013.

Okay, that’s the classic news version. My journalism professors, one of whom once looked me in the face and said, “You smell like a three-day dead dog in the dump tank of a whiskey distillery. Sit in the back, please,” would, for once, be proud. However, like the one, older professor who once slipped me a copy of Hunter Thompson’s Fear and Loathing on The Campaign Trail after defending me in a meeting to determine if I should be ejected from the journalism department after writing a story about the college’s president that included the term, “goatfucker” taught me: classic journalism isn’t always properly equipped to capture the whole truth.

Most of the SDCC 2012 panels we covered, we did thusly: I sat with a fat boy notebook and a pen, furiously taking notes and grabbing quotes in between taking photos of things that panelists would prefer I didn’t, while Amanda live-Tweeted the hell out of everything anyone said. As such, we walked out of each panel with a wealth of information and still photographs of each panel, but without an ability to truly absorb and enjoy some of the things we saw and heard.

The Vertigo Comics panel for the graphic novel Get Jiro was different. Amanda is a big fan of Get Jiro writer and celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain’s TV shows A Cook’s Tour and No Reservations, and as such, she hissed at me at the start of the panel, “I will Tweet this pig, but we’ve already reviewed the book, so I want you to videotape as much of this as you can so that I can enjoy it later. Otherwise, you’re reading me Kitchen Confidential through the bathroom door while I bubble bath with the shower massager. Again.” Or something like that, the vehemence of the hissing might have led me to hear more than was actually said.

Regardless, I therefore have a bunch of reasonably clear video of a good chunk of the Get Jiro panel… and I am passing the San Diego hotel and SDCC pass savings onto you! So grab your laptop, hit the jump, sit back in a warm bath with your shower massager, and never tell me about it.

When I was growing up, my mom had a saying: “If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the problem.” She meant it in relation to voting. Her feeling was, if you didn’t like how things were, you couldn’t legitimately bitch about the direction the country was going if you hadn’t tried to make the effort to make your voice heard. Conservative or liberal didn’t matter so much as you at least tried to make your feelings known.

She had a point, I suppose. I’m not a particularly political person myself, though, so I tend to take more of the view that change starts with me. Do unto others and all that. Say “thank you” to the guy holding the door open for other patrons at Dunkin Donuts. Avoid calling my condo association to get my neighbors’ cars towed for parking in the common area, because I might need that spot in a pinch someday. Be cool to the pizza delivery dude. In short, as Wil Wheaton put it, “don’t be a dick.

In Get Jiro!, Anthony Bourdain proposes a future in which, lacking options for whatever reasons, the world has become food obsessed. To the “haves”, a hot restaurant reservation is more valuable than money. To the “have nots”, fresh food options have become scarce and Twizzlers are dealt like drugs. Society has become beholden to warring factions that control the distribution of food and the cops are staying right the hell out of it. Seems like a lot of dickery right out of the gate.

Sushi, smugness, and spoilers, after the jump!

Let me let you in on a dirty little secret of mine: when I was a child, I had no imaginary friends.

“Yes, and?” I hear you saying. Also hearing things like “Big deal.” Ok, stay with me.

As a child myself, I would see the idea of imaginary friends all the time in movies or tv shows for kids. Some darling little urchin would get so involved in a world of their own building that they’d be swept away into The Land Of Make Believe, some magical place set up by their own brain that felt so real as to be so. Calvin had his Hobbes. Big Bird had Mr. Snuffleupagus (until the Stranger Danger hysteria, anyway). The kids in The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe cartoon had their group hallucination…whatever that was. But me? No matter how hard I tried to make it so, every time I opened up my closet hoping to find a mystic realm, all I found was a pile of laundry. Oh, and some dry dog food a mouse had been hoarding from my dog’s food dish. The hard slap of reality, brought to me by Purina.

So, I turned to books for my escape.

Then, with a little assist from somebody else’s printed words, I could lose myself for days or weeks at a time in an alternate world, surrounded by characters as vivid and real as any I’d have to actually interact with in the real world. Even now, a good book, or even better, series of books, is still my escapist avenue of choice. The characters in the books didn’t contribute to my bad day and their world is not the one with the problems I’m trying to avoid. What’s not to like?

But, in the end, I know when to put the book down. Whatever I’m avoiding, needs to be dealt with. Bills paid; bosses appeased. Someone has to be there to put Rob to bed when he falls asleep on the couch watching old pro wrestling documentaries, preferably before he spills beer on the couch.

