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The Power Fantasy - Blog Posts
I think that the Power Fantasy wants us to understand the characters as they are in 1999. They know what happened, they know the world made it out alive, and thus so do we. But they also look back upon the past through the lens of the present.
We see the Tokyo event as Masumi does; an episode of dissociation, Etienne reaching out to her, and violence instilled into a single memory.
The Cuban missile crisis and New Mexico festival massacre are seen through Valentina's eyes, as remembered in the present.
The killing of the Major is seen through Jacky's eyes, and thus there is an emphasis on the violence of the act, and on the elements that will come to make him regret it. And obviously, Jacky's memories of the early Pyramid is distorted and simplified, not quasi-photorealistic like the other, more flashblub memories. Eliza is pure white.
And, of course, knowing how the crises of the past went puts us into the headspace of the superpowers in the present; neither they nor us know if this crisis is one they will get through. Compare the hypothetical linear Power Fantasy; crisis after crisis is resolved without the destruction of the world. What would mark the 1999 crises as any different?
I was talking to some people about the narrative effect of the issue #3 timeline in The Power Fantasy and the phrase that comes to my mind is "disaster voyeurism". If the story had started in 1945 and proceeded linearly, we'd arrive at each of the events on the timeline and not know what would happen or even if the world would survive. But with TPF's actual nonlinear structure, we know the world persists at least until 1999, and also that it faces these very specific crises.
I feel like that shifts the whole tone of these events. I know they're going to be awful, but I'm also really curious what happens, and the knowledge that "the world and all the main characters survive" puts a little distance between me and the nerve-wracking suspense of not knowing what happens. Someone on Discord described it as "anti-immersive"- not the exact word I'd choose, as I do feel immersed in the story in a lot of ways. But I see what they mean, in that I can look at past events with mixed eagerness and dread, rather than just dread like the characters must feel.
I was about to make a post about the general stress of living in the world of the Power Fantasy caused indoor smoking to have a longer life, but it turns out bans on indoor smoking only really started after the turn of the millennium. They’re younger than me
So where does Magus's power come from, anyways? How come he and only he has managed to become a Superpower? It can't just be that he researched it or whatever, someone else would've come across the right tome.
He mentioned squinting in the right way when he looks at Valentina and Eliza, to see their power; I suspect that's it. He really is an atomic, it's just that his power is a minor vision thing that wouldn't mean shit if Valentina's entry into the one timeline hasn't gotten Angelic gunk all over everything. Now, he can see the secret workings of all Numinous whatever, enough to learn the secrets to end the world.
But it's not enough, not enough to keep him safe, not enough to guarantee someone else won't eventually figure out how to unlock that lock with spaghetti. So he makes his little pyramid scheme.
The interesting thing about Masumi is that for all that her condition is tragic, the story doesn't pull punches on the fact that she's also kind of a self-centered dick.
Shea a person with a continuous need for praise and positive emotions or millions, possibly everyone, dies.
And she chooses to go into art. She goes into a field with tons of competition and purely subjective results and is thereby bringing everyone else on earth, Including 4 of the most powerful people on earth, along for the stroke-my-ego ride.
And no one can tell her no, can tell her to back off, because that conversation might put her over the edge and turn her into a giant monster. She has a girlfriend who cannot break up with her because that would kill her.
It's a tragic situation to be in, it's sucky to know that everyone around you is taking reactions out of fear, but she very clearly isn't helping, and years of being treated that way have not helped.
Kid Ignition had five lines this issue and four of them were disparaging of his life and/or of Heavy.
Once Kid gets a taste of freedom I doubt he'd ever want to be bound again
I'm honestly less interested in, "Is Kid Ignition really as powerful as Heavy thinks?" and more in, "Is Kid Ignition really as loyal and obedient as Heavy thinks?" I guess an exact repeat of The Major would be poetically ironic or something. But from a character standpoint, I really just want to see Kid lashing out at his controlling, high-pressure parents like basically every teenager since the concept of teenagerhood was invented. Except, of course, he's not your average kid.
Can Heavy yell louder than Masumi? Does it matter?
(This is for @jkjones21, in a way- he asked me to write about a certain page of The Power Fantasy and I'm taking it in a completely different direction than he suggested to me. He did have a good observation about the power lines and cicada as iconic anime/manga motifs, but I don't actually have anything to add to what he said.)
