Comics Do Matter, Bill Maher.

You just lack a framework for understanding why. Let me help.

With Uncle Stan interred, I begin the final phase of my life.

Comics were my first introduction into the idea of the fantastic. They were the first time I could see something that appeared in my imagination, regularly. Created by someone else. Created as a living, portable dream able to be slipped into my back pocket (gasp) and then unfolded and dived into one more time, absorbing every line, savoring every color, parsing each word for meaning beyond the offering on the page, the meta-narrative I had to grow to understand.

Comics introduced me to an approachable fantastic realm one which looked like my world, but had a hint of the amazing always going on just out of the corner of your eye. I could imagine Spider-Man swinging overhead, Superman flying a giant robot into space, the Avengers battling in the middle of midtown Manhattan.

Comics introduced me to space, into the vastness of the cosmos, investigating the Greater Magellanic Cloud to understand the Kree. Reading up on the Andromeda Galaxy to know more…