2001 Nights

(cross-posted from DKos)

It's not very often that you see a comic book that can be classified as Hard Science Fiction, but Yukinobu Hushino's 2001 Nights certainly qualifies. It was originally published in the mid-'80s in the manga magazine Monthly Super Action and then translated into English by Viz Comics as a series of graphic novels in 1996.

The title evokes the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey, which is an important source of inspiration for the series, combined with the Thousand and One Nights. Instead of following the adventures of a single protagonist, the series is a collection of tales, each one called a "Night", tracing the story of mankind's journey to the stars.

Hushino's artwork is rich and meticulously detailed. Unlike a lot of manga, which lavishes loving attention to buildings and mecha but has characters who are stylized and cartoony, Hushino has a naturalistic style. Although you won't mistake his artwork for Neal Adams or George Perez, neither will you see a lot of manga hair and anime eyes. He achieves a rare balance in comics: not only does he make the technology visually plausible, but he makes the characters believably human and not exaggerated superbeings.

The first story, "Night 1: Earthglow", illustrates a recurring theme of the series. It is set in the immediate future. Mideast tensions have brought the world to the brink of nuclear war and the pilots of a US Space Shuttle wonder if their secret mission will precipitate it. Their flight plan brings them to a Soviet Space Station and they learn that their secret cargo is the President, who is going to meet with the Soviet Premier in a place where they can see the earth without borders, as a single planet. This story offers both the hope that the promises of technology and of space can solve our problems, and the fear that the conflicts of the past will remain with us.

Both that hope and that fear echo through many of the stories. In "Night 11: Stranger's Footsteps", two nations vie to establish colonies on the same planet; In "Night 12: Symbiotic Planet", colonies established on a planet by rival nations learn a lesson in cooperation by the planet's ecosystem.

At the end of "Night Night 7: Lucifer Rising", Father Chavez, the priest accompanying a mission to a newly-discovered planet beyond the orbit of Pluto, prays:

To Man, who in the distant past lost Paradise and now prepares to journey of his own will away from even the glory of the sun... please grant mercy and forgiveness... that our descendants not spread into the universe still as sinful as we... Please, Lord...

The series is not an optimistic look at the future. Many of the space colonies fail; some spectacularly. By the end of the series, mankind has grown tired of the expansion and has begun to withdraw back to the Solar System. But humanity has also spawned a "New Generation," people who may be the next stage of evolution who will remain traveling the stars after their planet-bound fathers have returned to Earth.

Several of the stories follow a single family, the Robinsons, as succeeding generations travel farther and farther out into space. Early in the series, a colony ship is sent out carrying banks of sperm and ova that will be grown into colonists. A generation or two later, FTL travel has been developed and one of the descendants of the original donors puts his fortune into terraforming the planet that colony ship is bound for so that his cousins will have a hospitable place to land when it arrives. Other members of the Space Family Robinson play important parts in other stories and the "The Final Night: Children of Earth" brings many of the generational plot threads back together.

Most of the stories are fairly short, maybe a dozen pages or so; but a couple of them are more lengthy and deserve special comment. One is "Lucifer Rising." Mankind is still limited to the Solar System, although a couple of extra-solar missions have been launched; (one an unmanned probe called Discovery, described in Night 6, and which contains the most obvious 2001 references; the other the Robinson Family seeder ship, which we first encounter in "Night 4: Posterity"). A hitherto unknown planet is discovered outside the orbit of Pluto composed entirely of antimatter. The Vatican sends a priest on the mission to the planet, called Lucifer, in order to prove that it is indeed the "Devil's star" and that further space exploration is contrary to God's Will. But Father Sanchez, the Vatican's emissary, is a scientist as well as a priest. As he grapples with his conflicting missions, he also grapples with his own guilt over failing to save a crewman who died in a space accident. And in addition, someone is performing acts of sabotage on the ship. Hushino interweaves his story with asides about the formation of the Solar System, evolution, and excerpts from Paradise Lost.

The penultimate tale in the collection, "Night 18: Odyssey in Green", is another epic, taking up a volume and a half of the Viz collection. Mankind is starting to withdraw back to the Solar System. Most of the colonies have failed; habitable planets are few and far between. But one thing could revitalize man's exploring spirit: if they could find evidence of extraterrestrial intelligence. So far, humans have discovered life on other worlds, but no other people. Then a spacecraft passing near Betelgeuse encounters a rapidly-moving object being propelled from the planet by a laser drive; an enormous beam of energy coming from the planet's surface and pushing it. While investigating the planet, the ship is damaged by a second laser pulse, and the surviving crew are stranded on a jungle world trying to find the civilization which built the laser. What they find is nothing like they expect.

The final night brings the last of the roving Robinsons to the planet in the Tau Ceti system where the children of the original Robinson Project, sent from Earth long ago, have formed an idyllic colony; along with the New Generation, who have plans of their own. The meeting marks the end of the first wave of human exploration, but also the beginning of a new one. Even in leaving the Earth, mankind seems unable to shake the clay of past sins, past grudges, past mistakes off its feet. And yet hope remains, and the stars are there to beckon us on.

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress: Part 5: TANSTAAFL!

As last we saw, the Citizens of Free Luna have just beaten off Earth's punitive strike to put down their rebellion. Now the Loonies are striking back.

They're going to throw rocks.

"A maximum of instructive shrecklichkeit with minimum loss of life. None, if possible" -- was how Prof summed up doctrine for Operation Hard Rock and was way Mike and I carried it out. Idea was to hit earthworms so hard would convince them -- while hitting so gently as not to hurt. Sounds impossible, but wait.

Critics of Harry Truman's decision to bomb Hiroshima have argued that it would have been just as effective and less deadly so simply allow representatives to witness a test explosion of the Atom Bomb. I'm sure Heinlein had heard this argument, and I suspect he probably disagreed with it. Yet here he has the Loonies to do something similar: demonstrating their capability to deploy a Weapon of Mass Destruction without actually killing any more people than they have to.

Perhaps this analogy is unfair. A closer analogy would actually be Pearl Harbor. The original Japanese plan was to strike the U.S. Navy so hard and so decisively that America would lose the will to fight. It didn't work.

Prof's concern about inflicting unnecessary casualties is precisely because he does not want to galvanize the people of Earth into anger and retaliation. Luna cannot survive a fight to the death with Earth as its enemy; so they have to leave Terra room for the possibility of becoming friends.

Luna has no spaceships of it's own, and no weapons, other than a few laser drills modified into defensive artillery. But it does have one important advantage: it's position on top of Earth's gravity well. This is the ultimate high ground; and they are going to take the old chestnut of dropping a penny from the top of the Empire State Building and multiply it by a factor of millions. (Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle used a similar idea in their novel Footfall).