Okay, so from a certain perspective, you could say these two images are proof that Heavy can yell louder than Masumi, because of the way font size works in comics. I think that's an overly reductive point of view, but I want to start with it because it's a simpler version of what I actually feel like is going on, so here goes.
In the third panel of the first image, we see Masumi from so far away that she's barely visible, and her dialogue font is small to show that we can barely hear her. Then in the fourth panel, we see her closer up, and the big font size (coupled with her angry posture) make it clear that she's actually yelling at the top of her lungs, she was just too far away to clearly hear before.
By comparison, in the third panel of the second image, we see Haven (an entire city) from far enough away that Heavy isn't even visible from where he's standing on one of its balconies- but despite the distance, his dialogue font is still really big. If you can clearly hear Heavy yelling from far away, but Masumi's voice gets muted with distance, he's louder, right?
Except nothing in comics is real. You're not visually representing a world that consistently exists, you're representing a story that shifts in emotional meaning. The aesthetic effect of Masumi's voice there (at least, its effect on me) is that for all her emotional ferocity, she's just a small angry blip in an overall peaceful world. In the context of the story, her taking the human-scale perspective of "How could you murder hundreds of people?" is immature compared to Etienne's cynical pragmatism. And the visuals back this up by deflating her anger through making her look small.
And then Heavy... I don't want to say "he's louder because you're supposed to take his anger more seriously," because that's not quite true. This is an out-of-context excerpt as of today (five more days until issue #6!!!!) but I get the sense it's being played for comedy. Heavy's louder than a person that far away has any right to be, because the force of his anger is hyperbolic.
...it's not really about who's literally more loud. It's not even about who's more angry (not that you can measure anger on a scale, even.) It's about how the reader is supposed to interpret each character's anger- and the weird thing is, Masumi's small-font anger and Heavy's large-font anger are both coded as ineffectual. She's not as loud as she seems to think she is, and he's so loud it becomes melodramatic and funny. They've both got very real things to yell about, and I'm sure they take themselves seriously... but the narrative is undercutting both of them, for effect. (Again though- I'm interpreting the second image out of context! Or I guess you could say, the second image's caption is offering a different context from when I'll actually see the whole issue.)
Oh, and my headcanon? Heavy can yell louder in terms of literal decibels, but Masumi has an ear-piercing scream that's like a zillion times more alarming.
these two are like sisters to me.
both issues are focused on young depressed artists whose entire being, their own nature and their powers, overshadows their art.
people loving Tara (wicdiv) as a god but hating her if she wants them to see beyond her godhood with her songs/poetry vs people fearing Masumi (tpf) as a kaiju-summoning destroyer and praising her creations no matter what even though, by Masumi's own admission, she know no one really cares about her paintings.
how both are so resigned to it.
do you see my vision.
Everyone involved on this has done such a stellar job and it was such a joy to be a part of. If you care about the Power Fantasy you simply have to read it.
THE POWER CUT OUT NOW!
The Power Cut is a fanzine about The Power Fantasy. The Power Cut is a collection of meta essays, illustrations, and jokes. The Power Cut contains mature content and spoilers for The Power Fantasy #1-5. The Power Cut is available free at the links below. The Power Cut is so excited to meet you!
LINKS Google Drive Dropbox
CONTRIBUTORS @artbyblastweave @idonttakethislightly @jkjones21 @khepris-worst-soldier @meserach @rei-ismyname @tazmuth @the-joju-experience
Cover art by @tazmuth
@the-joju-experience asked me about Issue 1, page 1 of The Power Fantasy, mentioning "the scale of the Superpowers in the image and the single intro line." It definitely is remarkable that these two incredibly powerful characters are kept small and in the corner of the panel- making them look like an afterthought to the peaceful, everyday city scene. For me it creates this sense of separation for the two Superpowers- their power makes them outsiders to the mundane world.
Sometimes smallness represents weakness or unimportance, but here I think it's more about them not centered in the image, because they're not really a part of this world. We see two laughing people much closer to the foreground, showing that this is the kind of thing people are doing on this lovely evening in the city. They're the rule- Valentina and Etienne are the exception.
The sense of the two Superpowers' isolation is reinforced by the lineart and color. Most of this page is packed full of vivid color and intricate detail, but right around Valentina and Etienne is a patch of gray. The ground under their feet, the wall behind Valentina, and the door just around the corner. It singles them out as not really part of this lovely evening scene. There's also a lot less detail drawn right around them- there's chalk drawings on the wall, sure, but notice how the bricks and stonework around the two of them drop out of view right next to them. In an image that's drawn with so much diligent attention to reality, Valentina and Etienne exist outside of that tangibly detailed world.
