Before Watchmen: The beautiful brutality of Rorschach

I'm not sure if there was any particular reason why DC didn't include Rorschach in their first wave of Before Watchmen comics. He is the most popular character from this batch — especially after the Zack Snyder movie. Maybe DC was banking on Rorschach's popularity to renew interest in this project two months in. Whatever the reason may be, we're finally starting the four-issue miniseries by Brian Azzarello and Lee Bermejo.

This cover by Bermejo is stunningly beautiful. I think almost any other artist would make me roll my eyes at the prospect of a Rorschach within a Rorschach within a Rorschach. But Bermejo's brutally realistic style pulls off this gimmick perfectly. I suppose if you have enough sincerity and skill, you can turn an otherwise silly gimmick into a work of art.

Jim Steranko certainly tried to make his variant a work of art. But ... it just doesn't work for me. The Before Watchmen logo unfortunately obscures the crumbling Doomsday Clock and I think he went too far with the dogs. Rorschach provides so many fun artistic opportunities, and I don't think Steranko took advantage of them.

Jim Lee also didn't take advantage of Rorschach's artistic opportunities. The inkblots on Rorschach's mask are bizarrely thin and straight. They look like little cuts and slashes in a pure white mask. It's almost like Lee has never read Watchmen and doesn't understand Rorschach at all.

One of the stranger choices with this comic was the decision to have Rorschach's journal be typed on a typewriter instead of handwritten. Maybe they thought letterer Rob Leigh wouldn't be able to replicate Dave Gibbons' handwriting? They also clumsily tried to insert a few errors to make it look like a realistic typewritten journal, but Azzarello and company aren't nearly as skilled at this as Alan Moore was. There aren't enough mistakes in the text and they all seem to be the same mistake — misspelling the word "what."

Anyway, this story takes place in 1977, which is an interesting era to explore. Nite Owl, Silk Spectre and Ozymandias have retired, and Dr. Manhattan and the Comedian are working for the United States government. Rorschach is bitterly waging his one-man war against the underbelly of New York. After he recounts a tale of receiving frostbite as a child (due to him avoiding his prostitute mother), Rorschach violently assaults a man masturbating in an adult movie store. The man is apparently a drug dealer and Rorschach breaks his arm to find out where the drugs are.

The dealer says his supplier uses a secret tunnel in the sewers, and Rorschach spends the next five days wading through sewage before he learns too late that he has fallen into an elaborate trap. Rorschach is jumped by a gang and comes face-to-face with their leader, a large man covered in scars, who only introduces himself as "Crime." He belittles Rorschach, then forbids his men from removing his mask, saying, "the mask makes the corpse." 

Oddly, this "Crime" fellow chooses to not kill Rorschach, merely settling for beating him up real good and walking away. Rorschach crawls out of the sewers and breaks into a drug store to steal some medicine. In the morning, he visits a diner as Walter Kovacs and tells the waitress he was mugged. Walter is oddly talkative as he reads the newspaper's account of a murderer known as "The Bard," who has killed another woman and carved a cryptic message into her corpse. (This is being investigated by the two underutilized detectives who opened Watchmen #1.)

I'm glad this wasn't merely a rehashing of Rorschach's origin — Moore gave us enough of that in the main series. This is just a nice adventure from that overlooked decade in the Watchmen chronology. I especially like how Rorschach fell so easily into that trap. He's not a good detective and Azzarello knows that. Bermejo's art is perfect for a comic that seeks to turn up the violence to 11. But I find myself worrying that this art might be too perfect. The biggest problem with Rorschach is that he's supposed to be a repulsive character, warning the audience of how dangerous and unhinged vigilante superheroes can become. But too many people just see him as this cool tough guy who doesn't play by the rules and gets results. Zack Snyder unfortunately made Rorschach look as cool as possible. And Bermejo and Azzarello are in danger of doing that, too.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1991

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 26, 1991 – Felt Forum, New York City

Previous season:

Bolstered by the addition of Jeff Malone, Utah went 54-28 in 1990-91 and reached the second round of the playoffs. The Jazz were crushed by Portland in five games, perhaps because their truly dreadful bench forced them to rely too much on the aging Mark Eaton and Thurl Bailey.