Using Mike's powerful radar telescopes, they have identified unidentified target locations on every continent, in every major nation on Earth. For the past two months they have been preparing canisters similar to the ones formerly used to ship grain to Earth, filled with rock that they will fire at these targets. Hitting the targets should be no problem; it's just a matter of ballistics, and aiming Luna's catapult was the first job for which Mike had been programmed.

They flood the airwaves with warnings to stay away from the target sites, mixed with propaganda. They want everyone on Earth to know what's coming.

Manuel is well into implementing Operation Hard Rock when he finally makes contact with Prof. Communication with the city of Hong Kong Luna was disrupted during the attack and Mannie had feared Prof had been killed. But he also learns that Ludmilla, the youngest wife in his family was dead, shot by one of the invading soldiers. Manuel returns to be with his family in mourning. Most Loonies "conserve" their dead, recycling the body's components into the Lunar ecosystem. Little 'Milla's atoms will now be mingled with those of Black Jack Davis and the rest of the family members now gone in the Davis family greenhouse, providing nutrients for the roses.

Back to the attack. The initial barrage of rocks will take three days to reach Earth. So far, None of the nations of Earth have come to terms. So as not to distract Mike from the delicate task of monitoring and correcting the trajectories of the missiles, Manuel suits up and goes on the Lunar surface to watch. The Sun is mostly behind the Earth and the North American continent lies in night as Mike counts down.

And suddenly that grid burst out in diamond pinpoints!

We hit them so hard you could see it, by bare eyeball hookup; didn't need binox. Chin dropped and I said "Bojemoi!" softly and reverently. Twelve very bright, very sharp, very white lights in perfect rectangular array. They swelled, grew dimmer, dropped off towards red, taking what seemed a long, long time. Were other new lights but that perfect grid so fascinated me I hardly noticed.

Mike is delighted.

"A bull's-eye. No interception. All my shots are bull's-eyes, Man; I told you they would be -- and this is fun. I'd like to do it every day. It's a word I never had a referent for before."

"What word, Mike?"

"Orgasm. That's when they all light up. Now I know."

This sobers Mannie and he cautions Mike not to get to like it too much. "If it goes our way, we won't do it a second time." Mike has other sobering news: one of Earth's Peace Cruisers has just left Earth orbit and is on it's way and will arrive in a day or two.

Manuel returns to the sub-basement of the Complex where the bulk of Mike's mainframe resides but is soon called up to the Administrative Offices for an emergency Cabinet meeting. It seems that initial reports from Earth are claiming that Luna used atomic weapons and that thousands or more are dead. One of the Cabinet members, a self-important representative from Novylen named Wright who claims to speak for the "intelligentsia", is howling that the rock strikes have made Luna guilty of crimes against humanity.

The reason for the casualties is that it seems thousands of sight-seers deliberately went to the targets to watch. As for the claim of atomic weapons, Prof is puzzled. Luna has no nukes.

I turned to Wright. "Did your brainy friends tell you what happens when you release a few billion calories in a split second all at one spot? What temperature? How much radiance?"

"Then you admit that you did use atomic weapons!"

"Oh, Bog!" Head was aching. "Said nothing of sort. Hit anything hard enough, strike sparks. Elementary physics, known to everybody but intelligentsia. We just struck damnedest big sparks ever made by human agency is all."

The Cabinet accepts his explanation, (Except for Gospodin Wright, who is a putz), but Manuel isn't finished. He's tired, hasn't slept in days and has had enough. Pointing at Wright he says: "Either that yammerhead goes... or I go. ...you don't seem to understand issue. You let this yammerhead climb on my back -- and didn't even try to stop him! So either fire him, or fire me."

It's an ugly scene. One by one, the other members of the War Cabinet side with Manuel. "Manuel, it works both ways," Prof says sadly. "What you are doing is forcing me to resign. Goodnight, comrades. Or rather, 'Good morning.' I'm going to get some badly needed rest."

Everybody needs rest by this time. After a good nine hours of sleep, they reconvene. Prof is there. Nobody mentions what happened the previous night. Nobody mentions Gospodin Wright. In fact, Manuel observes that he never saw Wright again.

But there are still matters to discuss. Stu has been secretly negotiating with Doctor Chan, the Chinese representative Manuel met on his trip to Earth. China might recognize Luna, but wants them to cancel the bombings on Chinese soil first. The Cabinet discusses the matter intently and decides to stick with their plan. More immediately, Luna has to prepare for the upcoming attack, now less than 24 hours away. The most vulnerable domes must be evacuated; but Prof insists that all evacuation must be voluntary; he refuses to coerce people out of their homes.

They expect the Earth cruisers to bomb their catapult; this is why they built the second one. Since there is a danger that "David's Little Sling" might get cut off from the rest of Luna, they have already transported an auxiliary computer to the site to handle launches from it. The auxiliary is a mainframe formerly used by the major bank in Hong Kong Luna. Mike affectionately refers to it as "my idiot son." It is not and will never be self-aware as Mike is, but it's smart enough to run the necessary ballistics programs. Mike asks Manuel to go out to the site and ride herd on the auxiliary computer in case it needs help. On all levels, Prof and the others are executing a radical decentralization of vital systems and government so that if any part of the Luna Colony is destroyed, the rest can carry on.

The bombing of Earth continues, still limited to uninhabited targets, with one big exception: the North American Space Defense Command in Cheyenne Mountain in Colorado. It's a military target, and fair game. It had taken a hit during a limited nuclear engagement of the previous century (called "The Wet Firecracker War") and so the mountain itself is empty of life. Mike keeps hammering the mountain with rocks until he apologetically tells Manuel that the mountain isn't there anymore. Manuel would also like to drop one on the Federated Nation's Administrative Headquarters in Agra, but because of its close proximity to the Taj Mahal, he knows Prof would never forgive him if he did.

But the Loonies only have so many rocks prepped to shoot out of the catapult; and the next attack from Earth is on it's way. The defensive laser gunners are able to bring one down by blinding its sensors; but several receive fatal or near-fatal radiation burns when the cruiser's H-missiles detonate. A second cruiser manages to damage the main catapult before it too is brought down. Earth is now announcing that the threat from Luna is ended. It's not; Little David's Sling is still operational; but with at least two more cruisers orbiting Luna they have to be careful when to use it, lest the cruisers get a fix on the catapult's radar. The war now becomes a game of Chicken as Mannie hopes that Earth backs down before they run out of rocks to throw.

Then the announcement comes: Great China denounces the actions of the F.N. and announces that it will recognize Free Luna and is ready to negotiate. India quickly follows suit, followed by Egypt and others. Before long the F.N. itself accepts armistice and withdraws the orbiting warships. The revolution is over!

Manuel returns to L-City in triumph and there Prof delivers a victory speech. It occurs to Mannie that the destruction of the main catapult very well might have been part of Prof's plan all along: now it won't be possible to ship Luna's resources to Earth at all; at least for a long time. Prof joyously announces that Great China has committed to building an Earth-based catapult to permit two-way shipping between Luna and Earth. "But that lies in the future. Today -- Oh, happy day! At last the world acknowledges Luna's sovereignty. Free! You have won your freedom --"

And then... right there on the podium, he dies.