Basically- I'd say this page illustrates how everyday life can be beautiful and peaceful, and how our two Superpowers are isolated from that life. This is the very first page of The Power Fantasy- nothing's been said or shown in-canon about their powers, or the burden of having those powers. But I think the visuals here do a lot to provide emotional context to Etienne saying, "Of course, the ethical thing to do is to take over the world."
Etienne himself is standing casually, and he's wearing fashionable but not outrageous clothes- his body alone doesn't make him look like he has godlike powers that would actually enable him to follow through on what he says. But the framing of the page tells us there's something different about him- something about him that sets him apart from those laughing background (foreground?) extras. He's visually not just here to have fun on this otherwise beautiful night- when he makes that big bold statement, it looks like a serious moment in an otherwise lighthearted world.
The dialogue of The Power Fantasy takes a few more pages to really drive the point home of how Valentina and Etienne's powers isolate them from the rest of humanity, as well as their own ability to be human and find joy. But the art has already started doing that in this very first image. I think, in some half-conscious way, I understood that all along- it's part of what makes the comic emotionally work. But, thanks to Joju for encouraging me to look close enough that I actually spelled it out to myself!
The Power Cut previews: The Ensemble
Essay and art previews for some more of the essays from The Power Cut, an upcoming The Power Fantasy fanzine! Check out our other previews here. The Power Cut is coming February 14!
Credits:
Introduction: essay @meserach, art @idonttakethislightly
Lux and Magus: essay @the-joju-experience, art @jkjones21
The Major: essay and art @artbyblastweave
Funnies: text and art @jkjones21
Afterword: essay @meserach, art @tazmuth
Blue Delliquanti, the creator of one of my all-time favorite comics, did this post a while back about cartooning technique. The quote I want to highlight is:
"A question I ask is who the “viewer” of a scene is intended to be. Adversary is often framed through Curtis’s visual perspective, but not always. There are certain things that he doesn’t see or can’t recognize, and I was very deliberate about what those moments were." (Where Curtis is one of the characters in another comic they created.)
When I first read that quote I found it intriguing, but I couldn't quite make sense of what they meant by it. I got the sense it meant more than just "Is the panel showing what any one character literally sees?" but I couldn't reason through what someone's visual perspective really was.
Now, after spending about a zillion years staring at certain pages of The Power Fantasy, I think I get it. Let's talk about what Tonya sees in this page, versus what she experiences, and how the visual storytelling zig-zags between those two things.
There's two interesting things- okay, there's a bunch of interesting things going on in this page, but let's talk about the shift between panels 1 and 2, and between panels 3 and 4. They're both communicating what Tonya experiences, but not by showing what she sees- in fact, showing the world through her eyes (literally) would probably do a much worse job of putting you in her shoes (metaphorically.)
Panels 1 and 2
While Tonya is being yanked through the air by Heavy's gravity powers, the colors go from "realistic" (full-spectrum) to a limited palette that turns her skin blue. This isn't an indication that gravity powers turn things blue- they never do that any other time, and also it doesn't make sense for gravity to have a color. Heavy's powers aren't blue, Tonya's feelings are blue- it looks weird and unnatural to have blue skin, and it feels weird and unnatural to be sent flying. Also- I think the implication is that in panel 1 of this page, she's already arrived, because the only movement we see is her opening her eyes. She continues to feel like the world has gone all wrong, right up until she opens her eyes and sees that she's arrived.
Panels 3 and 4
Panel 3 is the one panel on this page that could plausibly be what Tonya actually sees- page 4 definitely isn't. But they both communicate how she interprets Heavy in that moment, even if she can't literally see his face from their positions in panel 4. He goes from a friendly, somewhat romanticized figure in panel 3 to sketchy and roguish in panel 4. Heavy's suddenly in shadow (even though he's facing a light source, if you really think about it!) because he's acting shady. (A lot of visual effects overlap with verbal idioms, which is something I could talk about for about a million years if given the change, but I'm trying to stay on topic.)
...so this entire page is fairly strongly from Tonya's perspective, even if only one panel of it is through her eyes. I plan to keep digging into this topic, because I don't think that's always the case- I think there's scenes/pages that switch back and forth between characters, that don't align the reader with any one character, and so on. Updates forthcoming as I learn more.