The draft:

With the 21st pick, the Jazz drafted Providence point guard Eric Murdock.

Utah then used the 48th pick on a center from Arizona State named Isaac Austin.

Analysis:

The Jazz front office was very excited to nab Murdock. He was the all-time NCAA career steals leader, and assistant coach Gordon Chiesa had briefly coached him at Providence. But Murdock played sparingly for Utah, only appearing in 50 games in his rookie season before he was traded to Milwaukee alongside Blue Edwards and a first-round pick. I get that the Jazz shifted to a win-now mentality after reaching the Western Conference Finals, but it still astounds me that they so willingly parted with a rookie and a first-round pick just to get rid of Edwards. Anyway, Murdock flourished with the Bucks. He was immediately named the started and finished second in voting for Most Improved Player of the Year (losing to Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf). Murdock had a couple of good years for Milwaukee until he sustained an eye injury that he never seemed to fully recover from. Still, he lasted nine years in the NBA as a solid backup point guard.

I think the Jazz gave up too soon on Murdock. However, I think they could have drafted someone better who would have made a bigger impact right away — Rick Fox. He had a 13-year career split between the Celtics and Lakers, shining especially during L.A.'s three-peat of the early 2000s. He was a pretty good defender, but was mostly known for his shooting, which would have helped Utah tremendously.

Austin, much like Luther Wright, was a big man who struggled with his weight. The Jazz apparently put incentives in his contract to stay down at 275 pounds, but he rarely hit that mark and didn't get much playing time before Utah finally cut him after two unproductive years. But the best part of his stint with the Jazz was Karl Malone. The two became close friends and Malone personally helped Austin lose 40 pounds in 40 days after he fell out of the NBA with a weight of 340 pounds. In 1996, Austin signed with Miami, ending his two seasons abroad. To the surprise of everyone, Austin was in terrific shape and finally living up to his potential. He was named Most Improved Player of the Year and enjoyed three more very solid seasons in the NBA before eventually slowing down and petering out in 2002. Curiously, he never lasted longer than two years anywhere, even during his peak.

It is nice that Karl Malone helped Austin turn his career around, but that came too late to help the Jazz. So I'm going to suggest Utah draft someone else. Since I passed on Murdock, I'll take a different point guard — Darrell Armstrong. He started his career in the minor leagues and slowly worked his way up the Orlando depth chart. Armstrong had a breakout year in 1999, winning both the Most Improved Player and Sixth Man of the Year trophies. A fierce defender and solid shooter, I think he would have excelled for the Jazz (as long as they don't get impatient and trade him away too soon).

My advice:

1. Use the 21st pick on Rick Fox.

2. Use the 48th pick on Darrell Armstrong.

I'm sad I wasn't able to find a good big man for the Jazz this year, but I think Fox and Armstrong would have been great additions. I suppose I should also note that Utah signed undrafted rookie David Benoit during the 1991 offseason. He became a fairly important player for the Jazz until he tore his Achilles in 1996. He wasn't bad, but he wasn't great, either. I think Fox would have been a substantial upgrade.

Before Watchmen: Ozymandias quickly moves on

I think one of the appeals of Before Watchmen for many creators was the chance to do things that they'd never be able to get away with on an ordinary DC book. This cover is a prime example of that. It goes a bit too far for my personal tastes. Plus, it's incredibly misleading. Nothing remotely like this happens in this issue. We do see several women almost dressed like this, sort of. But that's where the similarities end.

I love this Phil Noto variant. It's an ad for Veidt Industries that showcases his charismatic, flamboyant CEO side, while simultaneously drawing allusions to his bisexuality. It's a simple, neat and tidy cover that manages to be sexual without resorting to the base overtness of Jae Lee's.

Our story resumes on Oct. 11, 1985, with Adrian resuming the recording of his autobiography while exercising with Bubastis. Last issue, he told us that dirty drugs killed his girlfriend, which I took to mean that the drugs had been tainted somehow. But this issue, Adrian describes her death merely as an accidental overdose. I guess the word "dirty" was just a generic descriptor.

