Comment: American Empower

Ever felt like suing your comics retailer? Well now you can, if Congressman Hunter gets his way. John Parker takes a look at House Bill 4239, and doesn't like what he sees.
31 May 2004

JESUS, NOT AGAIN

I'm sure you've heard of this by now. You have to have heard of this by now.

I'm speaking, of course, about House Bill 4239, the "Parents' Empowerment Act". The title alone should give you all chills.

California Congressman Duncan Hunter, a Republican, has introduced this new and potentially horrifying act of legislation to the United States House Judiciary Committee in the hopes of turning every morally responsible parent in the US into his or her own prosecuting attorney, valiantly struggling against the wave of morally reprehensible material that has almost certainly secretly ruined every American's life.

The bill is specifically designed to "provide a civil action for a minor injured by exposure to an entertainment product containing material that is harmful to minors." And what material is considered harmful? "Any pornographic communication, picture, image, graphic image file, article, recording, writing, or other pornographic matter of any kind that is obscene."

The bill goes on to further clarify obscenity in very specific, though subjective, terms using words like prurient, offensive, perverted, pernicious and lewd. Standard stuff, considering the intent and overall tenor of this bill and others like it.

But this is where it gets really shifty. The bill prominently targets any work which "a reasonable person" would find lacks literary, aesthetic, scientific or political value for minors. The bill does not define the term "reasonable person" in any concrete fashion, nor would we expect it to.

As calculated as this and similar bills tend to be, they are structured to succeed through ambiguity. If the literature went on to elaborate who exactly may be considered a "reasonable" or "average" person, it would drown in its own polemic. The persons the drafters of this bill consider to be reasonable would certainly not include people you or I consider to be reasonable.

To me, a reasonable person would understand that children are subjected to brutal images and harsh realities all the time. A reasonable person would remember that they, too, saw their first porno at thirteen; began watching R-rated movies without parental consent before their seventeenth birthday; witnessed and sometimes participated in deplorable acts committed by other children.

Okay, deep breath. All this talk about subjective ideals and fictional standards of who may be considered reasonable isn't really the problem.

The problem here is the word exposed.

No less than a ten thousand dollar fine is to be charged to "any person who knowingly sells or distributes ... an entertainment product containing material harmful to minors, if a reasonable person would expect a substantial number of minors to be exposed to the material..."

Nowhere in this legislature's rhetoric does it target harmful material disseminated, distributed, or sold to the minor. It is no longer necessary that the minor purchase the material from an adult, only that the minor is in the same vicinity as the material.

And now we see how all of this relates to comics.

The pragmatist in me does not believe this bill will pass. As I said before, it's too ambiguous, too dangerous, and the resulting judicial melée would be staggering. The resultant legal mess that America's entertainment merchants would find themselves in is reason enough to deflate the bill's lofty and morally just ideals.

But the realist in me knows that something very similar to this has already happened.

Jesus Castillo, a comic store manager from Dallas, Texas, was successfully sued and sentenced to 180 days in jail, a year's probation, and a $4,000 fine for selling an adults-only comic to an adult. And this took place two years before HB 4239 even existed.

If anyone's left reading this hateful little diatribe, I am now speaking to all of you, not only the Americans: This bill cannot pass.

The Comic Book Legal Defense Fund exists for a reason, a reason that affects every man, woman and child who reads, sells, or creates comics, be they American, European, Asian or whomever. The CBLDF is here to protect the misunderstood and much-maligned art form that we all love; the art form that would potentially find itself in more jeopardy than any other entertainment media, due to the widespread misapprehension that comics are only for kids.

Join the CBLDF. You should already be a member anyway. If you're American, write your congressman, whom you can find here. Do whatever you can, even if it's only a little, to make sure that HB 4239 does not pass.

We can't abide another Jesus.

AND ON A LIGHTER NOTE...

BLOOD ORANGE #1, published by Fantagraphics, is the first new anthology title I've seen in awhile, and it's about time. Regular anthologies of high quality published by larger companies seem to be a rare occurrence these days, and that's unfortunate.

It's even more unfortunate that BLOOD ORANGE isn't adding to the supply.

Edited by Chris Polkki, BLOOD ORANGE features a smattering of new and upcoming indie/alternative comics talent, from a variety of styles and idioms. As such, and not uncharacteristic of most anthologies, the comic suffers from a lack of cohesion and flow: reading the book from front to back, the stories don't really transition into one another well, and the disparate styles tend to clash frequently.

Which is not to say I think it should be a theme anthology. Actually, I kind of hate theme anthologies.

Individually, there are some very good comics in here. Kevin Huizenga's 'Fight or Run', a seven-page workout in panel dynamics, is one of the more entertaining comics I've read this year. Allison Cole's 'Old Lady', a twelve-panel silent comic, mixes the approach of a minimalist with the aesthetic of an impressionist, and exhibits once again why comics are such a powerful visual medium. And even though I'm not the world's biggest Ron Rege Jr fan, I have to admit his single-page 'The Sublime Realm Between' is probably the strongest piece in the book.

It's in the reader's natural inclination to compare and contrast stories that BLOOD ORANGE fails. Many of the contributions seem grotesquely out of place when juxtaposed against the more effective efforts, resulting in an all-round sense of disappointment.

Still, it's impressive in spots, and the good stories are good enough that I'll probably pick up BLOOD ORANGE #2 and #3 just to see what happens. Like I said, there's a severe lack of quality anthologies from larger publishers these days, and BLOOD ORANGE has, at least, the potential to help fill in the gap.

John Parker lives, works, and writes in Kansas City, Missouri.

Ninth Art endorses the principle of Ideological Freeware. The author permits distribution of this article by private individuals, on condition that the author and source of the article are clearly shown, no charge is made, and the whole article is reproduced intact, including this notice.