I picked up INVADERS CLASSIC, VOLUME 3 to continue my education in Brian Falsworth canon, as described in my last review. Collection INVADERS #22-23 and #25-34 (is #24 cursed?), this collections' stories build upon the good intersectional feminist rapport from volume 2 into something truly awe-inspiring.

Picking up the plot from last issue, Toro is injured and won't wake up. A distraught Jim relates Toro's interesting origin story, but afterwards the group splits. The adult Invaders must rush to Egypt to defend the Allied troops while Bucky volunteers to fly Toro to the United States, where only a one Dr. Sabuki has the skills to dislodge the bullet close to his heart.

After this moment in the comic, I made a lot of "omg they went there" facial expressions. In American re-tellings of WWII, most (usually white) tellers focus in on how we bolstered the war-weary Allied front, freed the Holocaust survivors, and took over the Pacific Theater. It's a very heroic, positive tale, with maybe a sobering And Then We Made The Difficult Choice To Drop The Bomb. Media typically skips over the moral conundrum of why we waited so long to join the fighting; how we imprisoned our own citizens in internment camps; and how those soldiers who liberated the marginalized from European camps went right back home to discriminate, incarcerate, demonize, and sometimes kill the same marginalized.

But not Roy Thomas or his Invaders. When Captain America, Spitfire, Namor, and Human Torch land in Egypt, they don't just fight the Scarlet Scarab and fascists: they also fight colonialism and racism. When Bucky finds Dr. Sabuki and his daughter Gwenny Lou in an internment camp, he is shocked and disgusted that while he's been fighting the Axis in Europe, its evil has been growing at home. With Gwenny Lou (Golden Girl) and newcomer Davy Mitchell (Human Top), Bucky & Toro decide to leave the Invaders and create a new team, the Kid Commandos, to fight the internment ruling and racism.

The collection doesn't end there, and the rest continues to pull its idealogical weight. And it's not all doom and gloom! Punching Teutonic Knight, Thor, and Nazi Frankenstein's Monster reveal how fascism intersects and corrupts religion and science! The anti-war messaging is constant and appreciated! Brian has his second brush with death, but now he is officially super sparky! There's bright colors and accidentally(?) homoerotic artwork. The Destroyer costume gets stolen, and the team immediately knows Roger is in trouble instead of thinking Roger betrayed them! It's great!

In summary, everyone should read INVADERS, and I love them, even Namor. It's the perfect read for this and any day. My only worry is Brian might semi-permanently die soon, but that's a constant worry for Falsworth fans. Follow @MrUnionJack on twitter, vote in all elections, and punch a Nazi.

I first heard of the Invaders through one of their lesser known members: Brian Falsworth aka Union Jack. My partner and I were minding our own business in the Avengers Academy mobile game when Brian showed up, kidnapped by the Black Knight in definitely-not-sparkly-BDSM-rope-that-Dane-got-on-discount-somewhere. The positive queer coding surrounding his character perked our interest, and we nearly dropped our phones when it was confirmed in-game that Brian identifies as gay. In fact, he and his partner Roger are Marvel's first gay characters, according to publication chronology. (For those keeping track, Brian was Avengers Academy's third confirmed LGBT character, after Loki and Janet Van Dyne).

Anyway, I was so excited that I combed through wikis, read/wrote fanfiction, followed the glib and meme-tastic @MrUnionJack on twitter: basically did everything BUT read Brian's comics. Until now. At a certain point, I was nervous that the canon in comic wouldn't live up to my personal hype.

But, readers, it f*cking did.

Collecting INVADERS #10 to #21 and their Annual #1, INVADERS CLASSIC, VOLUME 2 blew my socks off. Easy to pick up in media res, the collection has several arcs, including Steve & Bucky's battle with Reaper's fascist rhetoric; Brian and Roger's introduction & reunion, Jacqueline getting her speedster powers & becoming Spitfire; the destruction of a Warsaw ghetto; an inter-dimensional high-five to the Avengers; Warrior Woman & Master Man's deeply frightening "upgrade." To say this comic was action-packed would be underselling it.