Adrian recounts how it took four days for him to learn where those drugs came from, and Len Wein goes into intricate — exceedingly boring — detail about Ozymandias interrogating random thugs and trailing others through the streets and eavesdropping on conversations in fancy clubs. It gets rather exhausting. One note of minor interest, though, is the complete lack of Moloch in this issue, despite his rather imposing presence in Ozymandias #1. All we get of him here, is a brief mention in passing about how he's taken an "extended vacation." And Ozymandias oddly seems content with apprehending the drug dealers allegedly working beneath Moloch and leaving it at that.

The climax of this issue is Ozymandias' raid on the drug dealers' warehouse. This is also, unfortunately, the part where Lee's artwork hurts the story the most. For starters, the man in charge of the operation is described as "a grotesquely fat man in a pristine suit." But we never actually see his fat body or his suit — just oblique shadows from a distance and the occasional uncomfortable close-ups. Is Lee just really bad at drawing fat people and decided to hide it as much as he could?

Even worse, though, is Lee's inability to stage a satisfying action sequence. He tried something unique with a two-page spread of a small, black silhouette of Ozymandias flipping around against a yellow background. But I found it underwhelming. It certainly didn't help matters that Wein oddly decided to have Ozymandias toss his headband around like Wonder Woman's tiara. Apart from that one spread, it really felt like Lee was doing everything he could to avoid having to actually draw the main character in motion. This is bad for any comic book, but it's especially heartbreaking for Ozymandias. His fight scenes in the original series were the most breathtaking, fluid and beautiful sequences of action Dave Gibbons could provide. What a shame that we ended up with perhaps the absolute worst artist for this miniseries.

And Wein's not off the hook, either. He's now fully moved on past the massive monologues of Alan Moore, and it shows. Some of his dialogue is either accidentally bad, or is intentionally so in order to make us doubt Adrian's reliability as a narrator. For example, Adrian recounts how time "literally stopped" right before he took on the drug dealers. Not figuratively — literally. Look, I know Ozymandias has near-superhuman abilities, but he's not that good. He can't actually freeze time! Right?

Anyway, that one outing was apparently enough to satisfy Adrian's need to avenge the death of his girlfriend, and he quickly moves on to the fun and thrilling life of a costumed vigilante. After taking down a handful of random, gimmicky criminals, Adrian begins to consider the long-term effects of this lifestyle. This prompts him to investigate the history of the Minutemen, and he's instantly drawn to the mystery of Hooded Justice's disappearance. He eventually investigates the pier where the Hooded Justice was last seen, but he's promptly attacked by the Comedian.

Well, it sure was nice of Wein to give Adrian a girlfriend so she could immediately be killed and forgot about even quicker. This whole issue was such an enormous letdown — so much potential just flushed down the toilet. With the exception of Minutemen #2, all the second issues of this first wave were a disappointment. I'm not sure how that happened. Was it because all these writers really didn't have enough story for a full miniseries?

Redrafting the Jazz: 1992

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 24, 1992 – Memorial Coliseum, Portland, Oregon

Previous season:

The Jazz got off to a slightly rocky start to the 1991-92 season. They were 7-6 until they abruptly traded longtime sixth man Thurl Bailey and their 1992 second-round pick to Minnesota for Tyrone Corbin. That turned out to be exactly what Utah needed, as Bailey was on the decline and Corbin was still in his prime. The Jazz finished the season at 55-27 and, more importantly, reached the Western Conference Finals for the first time in franchise history. Utah ultimately lost to Portland in six games, and the Blazers went on to lose to Chicago in six games, as well. But still, it was a massive achievement for the Jazz, and general manager Scott Layden wanted to build on this momentum and maximize the sweet prime years of John Stockton and Karl Malone.

The draft:

Layden pulled off another surprising trade, this time on Draft Day, sending the 23rd pick, Blue Edwards and Eric Murdock to Milwaukee for Jay Humphries and Larry Krystkowiak. The Bucks used the pick on Lee Mayberry.