It is quite a while before Manuel has the chance to call up Mike; and when he does he learns that all phone service to the Complex is out; the Complex was a major target for the last round of orbital missile bombardment. He goes down in person to talk to Mike... and gets no answer.

He works just fine ... as a computer. But won't talk. Or can't.

Wyoh tried to coax him. Then she stopped. Eventually I stopped.

Don't know how it happened. Many outlying pieces of him got chopped off in last bombing -- was meant -- I'm sure, to kill our ballistic computer. Did he fall below that "critical number" it takes to sustain self-awareness? (If is such; was never more than hypothesis.) Or did decentralizing that was done before the bombing "kill" him?

I don't know. If was just matter of critical number, well, he's long been repaired; he must be back up to it. Why doesn't he wake up?

Can a machine be so frightened and hurt that it will go into catatonia and refuse to respond? While ego crouches inside, aware but never willing to risk it? No, can't be that; Mike was unafraid -- as gaily unafraid as Prof.

Now years have passed and Mike is still silent. Manuel knows that Mike is as dead as Prof -- but how dead is Prof? The yammerheads wound up more competent than Prof expected and are turning Luna into a law-and-tax-ridden government just like the ones on Earth, despite Prof's best intentions. It turns out that Heinlein's Libertarian Utopia was possible only under the iron dictatorship of the Warden; once the Loonies could govern themselves, as Prof feared, they began forging new chains of their own.

The novel ends much as Huckleberry Finn does, with Manuel considering "lighting out for the Territories" to find a less-civilized place to live.

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress: Part 4: Earth Strikes Back

As last we saw, Manuel O'Kelly Davis (computer repairman and reluctant rebel), and Professor Bernando de la Paz (amateur revolutionary and rational anarchist), were sneaking onboard a rocket to get them back to Luna after their attempt to bring their case to the people of Earth. Both men are disappointed; Manuel because the Federated Nations refused to recognize their independence; Prof because they were in the city of Agra twice during their trip and he never got a chance to see the Taj Mahal.

But Prof does not see their trip as a failure. He never expected recognition from Earth; in fact his greatest fear was that the FN might offer a compromise that would satisfy most Loonies but which would neither grant full independence, nor (most importantly) solve the problem of Luna shipping its resources to Earth.

(Here's another, more subtle, parallel with the American Revolution. Although the American Patriots talked a lot about "No Taxation Without Representation", their leaders didn't really want seats in Parliament, where they would always be out-voted by the majority).

Prof apologizes for not explaining to Mannie sooner; the true purpose of the trip, he reveals, was to be divisive; to create a diversity of opinions on Earth. They didn't have to convince a majority that Luna deserved independence, but if they could sow enough doubt, convince enough people that Luna had just grievances, convince enough people that war with the Lunar colony was more costly than it was worth, convince enough nations that they could profit more from dealing with an Independent Luna than by backing the FN; then they might stay the FN's hand, limit their actions, and create an environment where the nations of Earth might be persuaded to back down.

Another parallel: General Gates, who commanded the British forces during much of the American Revolutionary War, was a member of the Whig party, which actually opposed the War. Gates was by no means sympathetic to American Independence, but he disliked warring on those he considered fellow British Citizens. Early on, he had numerous opportunities to crush the rebellion which he let pass because he felt that too-bloody action would eradicate any hope of a more peaceful resolution.

Mannie and Prof are welcomed back on Luna as conquering heroes and Prof makes a stirring speech; "...one short on logic, loaded with ringing phrases. "Love" was in it, and 'home' and "Luna" and "comrades and neighbors" and even "shoulder to shoulder" an all sounded good." During the American Revolution, John Adams guestimated that a third of the colonies wanted independence, a third was indifferent and a third were actively against it. Prof realizes that a sizable group on Luna will be opposed to independence too, particularly the farmers who will take a big economic hit when grain shipments to Earth are halted. Another purpose for the trip to Earth was to help solidify support on Luna.

Once they can extract themselves from the reception, Prof and Mannie, along with Stu, meet with Wyoh to discuss things with "Adam Selene." Stu still doesn't know about "Adam's" true identity, and so they are still going through the charade of the Chairman who teleconferences but doesn't appear in person.

While Mannie and Prof were gone, some changes have been made. The Ad-Hoc Congress Prof set up to keep the yammerheads busy has actually called for and held elections. This distresses Mannie, but Prof assures him that all will be well.

"In each age it is necessary to adapt to the popular mythology. At one time kings were anointed by Deity, so the problem was to see to it that Deity anointed the right candidate. In this age the myth is 'the will of the people' ... but the problem changes only superficially.

Prof and "Adam" have already anticipated the election and set things up so that the candidates they favored would have an advantage over other candidates in terms of a head start on petitions and the tacit endorsement of "Adam Selene" himself, (officially non-partisan, of course, but...). The polling was held at banks and the votes were tabulated by computer.

Suddenly a light came on in my skull and I decided to question Wyoh privately. No, not Wyoh -- Mike. Get past his "Adam Selene" dignity and hammer truth out of his neuristors. Recalled a cheque ten million dollars too large and wondered how many had voted for me? Seven thousand? Seven hundred? Or just family and friends?

...

If was one thing all people took for granted, was conviction that if you feed honest figures into a computer, honest figures come out. Never doubted it myself till I met a computer with a sense of humor.

In last week's reading, Prof commented that Mike might be their worst enemy because of the way all communications goes through him and can be controlled through him. Mike's control of elections is pretty darn scary too.

Although public support on Luna for the Revolution is currently high, it could fade quickly; especially once economic hardships begin to be felt. The conflict between Luna and Earth must be turned to open war as quickly as possible. But Prof is adamant that they must provoke Earth into striking the first blow; "the classic 'Pearl Harbor' maneuver of game theory, a great advantage in Weltpolitick." The danger of this is that the first blow may be the last; as Mannie observed earlier, all it would take to wipe out the Lunar colony would be one ship and six H-bombs.

They launch a new propaganda offensive: "In essence it called for us to behave as nastily as possible while strengthening impression that we would be awfully easy to spank." In the meantime, they prepare as best they can for the inevitable attack; staging pressure-suit drills, forming defense militia groups, reconfiguring the large industrial lasers used in ice mining as anti-spaceship weapons.

Then, an unexpected crisis emerges. While Prof is busy with war plans, the newly-elected Congress convenes a Constitutional Convention to formally establish a government. Anarchist that he is, Prof would prefer no government at all; but being a Rational Anarchist, he does what he can to cast doubt on the whole proceeding.

"Comrade Members, like fire and fusion, government is a dangerous servant and a terrible master. You now have freedom -- if you can keep it. But do remember that you can lose this freedom more quickly to yourselves than to any other tyrant."

