by Edward Kelly

It’s an age-old question, which isn’t to say that it has been around for a very long time, but rather it is to say that it is more a question of our age, the era in which we live. The question, I should add, isn’t actually a question, it’s more a scenario and it goes a-little something like this:

You (yes, you, the reader, with the hair and the clothes, assuming you have both of those things) like a work of art. Could be a band, a movie, a book, whatever. You like it and therefore you tell your friends that you like it and they should listen to/watch/read this work so you can all appreciate it in a grand adventure of shared cultural experiences (not entirely unlike the plot of The Goonies).

[Lux Suicide in Heatwave]

Then the work of art catches on. You didn’t even see it coming, but all of a sudden there’s now more people liking the thing you like. And now they are talking about it and telling their friends and all of a sudden this thing that once “belonged” to you and your friends is now growing too big to control—this thing is going global, man, positively expansive.

And it all culminates in something you thought you wanted in the first place: everyone knows about it. Now it’s a genuine pop culture event and it doesn’t belong to you, but rather to the fans and you are just one face in a sea of squeeing appreciators.

So, you do what people do: you react and shun. And then, inevitably, you say one or both of the following stupid statements.

Statement the first: “I was into that before everyone else was into it, and now I’m not anymore.”

Statement the second: “Artist X sold out.”

[/LIST]
Comic book fans find themselves trying to reconcile these facts quite a bit these days. For example, take the recently released Scott Pilgrim movie.

Personally, I can’t claim any sort of fan-based claim to the Scott Pilgrim graphic novels. I started reading them about a year ago and, like most people, I love the crap out of them. I can’t help it—they’re wildly inventive, effortlessly charming, and refreshingly breezy and witty. They’re just good. I’d like to lay some sort of fan-claim, but I can’t because I only started buying them when I heard there was a movie coming out and I wanted to be In The Know and be familiar with the source material.

Or in the other words: I’m a huge poser.

But here’s the sad part, if you feel that you were a progenitor of the Scott Pilgrim fandom, then I have to break some sad bits of news: you were not there first and you’re pretty much a poser too.

You see comic book fans tend to be a pretty insular group. Maybe it’s a genetic thing, like we just don’t like people (although I would disagree with this) or maybe it’s a societal thing, like most of us spent so much time reading comics and being ridiculed for it that we eventually fulfilled the self-fulfilling prophecy and become islands unto ourselves.

This is a pretty big shame since comic books are a great art form and all art forms should be discussed and debated whenever possible. That’s why art is important—it’s not just pretty stuff that we can admire, it’s pretty (or ugly or exciting or sad or happy or insert any adjective from the gamut here) stuff that can tell us who we are, where we’re coming from, and why we care about this thing but not that thing over there.

So why do I say we’re all posers? Well, because we kind of are.

Unless you’re Young Neil, sitting on the crappy couch in the crappy apartment while sycophantically watching as Sex Bob-omb rehearses, then, yeah, you weren’t there first. And here’s another shocker: you didn’t want to be. You didn’t want to be because when art is just being birthed into the cold, bright world it usually sucks out loud.

But why do some fans (myself included) latch onto certain works and feel betrayed when said art breaks into the mainstream? There are probably a lot of theories and reasons why this is, but here’s my off-the-cuff, overblown and probably ill-informed postulation: the long and short of it is that you and me and everyone you know are terrified that we’re all going to die alone.

Oh yeah, this blog post just went there.

In this world, people need people (what up, Streisand) and there’s a constant need to make connections with others and art allows a shared shorthand language. It bridges gaps and crosses boundaries and allows you to quickly connect with people you otherwise may not have. I know that when I watch as something I felt a connection to explodes into the ether, I feel like I will somehow lose the relationships I made in the first place.

But the good news is: that’s a stupid, stupid worry.

Because, hopefully, you and your fellow posers will stick together.

Again, not entirely unlike The Goonies.

thescarykid

USA

May 2010

AUG 22, 2010 12:16 AM

Reality is over here. I left a marker so you can find it. I don't want to be here all day so I'm leaving, but good luck to you.

Cherry2000

Calgary, AB

July 2009

AUG 22, 2010 03:58 AM

SG_Blog said:
by Edward Kelly

So why do I say we’re all posers? Well, because we kind of are.

I know this article is tongue-in-cheek, but how about this: no one who genuinely likes something is a "poser?"

Ken8Bart

USA

January 2010

AUG 22, 2010 01:28 PM

Cherry2000 said:

SG_Blog said:
by Edward Kelly

So why do I say we’re all posers? Well, because we kind of are.

I know this article is tongue-in-cheek, but how about this: no one who genuinely likes something is a "poser?"

i second this

PointBlank

New York, NY

November 2004

AUG 22, 2010 01:59 PM

err...that's not what a "poser" is. A poser is someone who pretends to like something. That's the pose.

Also, the "lets set up a straw man (in this case some guy who doesn't exist who might criticize you coming to the Scott Pilgrim party late) and knock him down" is a tired article trope.

Odradek

Buffalo, NY

September 2007

AUG 23, 2010 10:05 AM

In regards to the "I was there first" and "that dude's a poser" matter: As a teenager, I, too, reiterated this kind of complaint. But let's consider the sociology of the teenager first, a creature whose personal identity is consistently changing and always at stake. Anxieties about authenticity abound. Music, film, comics, and pop culture in general serve as readily available if superficial means of self-identification and differentiation. Dress a certain way, adopt a certain aesthetic (in a way, sure, it's all a pose), consume whatever niche products you choose, and you've found yourself. Or, rather, you've found a "you" you like to cultivate, and god bless capitalism, because there are back catalogs of CDs and movies and comics for you to go to to flesh out the rest. Until, of course, something else comes along, which something will come along. This brings me to the more crucial point. All this carping and whining about authenticity, about posers, and all the scrabbling we do to maintain or shape ourselves, more often than not has a more concrete agenda: getting status, getting laid. Which are not small things, nor insignificant things. They are more or less terrific things.

On the "they sold out" schtick: I did this, too. We all do, and probably continue to do so in some form or another as some figure or band or way of identifying gets more and more commercialized, more swallowed up and regurgitated with a price tag attached. But then, complaining about sell outs is a bit like blaming the scorpion for stinging you. That is, it is about business folks. Money. And more often than not, it's not a choice. It's how the system works. It coerces people into making the decision to go big, sign the major label, sell off the company to the larger company, and start selling at Wal-Mart with all the curse words edited out. Talk of choice, that your-favorite-whatever-you-think-you-are-connected-to, "sold out" is just moralistic nonsense.

motorfirebox

Pittsburgh, PA

March 2004

AUG 23, 2010 12:41 PM

I think PointBlank is right. If you're more worried about what people think of your tastes than you are about finding things you actually like, you're a poser no matter when you got into whatever it is you're complaining has sold out. It's not about getting there first, it's about being there because you want to be there even if nobody else is there--or even if *gasp, horror* everyone else is there.

lil_tuffy

MODERATOR

San Francisco, CA

AUG 23, 2010 02:03 PM

Cooler than you'll ever be.

PeachSky

USA

June 2009

AUG 23, 2010 02:30 PM

motorfirebox said:
I think PointBlank is right. If you're more worried about what people think of your tastes than you are about finding things you actually like, you're a poser no matter when you got into whatever it is you're complaining has sold out. It's not about getting there first, it's about being there because you want to be there even if nobody else is there--or even if *gasp, horror* everyone else is there.

I agree.

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AUG 16, 2010 02:01 PM