When Morrison announced he would be making an Image comic with Darick Robertson called Happy, I was about as happy as anyone. I could get all that and still just not care, and even be cool with whatever frowning condescension stating such an opinion in the comics public would get me, except for one thing: I suspected I was also no longer connecting with Grant Morrison. My generation grew up viewing Watchmen as this unimpeachable holy artifact that no one ( other than Joe Casey) would be ballsy enough to reimagine and here’s Alan Moore’s own weird arch-nemesis teaming up with fellow UK legend Frank Quitely to do it leaner and meaner and somehow grim and technicolored. I understood why the comics internet was losing their shit over it, because it was the culmination of decades of Watchmen idol worship, like The Clash covering The White Album instead of making Sandinista! or Steven Soderbergh pulling a Gus van Sant and remaking Citizen Kane frame by frame. The message in my brain was that I just really didn’t connect with this thing. I was rereading Pax Americana, the latest entry in Grant Morrison’s epoch spanning super hero opus The Multiversity and I was hit by a blast of sudden clarity. I had this little comics freakout a bit ago.
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