INVADERS first and foremost is a comic book. I found what I expected: our heroes spend a lot of time flying around battlefields and shouting lines mid-kick. The art is stylized, most of the men have the same haircut and jawline, and the more eccentric coloring can be dismissed, if you want to be a coward and not let Bucky have a bright magenta bucket hat. I liked all of this, but what I liked more was what else Thomas used the frame, tropes, and platform of comic book storytelling to do.

Because while INVADERS is a collection of war stories, they are also anti-war, feminist, anti-fascist, and marginalized identity-supportive stories. Thomas takes pains to acknowledge the varied identities of this group, with its Americans, Atlantean, British aristocrats, and Android. The Jews who inhabit the ghetto are heart-wrenching in their plight and inspiring in their bravery. Anyone who underestimates Spitfire because she's a woman receives a trouncing. There are multiple discussions of how moderate people are made into fascist monsters (sometimes literally) and how appeasement doesn't work. The hot garbage mix of toxic masculinity & misogyny in the concept of Master Man/Woman/Race are not played off for laughs, but addressed. In fact, Warrior Woman is almost a tragic figure: she wants to be the ultimate, idealized "master woman of the master race," but even at her all powerful, she is reduced to a walking baby factory.

Honestly, considering a loud yam is president of the USA right now, this year is the perfect year to read the INVADERS, and I recommend it to everyone. If you like G. Willow Wilson's MS. MARVEL and/or Ta-Nehisi Coates' BLACK PANTHER series, you will definitely love Thomas' INVADERS. Read it, love it, and live it. My humble suggestion for living it is to vote in all elections and punch your local Nazis.

As an American who also likes comic books, it has been way up-the-uncanny-valley-without-a-paddle to read the news these past two years. While my favorite comics tend to be social commentaries with diverse casts of characters, this latest volume of Ms. Marvel was an intense roller coaster. Wilson is in no way messing around with this volume's storyline.

It begins with a light-hearted celebration of Eid (which was fascinating for me to learn about since I'm Catholic) and that's pretty much the only happy moment in the book. Chuck Worthy, the HYDRA agent who attempted to gentrify and gerrymander his way to the mayoral office, is back. Through a closed door meeting, he becomes mayor. He immediately implements an emergency task force called Keepers of Integration, Normalization, and Deference (K.I.N.D.) agency to round up illegal superpower folk. They arrest, detain, and jail citizens right off their porches, their neighborhoods, and their homes.

Sound familiar? I was gobsmacked. Forget how the loud yam is literally worse than Lex Luther, DC Comic's evil CEO, because when Lex Luthor became president, he at least gave up his businesses and other assets. In this one storyline, Wilson brings Immigration and Customs Enforcement (I.C.E.) to the containable reality of comic books /and/ comments on the tiny micro-aggressions scrolling through everyone's social media feed. You know the ones: all the people wanting to Keep YA/Facebook "Kind," which usually translates to asking minorities to silently accept their oppression.

I was on the edge of my seat reading this volume. Aamir's monologue on terrorism shook me. Becky's return and the new villain made me want to tear my hair out because what is it about the white identity makes it so we cannot /sit the hell down/ and let the story /not be about us/ (I mean, I know the answer, dominant paradigm and all, but it is so fruSTRATING). Tyesha and Nakia's discussion of the secularization and commercialization of the hijab went mostly over my head, but I appreciated its presence.

Red Dagger returns in the last issue, and he is adorable. I was still emotionally reeling over the expression on Kamala's face (and its similarity to my own) when she realized that her neighbors reported people to not-I.C.E. to properly appreciate Laal Khanjeer, but he is there and it's adorable. I feel like this volume will be a great resource for teens looking to make sense of the topsy turvey, darkest timeline world we live in. These are tough times, but together, we'll make it through.

The tragedy of collecting comics in paperback volumes instead of single issues is I fall perpetually behind. The comedy side is when volumes do come out, I emit noises similar to kids' on a Christmas morning. I was delighted to find DAMAGE PER SECOND on my local bookstore's shelves and bought it outright.

While Civil War II and other Marvel Universe-wide apocalypses took stage in the last volumes, DAMAGE PER SECOND's collection focuses back on Jersey City and its inhabitants. Wilson's writing continues to leave no prisoners in its relevance. Kamala almost breaks the fourth wall with instructions on how to vote and combat gerrymandering. The next villain is an ever-evolving Doc.X virus that reads as an easy cipher for cyberstalking, cyberbullying, and toxic internet culture. Characters deal and heal from such violations of privacy as leaked nudes and being outed without consent. It's no wonder that this series is popular with teens: these are the sorts of things teens live with every day, and hopefully Kamala struggling through will help them.