He goes on to pick at some provisions of the draft proposals and offer alternatives.

"[Congressional districts determined by population] is the traditional way; therefore it should be suspect, considered guilty until proven innocent. Perhaps you think this is the only way. May I suggest others? ... Suppose instead of election a man were qualified for office by petition signed by four thousand citizens. He would then represent those four thousand affirmatively, with no disgruntled minority, for what would have been a minority in a territorial constituency would be free to start other petitions or join in then. All would then be represented by men of their choice."

"But in writing your constitution let me invite attention to the wonderful virtues of the negative! Accentuate the negative! Let your document be studded with things the government is forever forbidden to do.... Comrades, if you were to spend five years in a study of history while thinking of more and more things that your government should promise never to do and then let your constitution be nothing but those negatives, would not fear the outcome."

Which, if you think about it, is pretty much the whole purpose of the Bill of Rights of our own Constitution.

Of course, true to Heinlein's libertarian credo, Prof finishes his advice with a strong exhortation against Involuntary Taxation.

"Comrades, I beg you -- do not resort to compulsory taxation. There is no worse tyranny than to force a man to pay for what he does not want merely because you think it would be good for him."

Afterwards, Manuel calls him out on this. "...about taxation aren't you talking one thing and doing another? Who do you think is going to pay for all this spending we're doing?"

Prof is forced to admit: "You know how we are doing it. We're stealing it. I'm neither proud of it nor ashamed; it's the means we have. "

Mannie is upset about this hypocrisy on Prof's part. Prof neither admits to nor denies the charge; but he reminds Mannie of Mike's projection of food riots in six years and cannibalism in eight.

Meanwhile, Earth has not been idle. Terra has sent a fleet of ships to Luna to pacify and retake the colony. It's using a long orbit so as to approach the Moon on it's far side where the radar used to track incoming ships is blind; a trip which takes two months instead of the couple days of a normal Earth-to-Luna trip, but one which catches the Loonies off-guard.

In the two months the Loonies have been waiting for the hammer to fall, preparedness has become lax. In the early days of the embargo, everyone kept their P-suit handy, carrying their helmets under their arms; but this proved awkward and inconvenient. When the taverns started putting up signs saying NO P-SUITS INSIDE, people started leaving their pressure suits at home or in work lockers.

Then comes the attack.

The Terran ships bomb key transportation links between the domed Lunar cities; then send troops on the ground to enter the airlocks and take the cities.

Was a mob, not a battle. Or maybe a battle is always that way, confusion and noise and nobody really knowing what's going on. In widest part of Causeway, opposite Bon Marché where Grand Ramp slopes northward down from level three, were several hundred Loonies, men and women, and children who should have been at home. Less than half were in p-suits and only a few seemed to have weapons -- and pouring down the ramp were soldiers, all armed.

Six H-bombs would have done it; but Terra wanted to re-take the domes, not destroy them; they wanted to subdue the populace, not exterminate it. That meant they had to put boots on the ground; and the best-trained, best-armed soldiers Earth had to offer found themselves walking into a hornet's nest.

Most Loonies never laid eyes on a live invader but wherever troopers broke in, Loonies rushed in like white corpuscles -- and fought. Nobody told them. Our feeble organization broke down under surprised. But we Loonies fought berserk and invaders died. No trooper got farther down than level six in any warren.

In the middle of the chaos, Mannie calls "Adam Selene" trying to co-ordinate what he can in the fighting and gets a message that Adam was in one of the domes which lost pressure in the initial attack and is presumed dead. Mannie quickly switches to a private line and asks Mike what's going on. "Adam Selene had to go someday," Mike explains. "He's served his purpose." Having Adam "die" heroically in the invasion will save them from having to continue the charade that he exists. Then follows a poignant exchange between Manuel and Mike:

"Personally, I always preferred your 'Mike' personality anyhow."

"I know you do, Ma my first and best friend, and so do I. It's my real one; 'Adam' was a phony... Man, when this is over, are you going to have time to take up with me that research into humor again?"

"I'll take time, Mike; that's a promise."

"Thanks, Man. These days you and Wyoh never have time to visit ... and Professor wants to talk about things that aren't much fun. I'll be glad when this war is over."

The fighting is all but over in the warrens. The invaders have been decisively beaten. Now it's time to execute Operation Hard Rock.

"Do it, Mike, throw rocks at 'em! Damn it, big rocks! Hit 'em hard!"

NEXT: Operation Hard Rock; Mannie vs. the Yammerhead; and the Price of Liberty. TANSTAAFL!

The Moon is a Harsh Mistress: Part 3 Visit to Earth

As last we saw, Professor Bernando de la Paz, elderly subversive and amateur revolutionary; Wyoh Knott, the Lovely Lady of the Left; and Manuel O'Kelly, computer repairman and mostly innocent bystander; have succeeded in overthrowing the Warden of the Lunar Penal Colony, with the help of Mannie's best friend, the Authority's super-computer, Mike, who just happens to be sentient and have a sense of humor.

Now the tough part begins...

My dinkum word, preparing a revolution isn't as much huhu as having won it. Here we were, in control too soon, nothing ready and a thousand things to do. Authority in Luna was gone -- but Lunar Authority Earthside and Federated Nations behind it were very much alive. Had they landed one troopship, orbited one cruiser, anytime next week or two, could have taken Luna back cheap. We were a mob.

To buy themselves more time, the Revolutionaries enact a strict communications embargo, with Mike sending false messages to Earth to preserve the illusion of normality. The Terrans currently on Luna -- for the most part scientists working short-term at one of the observatories and research installations -- are prohibited from calling home.

The Warden survived the coup; although cutting off the oxygen to his living quarters left him in a vegetative state. The rapists whose assault on a Looney woman triggered the uprising are stripped naked, bound, and handed over to women of the Complex. "Makes me sick to think what happened next but don't suppose they lived through as long an ordeal as Marie Lyons [their victim] endured."

The question of what to do about the Warden's network of informants is a tricky one. Wyoh doesn't quite have the stomach to have them all executed, but Prof disagrees. "A man who finks on his friends once will do it again and we have a long period ahead in which a fink can be dangerous. They must go. And publicly, to cause others to be thoughtful." In an earlier argument on Capital Punishment, Prof claimed that all moral responsibility devolved on the individual and that if a criminal needed to be executed, he would do so himself. When challenged on this point now, he admits that he will bear the moral responsibility for the decision, but the actual sentence will be carried out by others. He simply has Adam Selene publicly announce the names of these informants and their addresses. And lets nature take its course.

Isn't this a little bit disingenuous? Hell, yes. But remember, Prof calls himself a "rational" anarchist, meaning he sticks by his principles... except when it's expedient for him not to. Prof justifies using the mob as an arm of public execution by saying it will send a sharper message to those who might be tempted to betray Luna in the future. And it probably will.