The Power Cut previews: The Superpowers
Essay and art previews for some of the essays from The Power Cut, an upcoming The Power Fantasy fanzine!
Credits:
Masumi: essay @jkjones21, art @tazmuth
Heavy: essay @idonttakethislightly, art @jkjones21
Etienne: essay @meserach, art @artbyblastweave
Magus: essay @rei-ismyname, art @jkjones21
Valentina: essay @khepris-worst-soldier, art @idonttakethislightly
Eliza: essay and art @idonttakethislightly
The Power Cut contains more than your daily recommended dose of insightful character commentary
THE POWER CUT
A fanzine about THE POWER FANTASY
Issue #1: "The Balancing Act" coming February 14, 2025!
The Power Cut is a collection of meta essays, illustrations, and jokes. The Power Cut contains mature content and spoilers for The Power Fantasy #1-5. The Power Cut will be available free online. The Power Cut is so excited to meet you!
Contributors:
@artbyblastweave
@idonttakethislightly
@jkjones21
@khepris-worst-soldier
@meserach
@rei-ismyname
@tazmuth
@the-joju-experience
Cover art by @tazmuth
An alternative way Gillen has described TPF is “as if your idiot clique of friends had to stay civil or the whole world would end”, and yeah it’s hard to imagine, with ours and Tonya’s front row seat, the civility lasting much longer at all
What I like about Tonya in The Power Fantasy is that she's the journalist viewpoint character, right? The character who's asking questions and poking at the same kinds of things that the audience would be poking at. And over the course of the story she's developing the shell shock that any quote-unquote "normal" person from our world or one similar would have, if they got plunged into the deep end. But the thing is that this isn't some mysterious new paradigm shift she's investigating, she isn't new to this and it isn't new to her, she was doing a piece on one of the leading public figures of the last fifty years when she got caught up in this. What's new to her is that she's spent somewhere around a week in proximity to these six people when they're going through a fairly-eventful-but-still-within-parameters week of their own lives- not quite business as usual, but close- and she's getting a front row seat to how the six most famous people on earth are perpetually six seconds away from fucking up and destroying the whole planet, and how much everyone attendant to this messy friend group needs to constantly bust their asses to prevent that from happening. That's the big reveal of the setting, from her perspective, that's what's inculcating her issue-5 certainty that the world is going to end. It's neat.
I'm not actually sure he made her those eggs, I think maybe he had a cult member do it, but this sure was fun to draw.
the devil is such a hilarious character, imagine rocking up to the cape scene super early and thinking you're hot shit, choosing or being given a name as big a deal as *that*, and then fucking around once and instantly finding out
i hope someone in this setting has time powers so 1970s magus can come and break 1999 magus' fucking jaw
I have been compiling promotional/cover images and I thought maybe other people would find it useful too, so. Will update it continually.
heavy power fantasy is so cool i wish i could crush my enemies into meat orbs
Zion Worm 🤝 The Queen Power Fantasy
Mysterious alien entities who decide the uk really just needs to fucking go
I made a zine! An Inaccurate Recap of "The Power Fantasy" Issue 1. It's the dumbest, messiest thing I've drawn in a looooong time, and I laughed the entire time I was drawing it. Under the cut: spoilers for the entirety of TPF #1, swear words, and some incredibly cartoonish violence.
...it's not actually as inaccurate as I thought it was going to be? I want to clarify that Heavy is saying the same thing as the other four, but means it in the opposite way. I'm not doing another draft though, because any possible improvements to this would really only be making it worse.
Oh, and here's the whole thing laid out in zine format. Feel free to print, cut out along the border, and assemble- here's a decent diagram of how to fold a zine.
What to Watch at the End
I've been happy to run in to a couple pieces of media back-to-back over the last week or so- plenty of down time, since I have that bug that's going around. They make pretty interesting companion pieces to one another, actually. With the end of the world so close now, we're starting to get a bit more genuinely thoughtful art about the subject, stuff you really can't say until you have this kind of vantage point.
