The Vocal Minority Has Something Else To Say
More fightin’ words spoken today vis a vis the new (comic) Wonder Woman’s armor. Words that were sort of, kind of, partially retracted later, the author of said blaming (as so many of them do) the enforced brevity of Twitter.
Honestly, at this point, if you don’t know how to use it, don’t. And if you have been, and you say you don’t, I don’t believe you.
I am, for the moment, going to put the entire costume controversy aside (shocking, I know). I am going to forget about male gaze vs female gaze, boob windows, and codpieces. I am even going to remove “artistic value” from the equation so that I might focus on a single phrase used by a particular gent to describe those of us who have been expressing concern, frustration, disgust, and even rage, regarding said female super-hero costumes.
That phrase is “vocal minority.”
The author of the Tweet complained, to paraphrase, that comic companies are caving/pandering/making obeisance to this “vocal minority.” Some of the characters (and thereby writers/artists) under fire: Ms. Marvel, Captain Marvel, and Wonder Woman, who have all had recent redesigns. Spider Woman (who went from ass in the air to a sweet motorcycle jacket). Bat Girl (a very disturbing variant cover pulled).
Choose whatever side you like. It’s your choice. If you want a Ms. Marvel you can ogle instead of one with a solid backstory, who embraces her culture, and who doesn’t care to flash her goods, that’s your right. You and I will never be friends and I probably think you’re a creep, but I will defend your right to hold that opinion.
If you have that right, however, I should have an equal right to say I think the new Ms. Marvel costume is perfect, that the new Captain Marvel suit makes a hell of a lot more sense for an ex-Air Force pilot, and that at least Wonder Woman has some semblance of protection. If you have the opportunity to be heard, I should have that opportunity as well and my opinions should be considered as valid as yours because I am a human with a brain and I think reasonable things. I can give a valid explanation as to why I hold a given opinion. I can even map the logical pathways, should you desire me to do so.
My opinion running counter to yours does not make me a member of a “vocal minority.” It makes me a knowledgable consumer of a product I would like to see developed a different way.
Your horse is high, gentlemen. Perhaps you might wish to dismount before the joust begins.
I pay the same price for my comics as the guy standing behind me in line does (or the next person in the Comixology queue). I have a BA, an MTS, and a BSN (aka: degrees in humanities and science). I went to fucking Harvard (though I don’t often drop the “H-bomb”). I am a writer. I am a reader. I do research on comics and comics history for this very blog and for the podcast.
Despite what you may think, having boobs does not make any of the above less valid.
Do not patronize me with your insecure “vocal minority” bullshit.
Do not kick sand in my face, put glue in my hair, or tell me I have cooties. Do not accuse me of being a “fake geek.” Do not harass me at a con. Do not refer to writers I admire as “Mrs. Name of Husband Who is Also in the Industry.”
You may not like what I have to say. That’s fine. I neither want, nor need, your approval. I wouldn’t mind a conversation, an honest debate. It can get heated or angry or even rage-y. Conflict and confluence can produce wondrous things.
That static world you’re living in, dude? The one where you’re the boss and what you say goes and because there are less of us, we have to roll over and take it?
Nah-uh. Dead, gone, and done.
Welcome to the 21st century, pal. Join the party, get the hell out, or get run over.