Kamala's character arc is centered on how her life looks with secrets in a world of TMI internet and without Bruno. It's raw and gutting when she realizes that she has many friends as Kamala, but a diminishing number when she's Ms. Marvel. The last issue is entirely focused on Bruno's adventures in Wakanda and his new identity as a disabled man. T'Challa's cameo made me squee.

Amazing writing, relevant topics, and beautiful art make this series one of the few I will instantly buy if I see it in store. I love Ms. Marvel and recommend it to literally everyone on the planet.

I was browsing through my local bookstore and nearly dROPPED my entire life and soul when I saw Naomi Novik's name in the manga bargain bin. I've read all nine of the Temeraire books cover to cover, including the little author biographies in the back, and none have mentioned that Novik dipped her pen in the superhero shojo manga universe. I pointed at the book and gaped like a fish.

Once I bought the volume, I was pleasantly surprised by the plot. I was expecting a color-by-numbers superheroes at school story, but while some familiar tropes made an appearance, most were complicated or inverted. Our heroine is Leah Taymore, and the first volume follows her (disastrous) first week at Liberty Vocational, a high school dedicated to training the next generation of big-time superheroes. Classes include the usual powers training, the unexpected costume design class, and the absolutely-riveting-I-didn't-realize-I-needed-this-everywhere-until-now superhero ethics class. What do you mean supers are going to think about their actions from the get go?? That's incredible!

For such a short book, heavy themes are discussed. Morality is a big one, especially if sacrificing a few people (or your super self) to save a lot of people is a moral good. In a refreshing turn of events, Leah is already super duper powerful, with the ability to alter things on an atomic level, but the practicality of such a ridiculous power is called into question by the very existence of Paul Lyman. Paul has 0 powers, but reliably saves people, solves problems, and fights villains with much less collateral damage than Leah. Yuzana Myat, Leah's roommate and best friend, is an empath, which sounds cool on paper, but invades the privacy of the heart constantly. Dr. Santos, the headmistress/principal, grapples with the fact that if she doesn't properly prepare her students, they will legit die fighting.

I am a fan of superheroes and a fan of manga, so in no universe was this book going to disappoint me. Novik brings her signature racial diversity to the fore, which about tickled me pink. The art notes in the back are interesting, though they were the source of a disappointment so big that I initially rated the manga 3 stars. While Novik wanted Leah to look like a Czech-Jewish Wonder Woman, the artist demurred because "the only muscular female characters are villains (most of the time there aren't any muscular female in shojo at all!)". Which is a terrible reason, and the only justification I can think of is WILL VILLAINS was produced before TRIGGER HAPPY PANIC's Sakura Ogami graced the English-speaking screen.

My only other complaint is the series seems to have been abandoned, or at least put on indefinite hiatus (maybe because of artistic differences?). WILL SUPERVILLAINS BE ON THE FINAL? is an excellent, well-written romp into superhero high school, with likeable characters and important questions. It's quick too, so if you have a spare half hour, I encourage you to pick it up.

I remember when Bingo Love was on Kickstarter and doing the social media promotion rounds. I figured one day I would have to buy the book if I ever wanted to read it, but the library saves the day again.

A unnamed woman is crying in Hazel's apartment. She says her parents have kicked her out and asks if Hazel can take her in. Hazel says yes and, to comfort the woman, launches into her own love story. On February 10th 1963, Hazel, the dutiful church-going daughter, and Mari, the new girl in town, locked eyes. Just like that, it was over for Hazel. She was in love.

As promised in the blurb, the comic spans the decades of Mari and Hazel's relationship, as they overcome heteronormativity and watch the world grow more accepting of queer love. I mention the frame story of the woman and Hazel because the comic reads just like an elderly grandmother telling a story to a grandchild. Emphasis on told. The comic is rarely allowed to show its character or world. This made for surprisingly bland, awkwardly paced reading.

