People in the online generation get so goddamn weird about Internet Content Creators:tm: as soon as those creators start making any kind of money off their work. This is especially true if the person being weird is one of those backers and therefore "entitled" to being horrible because they've paid $5. And it's completely indistinguishable from the way Boomers treat service workers.

Like any Online Millennial or Gen Z would balk at the idea of saying a single mean word to their waiter, but as soon as the creator they toss pennies at on patreon sets a toe out of line, (or not even out of line, maybe just not catering to this person's specifics wants, or not producing content as high-quality as it used to be) suddenly the Terminally Online are happy to unleash their unbridled fury, frothing opinions, and full-blown karen I'll take my business elsewhere and tell everyone to never shop here again-ness.

Except the difference is an entitled Boomer will march out of a store in a huff and be done with it, while the internet will try to snowball and dogpile until the creator is run off.

Like I've seen people get so weird about the McElroy content, and how "not-as-good" this that or the other thing is now, and they say this with such justified fury because the McElroys make money. This isn't "eh I've stopped listening as much since I don't like the direction." This is "how dare the McElroys not live up to my quality expectations when they're making money. don't they know they have to earn the right to have money with a good enough monkey-dance??"

Trust fund babies will ride out their McMansion lives never lifting a finger, but an internet content creator pulling in enough money to make a normal human living in a way that does not cater exactly to some segment of the internet's expectations is grounds for the most dehumanizing vitriol imaginable.

And no, before someone asks this is not apologism for people creating kickstarters and running off with the money. This is about how often a severely bad-faith take or plain cruelty is justified and propagated because the subject under storm is a "professional" on account of being compensated for their work.

I'd so much rather have a faceless corporation sign my paychecks for faceless work until I die than stake my livelihood on creating internet content I'm passionate about. I'd be happy to never receive a single dime from the internet. Because as soon as I do that, the public owns me, and the internet would be allowed to waggle a dollar above my head and say "dance monkey dance" without the slightest hint of irony. Or worse, they can say "remember that time we gave you a dollar?" "remember that time you received a dollar from someone?" as an absolute shut-down to any discussion of whether a content creator should have a right to do anything which does not cater directly to their fans' expectations.

Boomers' entitled harassment of service workers didn't go away with the new generation, it just got rebranded.

ADD Reviews Avengers: Infinity War

[Note: Contains spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War.] "We live inside a dream," Special Agent Dale Cooper once said on Twin Peaks. And so it has been for millions of people during the decade of Marvel Studios films that launched in 2008 with Jon Favreau's Iron Man.

I felt we had dodged a bullet back then, in the casting of talented but troubled actor Robert Downey Jr. as Tony Stark, after talk of Tom Cruise taking the role, and Marvel even publishing comic books with Stark drawn to resemble Cruise (a tactic which would actually work with Samuel L. Jackson, to the delight of just about everyone). Cruise was not right for the role. At that point I had been living with Tony Stark in my life for over thirty years, and I knew Downey would embody that part like no one else could. Thankfully Favreau knew it as well and convinced the studio to bet on Downey along with him.

But despite the unlimited potential in the characters owned by Marvel Comics, mostly borne out of the imagination and visual power of the late Jack Kirby, I wasn't expecting much from Iron Man and I doubt anyone in the movie industry was, either. Marvel's characters had been licensed time and time again to film and TV and even radio shows, and the one that gained the most traction was the TV series The Incredible Hulk, which took a few elements from Jack Kirby and Stan Lee's creation and then used them to retell The Fugitive. Similarly the less-well-regarded Spider-Man TV series used almost none of the essential aspects of that comic book's mythology, instead using the character's name and costume as a small part of a generic, episodic crime drama, not even bothering to steal the plot of a successful show, like The Incredible Hulk did.

The relative success of those shows hinged on a number of factors, among them the lack of alternatives -- you had three commercial TV networks plus PBS back then. (Which reminds me that Spider-Man also regularly appeared on The Electric Company, a show aimed at 8-10 year olds and which managed to present a more faithful wall-crawler than a primetime network series could, even allowing for the fact that on The Electric Company, Spider-Man never spoke a word.)

The 1980s and 1990s brought even more mediocre-to-terrible attempts to cash in on Marvel's characters. Dolph Lundgren as The Punisher. Reb Brown as Captain America. And a truly awful Fantastic Four movie made quickly and cheaply by cult film director Roger Corman in order to allow the rights holders to maintain their license. It resulted in a film so bad that it was never widely released and was only seen by most people through the wonders of bootleg VHS tapes sold at sketchy comicons. It should be noted that this Fantastic Four film is only marginally worse than the three later released by major studios, but with four films to their names, The Fantastic Four at this moment has more movies to its name than even The Avengers franchise, even if not a single one of them is worth watching.

