Every year on his birthday (which is today), I write a little letter to @JoeQuesada, wishing him health and happiness for him and his family. We have not spoken in person in years.
In that note, every time, I thank him for asking me, out of nowhere, to pitch for Deadpool.
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Because I had a comics comedy column on CBR and I made him laugh. He used to read the column on the phone to friends. Garth Ennis didn't have email, so he called him long distance to read one about Garth TO Garth.
Even when I made fun of JOE HIMSELF, he would laugh about it.
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So every year, I say something to the effect of, "Thank you for taking a chance on me, and for opening the door that had made my life's dream come true over and over."
And he always says something humble and sweet, that I make it happen myself.
I have been thinking this forever but this morning it really hit me.
@stephenking is a badass.
Just a combustion engine. Love that guy.
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There have been a dozen times where the thing getting me through a tough time was simply having a Stephen King novel or anthology or movie adaptation to enjoy.
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When I was a kid, the very first novel I ever read (I was probably a little young for it) where the cast was all female and took all roles from villain to tragic hero and everywhere in-between was Carrie. To this DAY, I still haven't read many novels that can make that claim.
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I hear all the time, and have thought it myself, why does the world fear and hate mutants, but love the scary-looking oddballs in, say, the Fantastic Four?
Here is a thought about that.
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The Fantastic Four comes to save you.
You look out, and you see standing around you;
A woman who disappears
A man on fire
A rock-like golen creature
and the ultimate stretchy body horror.
OR.
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You look out and see
A great-looking guy with sunglasses
A beautiful woman with a cool fire bird effect
A goddess controlling a storm
A slightly hairy Canadian.
Why are citizens afraid of THIS four, and not the others?
When I was in second grade, our teacher read us, over the course of several days, an adaptation of Cool Hand Luke.
None of us knew anything about prisons, Southern culture, road gangs, prisoner abuse, or crime in general, really. We were seven years old, and enthralled.
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I remember, NO ONE missed school after the first day.
It starts with Luke, played by Paul Newman in the movie, getting drunk and busting up parking meters, for no good reason, so your introduction to him, in a child’s’ view, is bad, not revolutionary.
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Spoilers, but Luke ends up paying a heavy price for simply not being able to go along with what he is told to do, the falsehoods he is told are true. It is inevitable, even as kids we knew there would be no happy ending.
And we know it was wrong, the escalation. As kids.
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