So, what does this have to do with The Unwritten #37, written by Mike Carey with layouts by Peter Gross?

A look into the crazy world of Twihards…and comic book spoilers…after the jump!

Back in 2000, Jamie Delano, wrote a nineteen issue series for Vertigo called Outlaw Nation with co-creator Goran Sudžuka. In 2006, Image and Desperado Publishing released a 456 page bound edition of the collected issues, printed in black and white. The series is inspired by the idea of “Johnsons”, not a cock euphemism here but, rather:

Derived from a 19th century slang term for hobos and petty thieves, “Johnsons” were characterised by Jack Black in his 1926 autobiography as a society of “yegs” – outlaws and small-time crooks – who were nonetheless honorable in their dealings with one another and always ready to help out those in trouble. Black’s concept of the Johnson Family was inspirational to William S. Burroughs, who developed his own inimitable version in The Place of Dead Roads . . . to Burroughs, a person is either a “Johnson” or a “shit”. – Delano, from the introduction of Outlaw Nation, Collected Edition

“Shits” are lawmakers, “busybodies who persecute those engaged in victimless crime”. The “Johnsons” would see that put to an end.

Delano takes this idea and creates a vast collection of characters in an extended Johnson Family, outlaws and anti-heroes carved from every conceivable American cultural icon from the past 100 years and then some – Old Time Western Law Man, Hippie Chick (Now Older And Wiser), Biker, Saloon Owner, Lost War Veteran and more. They’re all here and all seemingly related.

In a week in which Marvel continues to drag out Fear Itself: The Phantom Menance The Fearless, in which I finally was subjected to saw the Green Lantern movie, and, in which the newly rebooted DC Universe has decided that it’s already so bored with itself that it needs to begin crossovers among its books to try and keep its readers interested and buying them, it’s safe to say that this five year old graphic novel was far more interesting than anything else that was in my pull pile or other viewing this week.

More, with spoilers, after the jump.

Last night I got into an argument with a bottle of vodka and the vodka won. I woke up feeling pretty low, but you know who probably feels worse? Anybody who makes the mistake of palling around with John Constantine, that’s who. This is a fact that we are told goes back as far as Constantine’s childhood in John Constantine: Hellblazer Annual. “Suicide Bridge” takes Constantine back to his old stomping grounds in Liverpool. The mother of a long missing childhood friend is dying and his family would like him to work his mojo to determine what happened to her son, so she can die with some piece of mind. As is typical for Constantine, the search for answers never goes smoothly.

Spoilers after the jump!

EDITOR’S NOTE: Houston, we have a spoiler.

I have sat in front of this empty page for about a half an hour now, reading and rereading Spaceman #2 and trying to figure out how to describe it. I am finding it difficult. Normally this would be because I was shitfaced. In this case, it’s because there’s really nothing else like this comic currently out there… although in all fairness, I am a little buzzed right now.

Seriously: I can’t pigeonhole this book. It’s a crime story with an epic sci-fi element with pieces of cyberpunk dribbled in. It opens with a man holding a gun on a monkey-man and an Asian child in her underwear. It ends in a pirate attack. In between there’s an astronauts in trouble arc and the collapse of the world economy. There is also more than one gunfight, an evisceration, a drug overdose, and a man’s face torn apart by a spinning propeller. All of which sounds like it’s an enema bottle and a tube of astroglide away from being a high-budget German scheisse flick, but somehow it all hangs together.

When you say the words “comic book” to the average American, they will most likely think of stories having to do with capes and cowls. However, there is a rich tradition of comic books that are reality based, topical, even autobiographical. Marzi, written by Marzena Sowa with art by Sylvain Savoia, falls within that tradition. Marzi, published in North America by Vertigo, was originally published in Belgium. The stories chronicle growing up in communist Poland just as the Eastern Bloc is beginning to strike and demand its freedom. However, although those events are the backdrop to Sowa’s story, the book is really more about what it was like to be a little girl, as she explains to Cafe Babel.

“Sometimes readers find it surprising that besides strikes, usually associated with Jaruzelski and ‘Solidarity’, people also had a regular life,” the author explains. “I mean, going to school and to work, children playing in the courtyards, holidays. My comics won’t age. Even twenty years on you will find something new, something for yourself. We were all children, and we all had some wishes that never came true; I was always dreaming about getting Barbie from Pewex (communist-time stores which sold Western goods in exchange for Western currencies).”