Speaking of The Avengers, I went to see Avengers: Infinity War yesterday in the company of my wife Lora. I think we have seen most of the Marvel Studios films at the theater, although I have my doubts about the second Thor film. It's hard to keep track now that the Marvel Cinematic Universe (as it's called) is closing in on two-dozen full-length feature films, almost all of which are at least entertaining, and some of which have proven magical in both their mass appeal and their ability to generate revenue. Narratively, financially, and especially from the perspective of pre-2008, the continuing success of the Marvel movies is a dream that millions have been living within. It has changed the lives of many, from turning around the literal and metaphorical fortunes of actors like Downey, who no one thought would even live to see 2018 never mind be one of the most popular movie stars on the planet, and Chris Evans, whose depiction of Steve Rogers/Captain America has left far behind any memories of his participation in two of those lousy Fantastic Four movies. More interestingly this dream movie franchise has inspired and brought happiness to untold numbers of people, like that time Downey gave an Iron Man-like bionic arm to a seven-year-old boy. Or the millions of African-Americans and others who found in the recent Black Panther film an inspirational culture in which they could see themselves and their own history. These films haven't solved all the world's problems, but it's undeniable that they have brought joy and comfort and more in far greater proportion than one might have thought possible before this all began.

Which isn't to say they are perfect. I am not writing a love letter to Marvel Comics, Marvel Studios, or anyone else, really. Maybe Jack Kirby, because without him there would be none of this, but also Stan Lee, who wrote the words of so many of the comics these movies are based on. And Steve Ditko, whose imagination spawned the characters and worlds of Spider-Man and Dr. Strange. And so many other comics creators I never thought would get their due, and yet who are credited in the long crawls at the end of these films and who, I hope, are being fairly compensated for the translation of their work into motion picture form.

Like Jim Starlin, a writer/artist whose work blew me away in 1977. That summer I was 11 years old, and Starlin wrote and illustrated a two-part crossover featuring The Avengers, Spider-Man and The Thing (from the Fantastic Four) in a galaxy-spanning battle royale against Starlin's most noted creation, the supervillain Thanos. The sprawling epic was made possible by the earlier work of Lee, Kirby, Ditko and others, but it felt like something entirely new. Recently going back and reading that story, I realized how direct an adaptation of that story Avengers: Infinity War is, and that realization made me even more eager to see how the film would play out.

It turns out that Infinity War is every bit as mind-blowing as those 1977 funnybooks that inspired it were to my 11-year-old self, and for much the same reason. It's not just the epic scale of the story, or the stunning visuals, or the huge cast of very different characters being remixed in new and interesting ways. Both the comics and the movie share all those elements. No, it's the combination of all those things, plus the charm, skill, talent and determination of the actors, writers and directors, the grand vision for these films from the producers, and other factors too numerous and mysterious to be easily tallied.

So yes, I loved it. My wife loved it. It wasn't perfect in the way Citizen Kane or Synecdoche, New York are perfect, timeless films, but that's not what the MCU movies are for. They are a commercially-produced dream, made for profit inside an increasingly dysfunctional capitalist system, and perhaps another essay could be written on the dangers of allowing such dreams to make one forget the injustices and dangers of the real world, but that's not the essay I am writing today. Today I want to just reflect on the wonder of seeing this film finally come to fruition, the bringing together of franchises-within-the-franchise, and I want to state with wonder and delight that it works.

Not just for me, lover of Spider-Man and the others since 1972. It works for my wife, who didn't know who most of these characters were before she met me, and who now loves Groot unconditionally and with profound delight. It works for millions of other people, some of whom have only the faintest idea who Jack Kirby is, although almost everyone knows who Stan Lee is. Not to diminish Lee's contribution to this mythology -- without him it almost certainly would not have existed nor endured this long -- but it cannot be said enough that Kirby gets the majority of the credit. Others took the baton and ran with it once Kirby left Marvel, but Captain America, Black Panther, Thor and many other of the most endearing and exciting characters in these movies are as popular and effective as they are precisely because of the elements Kirby baked into them: Black Panther's dignity, Thor's arrogance and innate decency, and perhaps most importantly, Captain America's dedication to people over politics, to good over greed. Let there be no doubt, these are exactly the heroes we need at this moment in history, and it is perhaps not a coincidence that many of the actors who inhabit these characters have used their popularity to give voice to those less fortunate than themselves, and to use their voices to critique the current wave of fascism and authoritarianism that threaten to destroy our culture. These movies are entertainment, yes, and they have made fortunes for many of the people involved, but some of those people see the responsibility their new prominence and success has given them, and they seem to take it seriously. I'm grateful for that.

