It was bound to happen. Something had to happen. Comics had been so good lately, and the horizon seemed pretty bright, what with all the amazing projects yet to come. But take a look back at history, and witness all of the times we’ve flown to close to the sun. Life sees your giddy smile, and it laughs and strikes with vigour - and sometimes, shit gets wrecked.

This, is what I’m assuming happened on Friday when the news about the cancellation of Victor Von Doom hit the internet.

It was intended to be a four issue mini series with Nick Spencer spinning words and Becky Cloonan rocking art. The Doom depicted was to be young, the story taking place before all of that bullshit the accursed Reed Richards put him through during college. There was going to be magic, and also as James said over twitter last week, it was going to feature Teenage Doctor Doom fighting a betentacled hell monster with a sword and a ray gun.

We would’ve loved to read a book like that.

But hey, we get it. Comics are just too good right now, and sometimes, we need to be reminded to keep our feet on the ground. Which sucks because if comics are about anything its that keeping your feet on the ground is complete bullshit. But I digress. The series evaporated before it could even begin, and we’re left with a hole in our hearts that might never be filled. However, that’s not going to stop it from shoveling other awesome comics into our brains to make the hurt go away.

And thus, we’ve arrived at something we’re calling Comics! The Blog vs. The Doom Machine (or) The Spencer/Cloonan Psychedelic Happy Hour - in which we recommend amazing works by the aforementioned sex picture enthusiasts, Nick Spencer and Becky Cloonan. They might not be about Teen Doom, but they’re pretty fantastic in their own right, and you should pretty much read them all.

DEMO (Vertigo)
by Brian Wood and Becky Cloonan

Let me tell you about my first indie love.

I was nearing the tail end of my exclusive love affair with Marvel. I had been a fan of theirs and only theirs for quite some time - a relationship that had been cultivated by my cousins, who told me that they would punch me if they ever saw a DC book in my hand. At this time in my life, my options, in terms of comic book purchasing, was very much limited to the two companies. I had just gotten my first car, and with it, an access to the local comic shop that was more frequent than 2-3 times a year. And so of course, I started pushing at the edges of what I knew to be good. I started looking online, searching for something, anything that could scratch different areas of my brain.

While it wasn’t the first indie series I dug my nails into, it certain was the first that got deep hooks into my brain. The concept and execution was exquisite. 12 stories, 12 issues, 12 genres, 12 styles - and in the midst of a medium just starting to write for the trade, it was bucking the trend by pledging a single story mindset. These were twelve separate entities, tied by banner and intent, and not by storyline. They would exist separately for as long as the printing costs would allow. A collection was not the end goal, rather a means to keep each story in print for a longer period of time, eventually, some day.

This was where I first discovered both Brian Wood and Becky Cloonan, telling personal stories about people who just happened to be touched by some extraordinary circumstances. With each issue, came a complete different story and with each different story, Becky Cloonan would offer a completely different style. If a story seemed to call for heavy black inks, she would ply it to the pages. Some spatter? Sure, why not. Ziptone effects, manga eyes, hyper realistic detail… whatever the story and genre called for, she would adapt to suit - and the stories were much stronger for it.

Because of the anthology style format, everyone that reads Demo comes out with different favourites. As a teenager who thought that the world lived and died at the whims of a particular girl, I was quite affected by a story called Mixtape, a posthumous love story lit with the idea that memories are mailable at best - and untrustworthy at the worst. It spoke to the person who wanted to believe the best whenever she looked my way, but should have remembered the reasons why we would never work. The story affected me because the emotion of it rang true - as do the emotions that run through all of the other stories in Demo, which takes a core of emotional, character driven stakes, and plies to stories involving horrors and wonders and time travel and whatever.

Every issue of Demo is collected in two easy-to-find volumes - the original twelve in volume one, and the six that came out last year from Vertigo in volume two. Pick up either - there’s bound to be several stories in each that you will have head-over heels in love with.

Next: EXISTENCE 2.0/3.0 by Nick Spencer