They are The Power Fantasy (written by Kieron Gillen), an early-days ongoing comic of the 'deconstructing superheroes' type, and Pantheon (created by Craig Silverstein), one of those direct-to-streaming shows that get no marketing and inevitably fade away quickly; this one's an adult cartoon with two eight-episode seasons, adapted from some Ken Liu short stories, with a complete and satisfying ending. I'll put in a cut from here; targeted spoilers won't occur, but I'll be talking about theme and subject matter as well as a few specific plot beats, so you won't be entirely fresh if you read on.
Pantheon is a solid, if wobbly, stab at singularity fiction, with more of a focus on uploaded intelligence than purely synthetic (though both come in to play). It's about two-thirds YA to start, declining to about one-fifth by the end. The Power Fantasy, by contrast, is an examination of superpowers through a geopolitical lens that compares them to nuclear states; I'm not as good a judge of comics over all (particularly unfinished comics), but this one seems very high quality to me.
The intersection of the Venn Diagram of these two shows is the problem of power, and in particular the challenges of a human race handing off the baton to the entities that supersede it. They're both willing to radically change the world in response to the emergence of new forces; none of them even try to 'add up to normal' or preserve the global status quo. Both reckon with megadeath events.
I'm a... fairly specific mix of values and ethical stances, so I'm well used to seeing (and enjoying!) art and media that advance moral conclusions I don't agree with on a deep level. I used to joke that Big Hero Six was the only big-budget movie of its decade that actually captured some of my real values without compromise. (I don't think it's quite that bad, actually, I was being dramatic, but it's pretty close.)
Pantheon was a really interesting watch before I figured out what it was doing, because it felt like it was constantly dancing on the edge of either being one of those rare stories, or of utterly countermanding it with annoying pablum. It wasn't really until the second or third episode that I figured out why- it's a Socratic dialogue, a narrative producing a kind of dialectical Singularity.
The show maintains a complex array of philosophies and points of view, and makes sure that all of them get about as fair a shake as it can. This means, if you're me, then certain characters are going to confidently assert some really annoying pro-death claims and even conspire to kill uploaded loved ones for transparently bad reasons. If you're not me, you'll find someone just as annoying from another direction, I'm sure of it. Everybody has an ally in this show, and everybody has an enemy, and every point of view both causes and solves critical problems for the world.
For example, the thing simply does not decide whether an uploaded person is 'the same as' the original or a copy without the original essence; when one man is uploaded, his daughter continues thinking of him as her dad, and his wife declares herself widowed, and both choices are given gravitas and dignity. He, himself, isn't sure.
This isn't something you see in fiction hardly at all- the last time I can think of was Terra Ignota, though this show lacks that story's gem-cut perfection. It's that beautiful kind of art where almost nobody is evil, and almost everything is broken. And something a little bit magical happens when you do this, even imperfectly, because the resulting narrative doesn't live in any single one of their moral universes; it emerges from all of them, complexly and much weirder than a single simplistic point of view would have it. And they have to commit to the bit, because the importance of dialogue is the core, actual theme and moral center of this show.
The part of rationalism I've always been least comfortable with has been its monomania, the desire to sculpt one perfect system and then subject all of reality to it. This becomes doomerism very quickly; in short order, rationalists notice 'out of the crooked timber of humanity, no straight thing was ever made', and then conclude that we're all very definitely going to die, once the singleton infinite-power system takes over, because it too will be flawed. (e.g. this joking-not-joking post by Big Yud.)
And don't get me wrong, I do take that concern seriously. I don't think I can conclusively, definitely convince myself that rationalism is wrong on this point, not to a degree of confidence that lets me ignore that risk. I don't at all begrudge the people devoting their entire professional lives to avoiding that outcome, even though I don't take it as given or even as particularly likely myself.
But it is precisely that monomania that is the central villain of this show, if it even has one. Breakdowns in dialogue, the assertion of unilateral control, conquering the world for its own good. The future, this show says, is multipolar, and we get there together or not at all.
That's a tremendously beautiful message, and a tremendously important one. I do wish it was more convincing.
The Power Fantasy works, quite hard, to build believably compassionate personalities into the fabric of its narrative. It doesn't take easy ways out, it doesn't give destroy-the-world levels of power to madmen or fools. Much like Pantheon, it gives voice to multiple, considered, and profoundly beautiful philosophies of life. Its protagonists have (sometimes quite serious) flaws, but only in the sense that some of the best among us have flaws; one of them is, more or less literally, an angel.
And that's why the slow, grinding story of slow, grinding doom is so effective and so powerful.
