I would be remiss in my comics fandom if I didn’t take a moment to plug the heck out of the twelfth annual Free Comic Book Day. And no one likes being remiss. No one.
Each year since 2002, American comic book shops participate in the hobby’s largest outreach effort, to alert the world that comic books are still being published, aren’t all terrible, and would be even better if more people bought them so that they could afford to make even more comics, or at least afford to make their current comics even better and prevent their writers and artists from being lured away by other, better-paying media. To that end, comic shops nationwide hand out free comics to any and all visitors — not all their comics, mind you, or else they all go bankrupt and Free Comic Book Day defeats itself. Rather, all the major comic book publishers, an impressive number of semi-major publishers, and a crowd of eager indie startups each publish their own FCBD specials for the occasion — usually all-new stories available nowhere else, except for a couple of Scrooge-like companies who serve lukewarm reprints, under the impression that newcomers will be none the wiser.
If my entire comic book collection were in mint condition, one of the more valuable modern-age collectibles would be Amazing Spider-Man #300. Not only was it part of the run that cemented Todd McFarlane as a bankable superstar, it also introduced Venom, who in my teenage eyes became one of Spidey’s scariest adversaries, up until Marvel later saturated the market with tons of Venom miniseries and crossovers. Though he wore out his welcome, I still hold a few fond memories of that era in the field.
2012 was my worst year for comic book enjoyment in the last fifteen years. I’ve collected them for thirty-four years, ever since the well-stocked spinner racks at Marsh Supermarket caught my eye at age six and opened new worlds of imagination and heroism. For the majority of my life they’ve been my primary hobby among all my hobbies. Once upon a time, friends could count on me to spout the occasional essay about a particular series, event, historical recollection, or rage-filled response to an aesthetic offense. When I launched Midlife Crisis Crossover last April, I thought the topic of comic books would inspire a lot more posts than they have so far.
Today’s subject: Grifter, one of the initial titles from DC Comics’ “New 52” relaunch of September 2011. For review purposes I picked up the most recent issue, #13, which was new in stores last Wednesday.
Today’s subject: Dredd, the movie industry’s second attempt to adapt the iconic British comics character to the silver screen. The first attempt had okay visual effects, Sylvester Stallone reprising Cobra in funnier clothes, and Rob Schneider. Incredibly, the new version has fared even worse at the American box office, possibly because of rampant fears of an uncredited Schneider cameo.
Older collectors can recall a time when fans of all ages could find comic books skillfully produced as entertainment and inspiration for any and all comers. In ye olden times of my own childhood, kids like me were more than welcome to read the adventures of the Marvel and DC mainstream universes, to participate in the stories that “mattered” in the lives of their favorite heroes. 
Midlife Crisis Crossover! 