Utah's second-round pick ended up being No. 51, which the Timberwolves used on Tim Burroughs. Layden didn't try to acquire any other picks for this draft, making this the first year during my witch's curse where the Jazz didn't actually draft someone. But I think I can change that.

Analysis:

Due to the nature of the curse, I'm unable to prevent the Bailey-Corbin trade from happening. (And I probably wouldn't stop it even if I could. It just made too much sense.) However, I think I can stop the Edwards-Humphries trade. It really was quite baffling that Utah made that deal in the first place. Edwards was a fan favorite who excelled at dunking and defending. He started 81 games at small forward, but he was a bit undersized at 6-foot-4. However, his relationship with coach Jerry Sloan deteriorated by the end of the season and Edwards lost his starting job in the playoffs to rookie David Benoit. So maybe moving him was ultimately in the best interests of the team.

However, I don't think Layden made the right trade by a long shot. It is understandable to want veteran backups for Stockton and Malone, but Humphries and Krystkowiak really didn't deliver. Krystkowiak only spent one mediocre season in Utah, while Humphries limped along for two and a half years before being traded for — get this — Blue Edwards! That was completely Utah's way of acknowledging that they messed up this trade. And we can't forget Eric Murdock, either. The rookie point guard actually went on to have a fairly decent career, finishing second in Most Improved Player voting in his first season out of Utah. So yeah, I'm killing that trade and keeping the 23rd pick.

The Jazz didn't miss anything with Mayberry. He had a quiet six-year career as a permanent backup on some pretty bad Milwaukee and Vancouver teams. The guy drafted right after Mayberry did turn out to be an All-Star, but I don't think Latrell Sprewell would have done too well in Utah. In fact, I'd say there's a good chance Sloan would have straight-up murdered Sprewell with his bare hands. So instead, I'm going to go with a much calmer individual with P.J. Brown. And I'm not doing that just because he won both the Citizenship Award and Sportsmanship Award. He was named to the All-Defensive Second Team three times in his 15-year career and would have helped fill the void left by Thurl Bailey (albeit with less offensive prowess).

My advice:

1. Keep the 23rd pick and use it on P.J. Brown.

I don't know if I would have traded Blue Edwards. But I certainly know I wouldn't have traded him away with a promising rookie AND a first-round pick for two washed-up veterans who would just come off the bench. I appreciate the win-now mentality, but you can't completely forsake the future. I think P.J. Brown could have done quite well in Utah.

Before Watchmen: In the shadows of Rorschach

I surprised myself by having some kind words for the cover of Nite Owl #1. But I genuinely appreciated how the image looked cool like Batman at first glance, but then became rather silly the more you examined it. The same can be said for this joint pose of Nite Owl and Rorschach. You might initially think this was a neat, brooding cover, but if you look closer, you'll see just how awkward and unnatural both the characters are. And I think — at least I hope — that this was intentional. As the story will soon reveal, that whip actually belonged to a prostitute. I don't want to get too graphic here, but it looks like Nite Owl is getting a bit aroused by this and Rorschach is acting really stiff and uncomfortable. Maybe that's just me reading too much into it, but that's what I see. I also don't think it's a coincidence that Rorschach is looming over Nite Owl here. I'll get more into that later.

David Finch's variant doesn't do much for me. It's quite stiff and dull. I suppose Nite Owl's control stick is rather phallic, which would fit in more with this story's sexual nature. But I don't think Rorschach is making the right pose if that's what Finch was going for. Rorschach appears quite relaxed and even approving, which doesn't work for this potentially sexual innuendo. Neither does Nite Owl's expression. Maybe if he looked a little bit happier? Oh well, let's move on.

Our story begins with Nite Owl and Rorschach chasing a couple of criminals down an alleyway. The criminals split up, giving Rorschach a chance to comment on Nite Owl's left-leaning politics. Rorschach pursues his criminal to the right, while Nite Owl heads left. To his surprise, this takes him into a room where a nude prostitute has been working with a bound-and-gagged client. Equally surprising was how the prostitute knocked out the criminal cold.