The reason Bingo Love still has 3 stars is the art. From the linework to the coloring, the art is fantastic. Heartwarming and soft yet firm and certain. Like falling into one's favorite pillow for a well-earned nap. The casual body, race, and ability diversity is wonderful. Where I wasn't affected by the story's words, I was deeply touched by a brushstroke, or the presence of a one-armed character, or Hazel's varied natural hairstyles.

If you're in a mood to not be picky about story and want to treat yourself to some excellent art, pick up Bingo Love.

My local library has a surprisingly marginalized community-centric comic book section, and NO STRAIGHT LINES seemed like a good place to start. The editor, Justin Hill, provides an excellent introduction for his book, and he outlines the goals and limits of the anthology with apologies that he couldn't include more. There are then little essays giving broadstroke overviews of each era of queer comics, providing context and highlighting influential artists and writers. Hill's writing is informative, celebratory, and accessible. I felt satisfied immediately.

Then, I got to main point of the book: the comics. While the front matter had buzzed my little brain cells, the actual comics went right for the heart. The book itself is a hefty one, but it got heavier and heavier as I read. As an art medium, comics bring an immediacy like no other medium does. The characters on the page weren't existing decades ago: they were struggling right before my eyes. I could feel the pulsing weight of their happiness, anxieties, hardships, and triumphs. As a bisexual woman, I emotionally realized the history I was inheriting. It is full of enduring pain and joys snatched right out of the jaws of indifference and homophobic cruelty. Many, many comics centered on the AIDS crisis, and, at some points, I had to put the book down for a breather.

If I had any quibbles, it would be the heavy focus on lesbian and gay comics. Bisexuality is mentioned briefly, and more often than not in a disparaging way. Lots of "lesbian who sleeps with one man" instead of "bisexual with a preference for women." Asexuality is seen exactly once, but not explained by name: the character shouts "I'm nothing!" and is saved from this oh-so-awful fate via genie-granted wish. Intersex people are not mentioned by name, only hinted at via characters who present as genderqueer. In addition, I was expecting more transgender comics. Hill explains in his intro that the transgender comic scene didn't gain popularity until recently, but there were still more L & G comics in the modern comic section. I suppose I'll just Google that all myself.

In his beginning, Hill encourages readers treat the book like a collection of signposts, to use these brief excerpts to find your future favorite comic. Sound advice, though I gave up on the project when I realized I wanted to read all of them. The limits of representation don't keep NO STRAIGHT LINES from being a deeply moving homage to subversive art, and I recommend it to any person who wants to learn more about the queer comic scene and ear-to-the-ground queer history. Despite not being pictured as I would like to be, this book changed me and I love it.

I picked up this book after reading Jill Lepore's THE SECRET HISTORY OF WONDER WOMAN. Margaret Sanger was WW co-creator Olive Byrne's aunt, and Sanger's feminism and activism heavily influenced the series. WOMAN REBEL seemed like a good option for a quick-and-dirty run down of Sanger's life story.

And that's what I basically got. After some garbled professor-speak of an introduction, the actual comic portion illustrates eruptive, formative moments in Sanger's life. While this method of storytelling packs a a lot of life events into a short amount of pages, the plot suffers for it and gives the the impression that Sanger never finished anything, just jumped to the next thing as soon as any project started sinking. I lost sense of who Sanger was as a person. At the end, she seemed more remote than ever, an unflagging, fundraising robot for birth control. It made me more eager than ever to read /her own/ words, to stop learning about her through somebody else's lens.

Bagge includes a biographic timeline of Sanger's life in the back matter, and in some senses it feels like I should have read this first. The timeline is much more comprehensive than the comic, with Sanger's relationships and how various projects ended more clearly outlined. Bagge also pauses to explain his own relationship with Sanger and why he decided to illustrate her adventures, which was illuminating and inspiring. I have no idea why it's hidden in the back.

Overall, I got what I came for: I know more about the chaotic whirlwind of Sanger's life, have a better feeling for the immense, herculean task birth control accessibility is, and am inspired to read Sanger's work. I would recommend WOMAN REBEL to anyone who wants to know more about the birth control/feminist movement, but to play with reading order. Skip the introduction, read Bagge's back matter, AND THEN read the comic. You're going to have a better experience that way.