But now another problem comes up, one which unfortunately reminds the reader that the book was written nearly a half century ago. So far, "Adam Selene", the Chairman of the Revolution, has spoken to people over the phone, but never in person. Now that the need for secrecy is over, people are going to want to meet their leader. Mike claims that he can create a convincing video image of his alter ego. Although Mannie is at first skeptical, Mike proves that he can do it. Mannie's objections seem a little silly today, when computer generated images are a part of practically everything we see in movies and TV, but in the 1960s the idea was outrageous enough that Heinlein felt a need to hang a lampshade on it to get his readers to accept it.

So Adam Selene addresses all of Luna in a televised speech in which he urges calm, forbearance and co-operation. He urges people who were working for the Authority providing essential services to stay on the job and promises they will be paid. Ice will continue to be bought and grain shipments to Earth will continue for the time being. He begs the citizens of Terra caught up in the uprising to be patient. And he tells the citizens of Luna that he is going to be busy working to turn over leadership to a government of Luna's own choosing. "Expect me to be as hard to see as Simon Jester!"

In order to facilitate this last point, Prof has set up the "Ad-Hoc Congress for Organization of Free Luna" to which he has invited all the self-professed political experts and armchair Hamiltons who have come out of the woodwork now that the bloodshed is over. Mannie attends a few of their sessions and is dismayed.

With me breaking heart trying to round up heavy drills and men who could treat them as guns these idlers had spent an entire afternoon discussing immigration. Some wanted to stop it entirely. Some wanted to tax it, high enough to finance government (when ninety-nine out of a hundred Loonies had to be dragged to The Rock!); some wanted to make it selective by "ethnic rations," (Wondered how they would count me?) Some wanted to limit it to females until we were 50-50. That had produced a Scandinavian shout: "Ja, cobber! Tell 'em send us hoors! Tousands and tousands of hoors! I marry 'em, I betcha!"

Was most sensible remark all afternoon.

Prof reassures him. "My dear Manuel, I was simply putting all my nuts in one basket. I know those nuts. I've listened to them for years." He has engineered the group to ensure that they will quarrel amongst each other without actually accomplishing anything. The purpose of the congress is to keep these idiots busy; but it does have one important role to perform. They need the Congress to ratify something.

"One man will write it -- a dead man -- and late at night when they are very tired, they'll pass it by acclamation.... The dead man is Thomas Jefferson -- first of the rational anarchists, my boy, and one who once almost managed to slip over his non-system through the most beautiful rhetoric ever written. But they caught him at it, which I hope to avoid."

Prof gives them the Declaration of Independence.

He presents it almost word-for-word with only the changes necessary to update it for their situation and rams it through the Congress using expert parliamentary ju-jitsu learned from a lifetime of dealing with committees. He even manages to have it signed on July 4, 2176, a coincidence that strains the Willing Suspension of Disbelief almost past SOP tolerances, but the moment is presented so beautifully that I can forgive Heinlein.

Having officially declared Independence, another piece of business must be dealt with. The Loonies need to send someone to Earth to officially present their Declaration to the Federated Nation and make their case before the People of Earth. Prof foresaw this would be necessary from the beginning, and he, Mannie and Wyoh have all been training, wearing weights under their clothing, to prepare. Prof is the logical spokesman for the group, but he is an old man and might not survive the trip. Mannie has been to Earth before, when he was studying to be a computerman, and is the logical choice to accompany Prof. Mannie isn't crazy about this idea, but when Prof reminds him that if he doesn't go, Wyoh is the only other possible candidate, Mannie agrees.

Since the Loonies have no spaceships of their own, and no spaceships have arrived since the Revolution, they plan to send Prof and Mannie in a specially-designed compartment in one of the grain shipments sent by Luna's "catapult". The accommodations are beyond spartan -- the bare minimum necessary to keep them alive. Mannie does not expect either he or Prof to survive.

The night before the trip to Earth, Mimi Mum calls a Family Meeting. Mannie has been so worried about the trip, he is completely surprised by the reason. Wyoh is opting in to the family and Mimi has assembled the whole clan to vote on the matter. Here we get a glimpse of the Line Marriage at work with a combination of tradition, ritual and informal democracy. Whatever you might think of the Line Marriage in practice, this scene is a warm and moving one. (One writer describes the Davis family as like "the Waltons, squared").

Wyoh is welcomed into the family. According to tradition, the new bride spends her first night with the Senior Husband; but Grandpaw Davis is getting on in years. With the knowledge and consent of both Mimi and Greg (the next husband in seniority), Wyoh comes to Mannie's room once Grandpaw falls asleep to spend the night with him; by implication, the first night they spend together.

The trip to earth in the grain canister is every bit as nightmarish as Mannie anticipates. The only good thing to be said about it is that he spends most of the voyage in drugged unconsciousness so that his pressure suit's oxygen supply will last him the two-days they'll spend in transit. He wakes up shortly before the canister enters Earth's atmosphere and has a devil of a time unfastening his safety harness because someone removed his prosthetic arm before packing him into his suit. He can't tell through Prof's suit whether Prof is alive or dead. He endures the hammer jolts of acceleration and deceleration as the canister goes through atmospheric entry, splashing down in the Indian Ocean; then the completely unfamiliar experience of waves as it bobs on the surface of the ocean.

He wakes up in a hospital. Stu is there, and cheerfully tells him everything went according to plan. Prof is alive and well and as chipper as ever. Mannie is boggled to learn that Prof wanted to come to earth by this risky means rather than by a conventional spaceship. Not only was the stunt great publicity, it also got them on Terra before the Federated Nations could figure out what to do about them. If they had waited for a spaceship, the FN would have arrested them before they set foot on Earth.

Stu takes Prof and Mannie to Agra, the headquarters of the Federated Nations, to present their credentials as Official Ambassadors of Free Luna. Prof hopes to address the FN's General Assembly publicly, but they best they'll permit is a private meeting with an "Investigating Committee." Prof, speaking from a hospital bed, as he is too frail to sit up in Earth's greater gravity, eloquently requests that Luna be recognized as a sovereign state. The Committee insists that Luna continue to accept new prisoners, which Prof is willing to do -- with the understanding that as soon as they set foot on lunar soil the prisoners become free citizens of Luna. The debate becomes heated and Prof, in his excitement, half-rises from his bed and then collapses. (Real or fake? With Prof it's probably mostly political theater). A second meeting goes no better, although Mannie is able to smuggle recordings of the proceedings out by means of the same mini-recorder he used in Stilyagi Hall, hidden in his prosthetic arm.

But Prof hasn't pinned his hopes entirely on persuading bureaucrats and politicians in the FN. He and Mannie go on a full media blitz to take the Loonies case to the public. Much of the media is hostile: several New York newspapers regard the Loonies as unruly children deserving a spanking and the newspapers in India, where rice imports from Luna is a major source of food, are even more hostile. Prof's main talking points are that Luna doesn't want war; that friendship and co-operation between Luna and Terra will be beneficial to both worlds; but that if Earth is determined to insist on war, the Citizens of Luna will fight for their freedom.