She can tell Nite Owl is attracted to her, so she begins playfully flirting with him until Rorschach enters the room. He immediately calls her a whore and tries to attack the woman. Nite Owl defends her, actually throwing Rorschach across the room to get him to stop. He tries to apologize to his partner, but Rorschach brushes him off and leaves with the insinuation that Nite Owl will soon be one of the prostitute's clients.

The comic then takes an unexpected detour in Rorschach's life. He plops down in front of the TV, eating cold beans straight out of the can. A commercial for bras disturbs him, reminding him of his mother forcing him out of their apartment while she worked as a prostitute. And, yes, even as a child, he ate cold beans straight from the can. 

Deep sigh!

I really hate it when writers make too big a deal out of something inconsequential — especially when they're inflating a detail from someone else's work. I had thought that Alan Moore was merely showing us Rorschach eating the beans because he was too hungry and insane to worry about comfort or hygiene. But that wasn't good enough for J. Michael Straczynski. No, the cans of beans needed a special significance. They remind Rorschach of his tortured childhood, a kind of perverse form of comfort food. OK, now that I'm done rolling my eyes, we can get back to the story.

Dan visits Hollis, who tells him the woman he met is actually the Twilight Lady, and he warns Dan to stay far away from her to preserve Nite Owl's reputation as a kid-friendly hero. Hollis bitterly says that you can't do anything "that might make you realize that an awful lot of your life was just a lie."

The next night, Rorschach doesn't join Nite Owl on patrol, as Walter Kovacs is attending a church meeting. The pastor likes to wave around a big sign that says "The End is Nigh" because, you know, there's no possible way for Rorschach to have come up with that sign all by himself. Anyway, the pastor's message is to "get louder" to compete with the sins of the world, and it resonates strongly with Walter, inspiring him to resume his activities as Rorschach.

He follows Nite Owl to the scene of a homicide. The police officer present is surprised to see Nite Owl there, as the victim was allegedly a prostitute. But Nite Owl takes a special interest in this case, as the victim's old bruises remind him of his mother being frequently beaten by her husband. Nite Owl quickly becomes irritated by the lack of concern shown by both the police officer and the landlord. Rorschach walks in, saying their attitude is unfortunately too common in cases like this. He shares the story of Kitty Genovese, the woman who was allegedly attacked for over an hour in front of 38 neighbors, who refused to call the police.

Rorschach's story fails to change the attitudes of the cop or the landlord, so Rorschach and Nite Owl leave the apartment. They quickly reconcile and Rorschach claims the Genovese story was what inspired him to become a superhero (a claim that would later be debunked by Malcolm Long).

We then get an extended flashback of Dan as a child. Apparently he got beaten up on a near-daily basis by schoolyard bullies because ... I don't know, he was a dweeb? Anyway, Dan's father was infuriated by his weakling son constantly being beaten, so Dan's mom taught him how to conceal his bruises with makeup and, more importantly, how to psychologically distance himself from the pain. She tells him to find something special to hold onto, a place deep inside himself where nobody can hurt him. Inspired by the news reports about Nite Owl, Dan bought a 50-cent mask and wore it to confront his bullies. They still beat the snot out of him, but now he's gained a sort of moral victory by refusing to outright surrender to them. I guess.

And then we bizarrely get a separate flashback of young Dan telling his mom one night that he overheard her and his dad talking about how they only got married because she was pregnant and there was a "disagreement" over what to do with the baby. But Dan couldn't tell which parent wanted to keep him, so he asked his mom point-blank who it was. She refuses to answer, only saying "it doesn't matter anymore."

We finally cut back to the present, where Nite Owl is remembering those words from his mom and the police officer saying "one more dead slut doesn't matter." He vows to himself that it does matter, so he pays a visit to the Twilight Lady.

Ugh!