And I'm grateful for the joy in so many of these films, which reaches an almost unreal level at various moments in Infinity War. Not just seeing Tony Stark bicker with Stephen Strange, or Groot heroically assist Thor in a way only he could at exactly the right moment. Not just seeing Mark Ruffalo's sublime Bruce Banner argue with The Hulk, and therefore himself, to hilarious effect at exactly the wrong moment, only to later see him delight in having all of the power but none of the horror such power usually brings him. It's all of these things and at least a thousand more.

Like I said, it's not perfect. How could it be? In a story this wide-ranging, I was never going to get enough of Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow to make me happy. But there'll be a movie for that soon enough. I was never going to get everything I came to this for, but then no one is, when you get really granular and start picking it apart. But that's missing the big picture, and in the larger sense, it's important to note I wasn't bored or unhappy for one nanosecond of this film, as I was for every never-ending moment of the grotesque, doomed-to-fail Justice League movie. I was uneasy and scared at the beginning of Infinity War, as intended. I was amused and laughing when Peter Parker asked for a distraction on a schoolbus to hilarious effect. I was chilled when Banner announced "Thanos is coming." As I said on Facebook, "So many moments."

I have seen some concern about plot holes, but I see none. The most specific concern centers on why Dr. Strange makes the choice he does near the end, with seemingly catastrophic results for the entire universe. Did the people voicing these criticisms forget that there's another movie coming? Did they not hear Strange tell his fellow heroes that he had seen millions of possible outcomes in which they all lose, but one, and one alone, in which they succeed in defeating Thanos? To be fair, that moment is couched in dread, no doubt to conceal the fact that it is foreshadowing the ultimate outcome of the as-yet unnamed sequel, said to be the end of the book all the MCU movies to date represent in the minds of those overseeing the franchise, before the start of the next book. But I have no doubt that Dr. Strange's decision, as agonizing as it was to see the consequences of, was the one that will somehow allow all those we lost to be returned to us in some form. Well, maybe not all.

I doubt it's a coincidence that Tony Stark was the one to see the ultimate defeat of their efforts to stop Thanos, and to watch in helpless horror as Peter Parker and others died before his eyes. Since the first Avengers movie, Tony Stark's bravado has masked his increasing trauma as one cosmic threat after another homicidal robot of his own design has taken chunks out of his soul. My guess is that by the end of 2019's Avengers movie, we'll have many if not most of the toys back in the toybox and ready to be played with another day. I watched the Falcon die, but I'm sure he'll be back. And Spider-Man, and The Vision, and Nick Fury, and everyone we watch blow away in the breeze, to our horror and despair. I'm guessing the price of their return will be Tony Stark's sacrifice in the next film, likely Downey's exit from the franchise. And that would be suitable. Downey was perfect for the role of Tony Stark because in so many ways he really already was Tony Stark. Arrogant, talented, addicted. He was, and is, our gateway into this world, the reason we have been able to feel the emotions these films create in us so viscerally and so immediately. Reversing the damage Thanos does at the end of Infinity War will require a huge payment to balance the books. I will be surprised if that isn't represented by the final end of Tony Stark's journey in these movies.

After all, the great throughline of these movies has been revelation and change, as the universe these characters live in has, in a decade, come to be as expansive and intriguing as it was after many decades of hard work and imagination from Stan and Jack and all the other writers and artists who are responsible for the comic books that launched this dream we are all now living inside. Who has had more revealed to him, and who has changed more than Tony Stark? How fitting would it be for the next film to end with him making the sacrifice, finally, that he narrowly escaped making at the end of the first Avengers film?

I could be wrong, though. And I don't care if I am. I’m just theorizing. How can you not? It's fun to speculate where this gigantic story will go next. And who could have guessed, before this all began in 2008, that so many millions of filmgoers would be so thrilled by one movie after another, a series of increasingly entertaining and even diverse films that give us worlds of wonder and delight, with shocks, horrors, laughs and even love?

No, no one could have seen this coming in 2008. No one except Jack Kirby, who, if he were still with us today, might be heard to say, "I knew it all along." -- Alan David Doane