"Do you gentlemen remember the Pathfinder? How she came plunging in, out of control?"

They remembered. Nobody forgets greatest disaster of early days of space flight when unlucky Pathfinder hit a Belgian village.

"We have not ships," I went on, "but would be possible to throw those bargeloads of grain ... instead of delivering them into parking orbit."

That's the stick. But Prof emphasizes the carrot. He wants to promote the idea of building an Earth-based catapult to make shipments to Luna as economical as shipments from Luna to earth. This may be difficult, he concedes, but not impossible. "When something must be done, engineers can find a way that is economically feasible."

Someone at the press conference asks Mannie if it's fair that the people on the Moon enjoy the benefits of living on colonies established using government tax money, when they don't pay taxes at all. Okay, listen carefully, because here we're getting to key Tea Party territory.

Mannie turns the question around. "What is it you want us to pay taxes for? ...I don't know much about your government... What do you get for your money?" The group throw out some of the standards: Free hospitals, libraries, roads, public schools, Social Security; in each case he shoots it down saying either that they don't have it, or they already pay for it through other means. Actually, Mannie's waiting for someone to bring up a key talking point: Police protection and armed forces. "Can you tell me how F.N. peace forces protect Luna? I did not know that any of your nations wanted to attack us... Now about those so-called 'policemen.' They were not sent to protect us.... They went mad and started raping and murdering! And now they are dead! So don't send us any more troops!"

But let's back up to the rest of the list. Mannie insists that either they didn't have it, or they already paid for it. But Mannie's fortunate enough to live in a world where the author makes the rules. Is Luna's tube system 100% subsidized by user fares with no government money whatsoever? Mannie says he doesn't need health insurance because he's healthy and he doesn't bet on his health, which is pretty big talk from a man who lost a limb in an industrial accident. Tea Party advocates would love to use a variation of Mannie's argument against government spending, but in truth it only works in Heinlein's Libertarian Utopia because he says it does.

But back to the PR blitz. Prof and Mannie travel all over the world, pushing the Loonie cause and also Prof's idea for an Earth-based catapult. Mannie has a conversation with a Chinese delegate who was present at their original meeting, who is intrigued by the idea, but cautious. Stu has great hopes that Dr. Chang will be an ally for Luna; Mannie is more dubious. Mannie visits the sites of Lexington and Concord to lay a wreath at Concord bridge; he gets a chance to see a ball game in Yankee Stadium; (he decides it's much better on video). Sometimes their press is good; sometimes not so good. After once incident Prof tells him:

"A managed democracy is a wonderful thing, Manuel, for the managers ... and its greatest strength is a 'free press' where 'free' is defined as 'responsible' and the managers define what is 'irresponsible.' Do you know what Luna needs most?"

"More ice."

"A news system that does not bottleneck through one channel. Our friend Mike is our greatest danger."

"Huh? Don't you trust Mike?"

"Manuel, on some subjects I don't trust even myself. Limiting the freedom of news 'just a little bit' is in the same category with the classic example 'a little bit pregnant.' We are not yet free nor will we be as long as anyone -- even our ally Mike -- controls our news."

While on Earth, Prof buys a brass cannon. A "signal gun" from the old days of sailing, much like one that Heinlein himself owned and would fire on his property on ceremonial occasions. Mannie thinks it's rather pointless and silly, but Prof wants it.

"Manuel, once there was a man who held a political make-work job... shining brass cannon around a courthouse."

"Why would courthouse have cannon?"

"Never mind. He did this for years. It fed him and let him save a bit, but he was not getting ahead in the world. So one day he quit his job, drew out his savings, bought a brass cannon -- and went into business for himself."

"Sounds like an idiot."

"No doubt. And so are we, when we tossed out the Warden."

In Kentucky, Mannie and Prof are making a public appearance. "Remember... to most people we will be as weirdly interesting as strange animals in a zoo. Do you remember that turtle on exhibition in Old Dome? That's us." In the Q & A, the topic of marriage on Luna comes up, and Mannie starts talking about his own family and shows a picture of them. The next day he is arrested for bigamy.

The charges are almost immediately dropped, but Mannie is angered and humiliated by the whole experience. It takes him a while to cool off and see the PR benefits of the incident; it made a lot of people on Earth more sympathetic towards the Loonies; and it also helped public opinion back on Luna, where Mannie's arrest was seen as an affront to Loonie pride.

Finally, Mannie and Prof are called again before the F.N. Committee. The claim of independence are rejected and the F.N. has resolved to re-assert it's authority and extend it's control not just over the prison itself but over all Luna. Grain quotas were to be quadrupled, and private farms will be absorbed into more efficient Authority-run operations. To Mannie's surprise, Prof doesn't argue, he doesn't talk about blood from a stone or throwing rocks. He just asks to be allowed to go home.

The Committee denies his request.

Afterwards the Chairman of the Committee meets with Mannie in secret and offers him the position of "Protector Pro-Tem" -- essentially the new Warden -- if he will sell the Committee's five-year plan to Luna. Mannie would much prefer to smash the guy's teeth in, but he is guarded in his replies, recording everything said.

Now it's time for Plan Scoot. Prof and Stu have been planning for this moment. They sneak Prof and Mannie out of the hospital by disguising them and having them simply walk out. Both of them have been training for this for months; although it will be a tremendous strain of Prof, he manages to walk from the hospital to a waiting car. They've lined up an old rocket whose owner is willing to go to Luna on a "humanitarian mission" to rescue the Terrans stranded there. Stu comes with them. The work he's done on Luna's behalf has left him broke and deeply in debt. Going back with Mannie and Prof will spare the Authority the trouble of transporting him.

NEXT: Earth Strikes Back !

Gary Friedrich, Ghost Rider and Marvel: Different Voices Respond UPDATED

Alex Ness: I asked several creative talents in the comic book medium: With regards to the recent events in the Ghost Rider/Gary Friedrich versus Marvel court cases, is Gary Friedrich being treated fairly, and if not why not? (Find links to the events HERE




STEPHEN R. BISSETTE

You know, these cases are coming into public view because Marvel has, over the decades, refused any and all rational discussion or negotiations regarding the properties. They refused living creators, like Gary Friedrich; they refused now-deceased creators, leaving it to their respective heirs to battle. So, now, decades later, it comes to a head—and the absolutely pro-corporate early 21st Century American legal landscape enforces absurd scenarios involving lack of contracts, lost contracts, dubious "back of check contracts," etc. as "evidence" of corporate ownership and the law of the land.