In a way that Pantheon does not, TPF reckons with the actual, specific analysis of escalation towards total destruction. Instead of elevating dialogue to the level of the sacred, it explores the actual limits and tendencies of that dialogue. It shows, again and again, how those good-faith negotiations are simply and tragically not quite good enough, with every new development dragging the world just an inch closer to the brink, making peace just a little bit more impossible. Those compassionate, wise superpowers are trapped in a nightmare that's slowly constricting around them, and they're compassionate and wise enough to know exactly what that means while remaining entirely unable to stop it.
It's most directly and obviously telling a story about the cold war, of course, not about artificial intelligence per se. The 'atomics' of TPF are just X-Men with the serial numbers filed off, and are therefore not constructed artifacts the way that uploaded and synthetic minds are; there's some nod to an 'superpowers arms race' in the AI sense of the term, but it's not a core theme. But these are still 'more than human' in important ways, with several of the characters qualifying directly as superintelligences in one way or another.
The story isn't complete (just getting started, really), so I don't want to speak too authoritatively about its theme or conclusions. But it's safe to say that the moral universe it lives in isn't a comfortable one. Echoing rationalists, the comic opens with an arresting line of dialogue: "The ethical thing to do, of course, would be to conquer the world."
In his excellent book Superintelligence, Nick Bostrom discusses multipolarity somewhat, and takes a rather dim view of it. He sees no hope for good outcomes that way, and argues that it will likely be extremely unstable. In other words, it has the ability to cloud the math, for a little while but it's ultimately just a transitional phase before we reach some kind of universal subordination to a single system.
The Power Fantasy describes such a situation, where six well-intentioned individuals are trying to share the world with one another, and shows beat-by-beat how they fail.
Pantheon cheats outrageously to make its optimism work- close relationships between just the right people, shackles on the superintelligences in just the right degree, lucky breaks at just the right time. It also has, I think, a rather more vague understanding of the principles at play (though it's delightfully faithful to the nerd culture in other ways; there's constant nods to Lain and Ghost in the Shell, including some genuinely funny sight gags, and I'm pretty sure one of the hacker characters is literally using the same brand of mouse as me).
TPF doesn't always show its work, lots of the story is told in fragments through flashbacks and nonlinear fragments. But what it shows, it shows precisely and without compromise or vagueness. It does what it can to stake you to the wall with iron spikes, no wiggle room, no flexibility.
But all the same, there's an odd problem, right? We survived the Cold War.
TPF would argue (I suspect) that we survived because the system collapsed to a singleton- the United States emerged as the sole superpower, with the Pax Americana reigning over the world undisputed for much of the last forty years. There were only two rivals, not six, and when one went, the game functionally ended.
In other words, to have a future, we need a Sovereign.
So let me go further back- the conspicuous tendency of biospheres to involve complex ecosystems with no 'dominant' organism. Sure, certain adaptations radiate quickly outward; sometimes killing and displacing much of what came before. But nature simply gives us no prior record of successful singletons emerging from competitive and dynamic environments, ever. Not even humans, not even if you count our collective species as one individual; we're making progress, but Malaria and other such diseases still prey on us, outside our control for now.
TPF would argue, I suspect, that there's a degree of power at which this stops being true- the power to annihilate the world outright, which has not yet been achieved but will be soon.
But that, I think, has not yet been shown to my satisfaction.
Obligate singleton outcomes are a far, far more novel claim than their proponents traditionally accept, and I think the burden of proof must be much higher than simply having a good argument for why it ought to be true. A model isn't enough; models are useful, not true. I'm hungry for evidence, and fictional evidence doesn't count.
It's an interesting problem, even with the consequences looming so profoundly across our collective horizon right now. TPF feels correct-as-in-precise, the way that economists and game theorists are precise. But economics and game theory are not inductive sciences; they are models, theories, arguments, deductions. They're not observations, and not to be trusted as empirical observations are trusted. Pantheon asserts again and again the power of dialogue and communication, trusts the multipolar world. And that's where my moral and analytical instincts lie too, at least to some degree. I concern myself with deep time, and deep time is endlessly, beautifully plural. But Pantheon doesn't have the rigor to back that up- this is hope, not deduction, and quite reckless in its way. Trying to implement dialectical approaches in anything like a formal system has led to colossal tragedy, again and again.
One narrative is ruthlessly rigorous and logically potent, but persistently unable to account for the real world as I've seen it. The other is vague, imprecise, overconfident, and utterly beautiful, and feels in a deep way like a continuation of the reality that I find all around me- but only feels. Both are challenging, in their way.