Straczynski is driving me crazy! He clearly wishes he could have been writing a Rorschach comic instead. And I don't blame him — Rorschach is a much more compelling character than Nite Owl. But this is the one and only comic book miniseries dedicated to Nite Owl's origins, and Straczynski should have embraced the unique aspects of Nite Owl's character. Instead, he decided to make Nite Owl a watered-down version of Rorschach, complete with his own harrowing childhood overflowing with unnecessary melodrama. And when Straczynski wasn't doing that, he was sloppily retreading Rorschach's origin. I can't believe that the editors didn't step in and say, "Hey, leave the Rorschach stuff for Brian Azzarello — he's handling that miniseries."

Redrafting the Jazz: 1993

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 30, 1993 – The Palace of Auburn Hills, Auburn Hills, Michigan

Previous season:

John Stockton and Karl Malone were insanely good at this time period. Both were members of the Dream Team of the 1992 Olympics and were fittingly crowned co-All-Star Game MVPs in Salt Lake City in 1993. Unfortunately, their supporting cast wasn't too great. The Jazz had to rely too much on Jeff Malone, Tyrone Corbin, and Jay Humphries. General manager Scott Layden would eventually upgrade each of those players through trades, but that would take a while. In the meantime, Utah's biggest weakness was at center. Longtime stalwart Mark Eaton had finally reached the end of his career and his primary backup, Mike Brown, was equally ineffective. As such, the Jazz went 47-35 in 1992-93 and were knocked out of the first round of the playoffs by Seattle in five games.

The draft:

Utah used the 18th pick on a center from Seton Hall named Luther Wright.

With the 45th pick, the Jazz drafted Bryon Russell, a small forward from Long Beach State.

Analysis:

Wright was one of the most disappointing draft picks in Jazz history. He showed up to training camp 55 pounds above his listed playing weight and only appeared in 15 during the 1993-94 season. In January 1994, he was found by the police at a truck stop at 4 a.m., smashing car windows and banging on trash cans. He was sent to a mental institution, diagnosed with bipolar disorder and his NBA career came to a tragically short end. To their credit, the Jazz agreed to pay out the remainder of his $5 million in small installments over the next 25 years. Unfortunately, that money didn't actually help Wright. He wasted much of it on drugs and spent several stints living homeless, contracting diseases that required him to have toes amputated. All in all, a very, very sad story. I almost feel bad recommending the Jazz draft someone else, but it's not their job to help someone like this. And they were poorly equipped to helping him anyway. There's no way to prevent the tragedy of Luther Wright.

Replacing Wright was surprisingly difficult for me. I have two All-Star point guards available to me — Sam Cassell and Nick Van Exel. Stockton didn't need an incredible backup and it's far too soon to start thinking about a replacement for him. But Cassell really tempts me because I think he could have thrived in that Humphries role of backing up Stockton and occasionally starting alongside him in smaller lineups. It certainly is an intriguing prospect, but I just can't bring myself to pull the trigger on it. The Jazz desperately needed a center. This is the '90s, where the only teams that won either had a dominant center (like Hakeem Olajuwon) or a halfway decent center (like Bill Cartwright). I can't risk messing up Stockton and Malone's prime with wild experiments — I have to take the sure thing, no matter how boring it is. And that pick is Ervin Johnson. He played 13 years in the NBA and was a fairly decent rebounder and shot-blocker. Definitely not a flashy player by any means, but seemly dependable and reliable enough to solidify Utah's biggest weakness in their lineup.

Utah's second-round pick, however, was a lot easier for me. Russell was one of the best picks in Jazz history. He filled an immediate need during his rookie season, and just a couple of years later became an indispensable member of the team. It really is hard imagining the late-90s Jazz without Russell. Granted, I always wished he could have been just a little bit better, but beggars can't be choosers this late in the draft. There's no one better available, so for better and worse, I'm sticking with High-Flyin' Bryon.

My advice:

1. Use the 18th pick on Ervin Johnson.

2. Use the 45th pick on Bryon Russell.

I'm still debating picking Johnson over Cassell. Part of me says I should just draft the best player available and let Layden work it all out through trades. But trades can be fickle things and I want to maximize the potential of two Dream Teamers in their prime. Sadly, I'll never know if playing it safe was the right call. I'm being pulled back to 1992, where I get to do this all over again.