The problem is impossible to summarize succinctly. Why didn't these creators have agents, lawyers? Well, the fact is (and I entered the industry in 1976-77, when this was true), there was only ONE agent tolerated by the comics publishers in the 1970s (ironically, Mike Friedrich, by name); creators who dared mention either an agent or a lawyer were simply denied work or had doors closed on them. Why didn't these creators resolve these differences sooner? First of all, the Marvel of 1961 was no longer the Marvel of 1969, after Martin Goodman sold Marvel—which was no longer the Marvel of James Galton, or of Jim Shooter, or that was bought by New World, or that was fought over by Perlman/Icahn; etc. Secondly, the Copyright Act of 1976 changed the landscape—requiring contracts for the first time, for an industry that (let's face it) found retailers fighting CASH REGISTERS, bar codes, and basic accounting practices in the 1980s, and the publishers fought tooth-and-nail to make the altered "work-for-hire" definition fit their ramshackle, improvised manner of doing business with freelancers. Marvel rarely represented anything vaguely resembling "progressive" policies (even their much-feted royalty plan of the mid-1980s was a response to DC Comics instituting royalties for creators first, and don't even get me going on return of artwork policies). In fact, many creators did try to deal with these legal matters—and every case history is different, none evidencing anything except the inevitable Bataan Death March to where we see these creators now, losing legal battles long coming.

The bottom line is only two things may, in time, alter the course of history:
(1) The creative community—and by that, I include the motion picture industry, including screenwriters, actors, directors, technicians, etc.—joins forces to somehow redress the gross imbalance of power, or:

(2) Utter capitulation, resulting in a new generation realizing (a) there's absolutely no reason to bring anything of any creative or legal value to firms like Marvel/Disney, and (b) there's absolutely no reason to believe in a nanosecond in the corporate product espousing "heroes" fighting against enormous odds for "justice" or "right," since the behavior of the corporate proprietors themselves so transparently demonstrate how meaningless those fictions are.

(1) could begin, for instance, with, say, the star of the GHOST RIDER movies publicly donating $17,000 to the creator of a comicbook character he claims to "love." If the star wouldn't take such action, perhaps a co-star, or the screenwriter, or the director, or a collective of grips, or, hell, ANYONE with HALF the backbone fictional characters like Ghost Rider pretend to embody could take such public action.

The Actor's Guild and Writer's Guild strike when conditions become intolerable for their members. Well, Guilds, this doesn't involve your members—but it does involve a definable creative community, whose history now yields more employment for the industries you work in than almost any other pool of creative work, save the public domain realms of Austen, Doyle, Stoker, etc.

(2) takes a leap of imagination, too, that I frankly don't see even a spark of at present. The baying and bickering on online articles and essays about creator rights reveal a cesspool of animosity, resentment, drones asserting drone capitulation to corporate will, etc. directed at any creative individual who dares to—well, not so much "stand up for their rights," as "dare to interfere with the ceaseless flow of entertainment." The masses want their corporate parables without the messy intrusion of real-life battles against insurmountable odds for "justice" or what's "right."

There is a third or fourth possibility—say, international boycotts of such corporate product until source creators and/or their heirs are given crumbs; or, perhaps, a creator torching themselves at a national premiere of the next movie based on their creations, setting off an "Arab spring" and prompting questions at last about all this. But both of those seem even less likely than (1) or (2), and I'm not ever an advocate of self-immolation.

Ultimately, given our national identity as a consumer nation addicted to human slavery for everything from our Walmart shoes to our Apple computers, what we're seeing, I fear, is the national embracing of creative imaginations being codified as another form of slave labor, too. It's tough to interpret the bile and vitriol coming from the so-called "fan" community as anything other than that.

Me, I'm not even curious any longer about seeing these Marvel movies, and I'll never spend another penny on Marvel product or Marvel-derivative product of any kind. Marvel/Disney has made it completely clear where they stand on sharing even morsels of the billions they rake in, so I'll withhold my micromorsels from their coffers. It's a meaningless decision, I'm sure, in the grand scheme of things, but it's a start.

Visit Steve’s website



MIKE GRELL

Fair and legal are two separate things. Like many of us creators, Gary had to know that, unless you have a contract that says differently, the company you create a new character for owns that character and can do what they want with it and not have to pay you a cent. Guys like Siegel & Shuster, Jack Kirby and even Stan Lee found that out.

That's the legal.

The fair, in my opinion, would be to acknowledge his contribution and do something nice for the guy who made it all possible, rather than spend twenty times the amount on lawyers to hound him to hell.

That ain't gonna happen in this lifetime, because, despite what the government would have you believe, corporations are not people. They don't have any obligation to be benevolent. They do have an obligation to their stockholders to make money and part of that includes defending their copyright and trademark in court. They can't afford to simply look the other way, because they have to be concerned about precedent (look at Disney's case against THE AIR PIRATES). They don't have to give a single thing that is not covered in an enforceable contract.

And that, too, is fair.

Visit Mike at his website




CHUCK DIXON

At Marvel all you need to do is endorse your check and you've legally turned over all rights to them. Anyone who works in comics under a work for hire agreement knows that any rewards they receive are at the whim of the company who owns the property. The company can grant or deny you further funds at their discretion. Marvel certainly could have cut a check for Gary based off of the Ghost Rider movies. It's undeniable that he created the property (along with Mike Ploog). Marvel has given money to other creators when their material was used in other media. There's certainly enough money to go around after two movies and tons of merchandising. There's what's strictly legal and what's right. Marvel is way wrong in this case. But, sadly, Gary's in a large club of creators who are victims of very bad deals.

Visit Chuck at his website



Alex Ness here again. Thank you to Stephen, Mike and Chuck. They know the industry, they’ve worked in it and are still working, for a combined total of over 90 years.

For my part I know there are contracts signed. But in the advent of new technology and new avenues of revenue, the publishers and owners of the characters should well consider the cost of fighting challenges versus that of paying a fee, perhaps not huge, but something to say we appreciate how you enhanced this corporation.

I am boycotting Marvel and all ancillary companies. My money is not a big deal, but I can’t, in good conscience support the exploitation of creative talents. The reward reaped by Marvel versus that of Gary Friedrich is obscene.

UPDATED TO ADD ERIK LARSEN AND STEVEN GRANT COMMENTS:



On the face of it--it looks really shitty.

But I have no idea.

I wasn't there when the character was created and I don't know what Gary's contribution was. There are others claiming Gary was not involved with the character's creation. If that was the case--would it be right for him to sue Marvel and cost them a ton of money defending themselves?

On the other hand--who would claim to have co-created a character they didn't create?

I don't know the case--I don't know the creators but on the surface--it does look bad--it's Marvel beating up the little guy.

Regardless of who is in the right--it just seems very wrong for them to ask for money from him.





And this from Steven Grant

From a legal standpoint, yes, Gary is probably being treated fairly. It's not unusual in civil suits for a plaintiff who loses to be ordered to pay some or all of the defendant's legal fees. Trademark/copyright law pre-1977 is so murky it's hard to tell where the ownership stands on properties & whether Gary does have any rights to the Ghost Rider character. Certainly it's murky enough there was no reason for Gary to assume he didn't. Clearly the judge didn't see it that way.