It's a bit scary, to be this uncertain about something this consequential. This is a question around which so much pivots- the answer to the Drake paradox, the nature of the world-to-come, the permanence of death. But I simply don't know.
I think it's pretty funny how The Power Fantasy has a scene highlighting how Haven has plenty of doors that close, but then later we see that Heavy's bedroom just has incredibly translucent partial curtains. "We're open about our weird sex stuff. We're secret about our secrets."
As we head into issue 6, wherein “Magnus and Heavy’s 18-years-in-the-making plans for world-domination are revealed” I think it’s worthwhile to remember that some of the most dangerous times in the Cold War was when one side erroneously believed that nuclear war was something they could win, or would soon be able to win (see, eg the Star Wars Defence system). Nuclear peace was enforced by MAD, and so too is the continuing peace between the Superpowers, but MAD breaks down the instant one side thinks they can win, that action stops being lose-lose.
Heavy thought conflict between him and The Major would be lose-lose; an instant after he learned otherwise The Major was a ball of meat.
In issue 6 Heavy and Magnus will think they can win. How many will die proving them wrong?
In issue #1 of The Power Fantasy, we get at least a glimpse of most of the Superpowers' living or working spaces- the exception is Etienne. For four of them- Valentina, Eliza, Masumi, Magus- the color palettes of their spaces are very similar to how they usually dress, and I also think their spaces are on-point symbolism for who they are. Let's look at the places we see, one by one.
Valentina lives in a small, cozy house on a scrapped-together space station- she loves the small details of human culture, but will always have to take an outsider role. The interior is designed with warm neutrals, similar to the golden yellows she often wears.
Eliza's space is cloaked in shadow, with candelabras and high windows that barely illuminate anything- she's eerie and mysterious, with religious motifs. It's high-contrast black and red, like the colors of her dramatic, costume-like outfits.
Masumi works in a huge warehouse- suited to the large-scale ambitions of her art, but also an industrial space that feels sterile and empty. The pastel paints she uses are all over her outfit, and when she dresses up for her gallery opening, it's in similar pastels.
And Magus works in a dimly-lit pyramid full of strange technomagic- the angles of the walls feel alien and menacing, as do the unfamiliar gadgets. His space includes Pyramid members, not just himself, so its design reflects the messaging he sends them about uncanny power. He dresses in eerie greens that make him almost blend into his environment.
Later we see Valentina's 1962 apartment and Magus's 1978 flat, which tell us more about how those two have changed or stayed the same. But I want to talk about how issue #1 dedicates one page each to those four characters and their spaces- a very obvious parallelism that leaves out Etienne and Heavy.
Etienne's traveling, so of course he can't be depicted within that pattern. He also comments to Tonya that he likes travel, and in issue #3 he implies that he flies transatlantic pretty regularly, so it's possible that he feels just as comfortable traveling the world than staying home.
But Heavy… he's at home, taking Etienne's psychic call just like everyone else. But he's outside the pattern because his relationship to his space is different.
Haven is beautiful. It's all pastels, it's full of flourishing houseplants, it's built with swooping curves rather than workaday right angles. There's enough charming little details that if I tried to make a comprehensive list you'd get bored reading it. The oveall aesthetic effect is peaceful, luxurious, idealistic, and gentle.
Basically, Heavy is completely at odds with the city he built. It's his place, for his people… but notice how the forty-something guy in pajamas stands out among all the beautiful young people with impeccable fashion sense. Four of the Superpowers seem to have designed their signature space to represent the way they live their lives. So why does Heavy live in a space that doesn't look or feel anything like him?
I see a couple possible takes on that. You could think of the discrepancy as straightforward hypocrisy- he founded his city on ideals he consistently fails to live up to. But… well, I have an alternate take that's kind of personal. I'm saving the details for another post, but basically: I think Heavy knows that Haven is the opposite of the face he presents to the world, and that's exactly the point.
America's modern psychic shields are Magnus's Numinous tech, which implies that they didn't have shielding prior to Magnus's rightward shift and his involvement with America. So when then, did Etienne not stop the New Mexico Festival Massacre, or at least warn Valentina? Was it a deliberate attempt to alienate her from America? Or was he even hoping that they would succeed? The balancing act would be easier with one less Superpower around, even if its Valentina, but I think they're were still too close at that point for Etienne to do that.