Before Watchmen: Time for a Vietnam comic

J.G. Jones really is a terrific cover artist, and I unabashedly love this one. Some people might think it's cheesy to have the blood trail perfectly in the shape of Vietnam, but it works for me. Vietnam was one of the darker chapter in the Comedian's life, and perhaps his biggest regret. During his drunken confessional with Moloch, Eddie Blake hinted at even worse deeds he committed than killing the woman pregnant with his child. So this cover actually gets me excited to explore this era.

Tim Bradstreet's variant is an even more beautiful work of art. I love the black-and-white on yellow. It's edgy and moody and grabs my attention right away. True, it doesn't give any indication of what the story inside is going to be about, but that's not the purpose of a variant cover. An odd, but intriguing choice is swapping out the Comedian's trademark smiley face button for Dr. Manhattan's symbol. There is potential for an interesting story there — perhaps Eddie was originally a fan of Dr. Manhattan, only to learn the hard way just how devoid of empathy the world's most powerful being is. Sadly, that story is not in this issue.

Looking for an excuse to throw in more real-life celebrity cameos, Brian Azzarello opens this issue at the boxing match between Sonny Liston and Cassius Clay (later to be known as Muhammad Ali). Eddie has ringside tickets with Robert Kennedy, who has oddly chosen this extremely public and noisy setting to discuss his upcoming Senate run. Eddie tells Robert he's been asked to go to Vietnam, but Robert advises him to avoid it.

Naturally, Eddie ignores his friend's advice and gleefully starts butchering enemy troops as soon as he gets the chance. Azzarello then diverts into a lengthy, generic Vietnam War tale that really doesn't seem to have anything to do with the Comedian or Watchmen at all. We're introduced to a handful of commanding officers who are frustrated by their lack of resources. They realize the only way to win this conflict is to enlist the aid of local sympathizers, but they need some cash to actually arm those locals. So they enlist the aid of a drug dealer, helping him sell drugs to America, which in turn funds their off-the-books war activities.

It's all ... fine, I guess. If you're in the mood for a comic about Vietnam. But that's not what I was looking for. I wanted a story about the Comedian, taking place in the unique universe of Watchmen. There's absolutely nothing in this story that couldn't have happened in any other story or movie about the Vietnam War. There's nothing the Comedian does that couldn't have been done by any other run-of-the-mill anti-hero who plays by his own rules.

I'm fine if Azzarello and Jones wanted to make a comic like this. But that should have been a separate series under the Vertigo label — not disguised as a Watchmen comic. This issue is not only disappointing, but it's a little insulting.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1994

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 29, 1994 – Hoosier Dome, Indianapolis

Previous season:

The Jazz went 53-29 in 1993-94, but by far the most significant moment of the season came at the trade deadline. Utah traded Jeff Malone and a first-round pick to Philadelphia for Jeff Hornacek, Sean Green (who was waived after playing just one minute for the Jazz) and a second-round pick (which was later packaged in a trade for Blue Edwards). This was one of those rare franchise-altering trades. Hornacek proved to be the perfect compliment to John Stockton and Karl Malone, not only in skillset, but also in temperament and attitude. He really was the missing piece that helped lead Utah to the Finals ... eventually. The Jazz did reach the Western Conference Finals in 1994 — mostly due to Denver having dramatically upset the league-leading Sonics in the first round. Utah was crushed by the eventual champion Rockets in five games.

The draft:

Due to to the aforementioned Hornacek trade, Utah didn't have a first-round pick. Philadelphia used the 20th pick on B.J. Tyler, whose career bizarrely ended after just one year because he apparently fell asleep with an ice pack on his ankle, which caused him severe nerve damage.

The Jazz did have their second-round pick (No. 47), which they used on a small forward from South Carolina named Jamie Watson.

Analysis:

Utah certainly had a weakness at small forward, splitting time between Tyrone Corbin, David Benoit and a young Bryon Russell. But Watson didn't really help much. He played sparingly for the Jazz for two-and-a-half seasons before being waived. He tried to revitalize his NBA career with Dallas and Miami, but it just didn't work out. Unfortunately, there aren't many decent options for me here. My best recommendation is point guard Anthony Goldwire. He was constantly in and out of the league — ultimately playing 266 games for nine different teams, interspersed with trips to Spain, Greece and Italy. But he seemed to be a fairly decent shooter and, I don't know, he might have been a halfway decent third-string point guard for the Jazz.