However, Gary's right that it's chump change to a company that recently sold for, what was it?, $4 billion? That suggests the main point of the fine is punitive, not only to punish Gary for attempting to stake a claim in his own creation but as a message to the rest of the creative community not to challenge Marvel's ownership of properties or suffer what would likely be for them serious consequences, given how much they were paid in the first place. Unless there's some point of law allowing for an appeal, Marvel won the case; there's no point to them pressing this except to show a pretty ugly face to the creative community. In essence, they're demanding Gary pay back everything they ever paid him for his Ghost Rider work. The right move for Marvel now would be to waive the fine and let bygones be bygones. For his creation of the character alone, Gary deserves better from them.

UPDATED AGAIN

Steve Bissette posted this on Facebook ALERT, ALL COMICS CREATORS [Reposting, for a necessary (requested) edit; reposting all comments, too, after this main post. Apologies.]: With permission, I'm quoting key points my dear friend and own legal advisor/contract consultant (since 1992) Jean-Marc Lofficier raised on his posts to a Yahoo forum discussing Ty Templeton's cartoon concerning the Gary Friedrich v Marvel judgment. Jean-Marc succinctly notes WHY this judgment has changed EVERYTHING for anyone who has worked for Marvel, or what this judgment changes (probably irrevocably) about the landscape for all concerned:

"...with all due respect to Ty, he's talking (drawing?) out of his ass.

So to clarify again, here is what I thought is important to remember here:

1) This is the first time Marvel is using convention sales of copyrighted Marvel characters as a "weapon". They are of course perfectly entitled to do so, legally speaking. But it does mean that, from now on, all of you here who draw sketches of Marvel characters for money at conventions or sell sketchbooks containing pictures of Marvel characters are on notice that you might be sued (usually for triple the amount you made) should Marvel decide to go after you.

My legal advice to you guys is simple: STOP and destroy all sketchbooks for sale with copyrighted materials in it. I'm serious. You've just been put on notice by this case.

[Note: In a followup comment to a question on the matter of selling sketches/sketchbooks at conventions featuring Marvel characters, Jean-Marc added:]

If Disney and/or Marvel have a policy to deal with that sort of business, I would encourage anyone planning to sell sketches, etc. to contact them and obtain a waiver or a permission of some kind under that program.

--- [name withdrawn] is incorrect about one thing: Disney, if not Marvel, does have a full office staffed with para legals of young lawyers whose only job is to look for copyright/tm infringements and send C&D (cease & desist) letters. I have seen them. They don't do it for the money or to be a pain the the ass, they do it based on the legal theory that if you don't actively protect your (c)/tm, you run the risk of it being used against you as an affirmative defense in an infringement case.

Based on the GHOST RIDER case, it is, in my opinion, only a matter of time until Disney, now aware of the issue, sends one of their young attorneys with a stash of blank C&D letters at conventions and start handing them out to everyone selling Marvel sketches without authorization.

Receiving that letter will oblige you to hire a lawyer and even if Disney lets you off the hook (which they probably will), you might be out of a couple of grands by the time the process is over -- or you run the risk of being stuck with a $15K bill if you fight them.

Again, I emphasize: this is sound business practice for Disney; NOT doing it entails risks far greater than doing it. They have gone after children's nurseries before which had Mickey painted on their walls for the same exact legal reason. And that was far more time consuming and bad PR-wise that going after some comic book guys at artist's alleys.

It is only a matter of time.

So if they have a waiver/permission program as Ivan says, join it; if not, stop.

[Back to Jean-Marc's original, full post:]

2) Although there never was any serious dispute that Marvel owned whatever share of GR Gary Friedrich was claiming (personally, I'm not a mind reader but I think Friedrich was hoping for some kind of settlement), there remains two legal issues that Ty obviously didn't grasp:

2.1) When Moebius drew his SILVER SURFER with Stan Lee, he got royalties and he was still getting them when Starwatcher split in 2000. You will note that modern-day WFH agreements spell out that the money you're getting will be the sole compensation you will ever receive and you're not entitled to anything else. It is spelled out because if it is not, courts are at liberty to interpret the contract and decide whether or not you should be gettong something extra.

The back-of-the-check contract signed by Gary did transfer ownership of GR to Marvel, and the amount of that check was the consideration for publishing rights, but nowhere did it actually state (as it does today) that it was the ONLY consideration to which Gary might be entitled in the event of a film or a TV series. The Court could have easily decided that on the absence of that clause, Gary was owed something.

2.2.) There is a famous case about singer Peggy Lee who won her suit against Disney for their reuse of her songs in LADY & THE TRAMP on video, because that medium didn't exist when she signed her original agreement with the Mouse, and contracts at that time didn't specify the now standard "and other media to be invented in the future". The Court chose to interpret that lack of specificity in favor of Peggy Lee. When Marvel sold the rights to GR to the studio which produced it, they likely sold the video, DVD and game rights. These media did not exist when Friedrich signed his back of the check contract which did not list any and all future media. Therefore, based on the Peggy Lee case, the Court could have found that Marvel didn't own those rights, and therefore couldn't resell them, or, as in the Peggy Lee case, simply that they owe the plaintiff some kind of percentage, that's all.

So it remains my contention that Marvel owes "something" to Friedrich (and Ploog as well) based not on the publishing, but purely on the disposition of the multimedia rights to GR. That the Judge decided otherwise is a tough break for creators, and unjust.

3) Which brings me to my next point, which is that documentary standards are being unfairly applied throughout the judicial system, and somehow mistakes always seem to favor the corporations, not the small guy. The enforceability of a contract depends on accurate documentation which must be produced in Court. If you have a mortgage, but the bank cannot produce your properly signed promissory note, then the court has the possibility of nullifying your mortgage. It's happened in a few rare cases, but more often than not, people have been thrown out of their homes despite banks being unable to produce a properly signed note.

In this case, has any of you seen the back of the check signed by Friedrich?
Was that check properly endorsed? Was there anything crossed out? Why should mistakes in documentation automatically benefit the corporations, and the little guy should be held to standards of evidence that the companies themselves don't respect? Why did the Judge assume that the paperwork was in order & automatically benefited Marvel? What I'm saying is, if people can lose their homes despite proper paperwork, well, then, Marvel could lose GR despite its paperwork. It's up to the Court.

So whether or not you feel any sympathy for Gary and his cause, this is another loss for the Little Guy which, in the greater scheme of things, impacts all of us."

SPREAD THE WORD. SPREAD THIS LINK.

And QUIT doing, creating, selling ANY sketches or sketchbooks or prints featuring Marvel/Disney characters, IMMEDIATELY. And let fans know WHY you are no longer doing them, and/or CANNOT do them ever again.