I tend not to get as excited talking about comic books as I do movies. Maybe because all my teenage favorites—with Moore-y exception—weren’t as great as I thought they were. In most cases, because I did read better comics, it’s not even because of anything wrong with the story or the writing, just how I see the formula working. And I tend to like comics where they invite some degree of patience, so it’s more time spent watching the machinations function. It’s like I burnt out my nostalgia on comics in the latter half of the aughts. It’s led to a lot of changes in how I do Comics Fondle posts and how I want to do them. But today, I read such a bad comic, its failures actually managed to find a little bit more of my nostalgia to flambé.