And more importantly, how did he explain this lapse to Valentina?
These images from J. Michael Straczynski's Rising Stars gestures in the same direction I was gesturing with that Aquaman post- there's a really interesting archetype in superpower fiction consisting of characters who "Step Outside" in the way described here. Superhumans who remove themselves from society- not in a "kneel before me" way, but simply out of recognizing that participating in society in a conventional manner offers them significantly less than it does an average person (though not nothing- insert that MP100 monologue about "can you make a soda can.") Libertarians who fuck off to the moon and carve a Gadsen snake visible from earth, that kind of guy.
Invincible featured the title character gradually sliding into something adjacent to this as he realized that he was just sort of going through the motions by attending college and so on, when his girlfriend can wish a house into existence and the Cecil throws money at him to do stuff he'd do for free. The entire main cast of The Power Fantasy is doing something like this- you're most likely in no danger if you see one of the Superpowers walking down the street but most of them probably haven't paid for a meal in years (unless they insist on paying, which wraps back around to having the same dynamic as not paying.) Superman yo-yos on the topic of how accountable he makes himself to human governments, but I strongly doubt he got a permit for that fuckoff-huge fortress in the arctic. And so on. Obviously not all superhumans can get away with this- Spider-Man is held back from becoming a full-time bank robber by way more than just his conscience. But whether they could get away with this is a great characterization question to ask of any superhuman, and it's a door you can't really close once it's open- any decision they do make from that point forward will be implicitly contrasted against their everpresent option to just Hit Da Bricks.
As a person that knows a lot more about capeshit than me, what’s the meta-textual significance of the Superpowers in The Power Fantasy abstaining from establishing secret identities?
Principally it's to signal that the characters, while informed by the traditional superhero paradigm, exist largely outside of it.
Contemporary superhero fiction has a complicated relationship with the concept of The Secret Identity. When you come at the premise fresh without years of ossified genre convention, you get hit with the double whammy that a civilian identity is increasingly difficult to keep secret and that even if you buy into the idea of doing vigilante shit in secret to avoid going to jail, it's still going to take some extra work to get to the finish line of grown men calling themselves "Batman" or "Ant Man" and expecting to be taken seriously.
So, retellings will often go out of their way justify how these characters could develop these public identities semi-organically. "Superman" is usually not Clark Kent's idea in modern retellings- the media names him that, Lois names him that, and he runs with it. The Batman has the fantastic recurring gag that Bruce appears to actually self-identify as the comically overwrought "Vengeance," but the bat motif led to everyone just calling him Batman instead. The X-Men have advanced the idea, in a couple different forms, that "Mutant names" are a sub-cultural thing brushing up against a cult thing, a ceremonial way of setting yourself above and apart from baseline humanity. And you've got military callsigns, obviously. I think that's where "Ant-Man" and "Hawkeye" come from in the MCU.
In The Power Fantasy, none of the superpowers have a dual identity because they've all got extremely specific political (or artistic) projects that don't mesh well with that. To a degree I think this is playing in the same space as X-Men, where a lot of the cast have shifted over the years from being public ciphers to being public activists whose real names are on the news alongside their code names when they blow something up. But even if they don't have dual identities, the superpowers do have identities, personas, nicknames; there's a mix of deliberate image-building and outside-designation-by-society occurring. "Heavy" Harris is a thing an activist or cult leader who controls gravity could plausibly come to be called in the course of Moving and Shaking. Masumi is mentioned, in passing, to also go by the name of "Deconstructa," which reads like either a pretentious artist thing or a common-parlance nickname she picked up after the Kaiju thing. Eliza Hellbound is clearly not that woman's real name, but also, it is- and it's descriptive, and she's certainly powerful enough that that's what she gets to be called if she wants. "Jacky Magus" is really really really obviously not what's on that guys birth certificate, but it's also the only name he has that actually matters. Ettiene gets a whole monologue about the necessity of constructing himself as a figurehead that human governments can work with. He wears bright yellow, he gives interviews, and I will eat my hat if his actual last name is Lux. These people are similar to traditional superheroes in that they are constructing larger-than-life identities, they're playing a game, they're selling the world on specific narratives about themselves. But the truth that they're covering for is never that they've got some kind of secret civilian life waiting for them when they clock out. By choice or otherwise, all six of them are simply well past that.