My advice:

1. Use the 47th pick on Anthony Goldwire.

Some years, there's just really nothing I can do to help. That's the limitations of my witch's curse. So I'll just shrug my shoulders and start preparing for 1993.

Before Watchmen: The sex, drugs and rock 'n roll of Silk Spectre

Once again, I'm a bit underwhelmed by Amanda Conner's cover. It's funny that her covers are done in such a different style from her interior artwork. I'm not the biggest fan of that, either, but at least it's clean and consistent. This symbolic, slightly psychedelic look doesn't work for me.

The variant cover by Josh Middleton is more successful, in my opinion. Despite its simplicity, it is rather hypnotic and quite erotic. So erotic, in fact, that I'm actually surprised DC allowed this to print. I'm glad they did, though, because this perfectly fits in with the more taboo themes of this comic.

This issue is narrated by Laurie writing a letter to Hollis Mason, whom she affectionately refers to as her "uncle." I'm a little surprised she has such a close relationship with him, especially since Sally went to great lengths to keep Laurie away from Hollis' tell-all book. I guess Conner and Darwyn Cooke really needed Laurie to have a parental figure through which she could indirectly tell her mom she's alright.

Anyway, Laurie and Greg have moved into a large, rundown home in San Francisco with a bunch of hippies. They both got small jobs, but mostly spend their time having sex and experimenting with art, music and drugs. Laurie loves her new life so much, that she feels compelled to protect it. Reports of violence against some of her fellow hippies inspires Laurie to suit up as Silk Spectre. She battles a knockoff Royal Flush gang and learns that their leader's name is Gurustein.

Unfortunately, Gurustein's master plan is pretty convoluted and silly. At a secret meeting with several top music groups of the '60s — including the Beatles and Rolling Stones — an angry, uptight businessman complains about declining album sales and blames it entirely on hippie culture. So he introduces a scientist named Mr. Owsley, who has developed a liquid that when combined with LSD will give people a strong subconscious desire to buy and consume whenever they hear stereotypical hippie words like peace, love and groovy.

I really have no idea why any of these bands needed to be brought in on this scheme. Couldn't the record label just start distributing this low-key mind control bug on its own? And for that matter, I don't see the purpose of this angry businessman in a suit and tie ranting about hippies. I guess Cooke and Conner really wanted a character to fit that mold, even if he doesn't necessarily advance the plot. In fact, he doesn't even have a name. That's right — Gurustein is actually this guy's boss. But he dresses like a hippie, which enables him to mingle with the youth at parties and personally distribute the drugs ... which were developed by that Owsley character, another guy who probably wasn't completely necessary for this story.

These needless complications thrown into a Saturday-morning villain's plot really bring down this issue. As do the cliché henchmen Silk Spectre has to fight. After the wannabe Royal Flush gang, she next battles a couple of knock-offs straight from Charlie's Angels. But I really do like how Laurie is written here. Instead of becoming lost in her unbridled freedom, she has very quickly learned how to be responsible. She's in a unique position to not only care for her friends when they overdose, but also investigate the forces that are exploiting and killing her friends.

I also appreciated how there were fewer daydreams in this issue. That could be a sign of Laurie starting to grow up, or it could just be Conner saving the really wacky stuff until next issue. This one ended on the cliffhanger of Laurie unwittingly consuming the laced LSD while Greg introduces her to his new friend, Gurustein.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1995

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 28, 1995 – SkyDome, Toronto, Ontario

Previous season:

The 1994-95 season could have — and probably should have — been a magical year for the Jazz. Karl Malone and John Stockton were both on the All-NBA First Team. Jeff Hornacek played terrifically in his first full season in Utah. And new additions Adam Keefe and Antoine Carr proved to be just what the Jazz needed. For the first time in franchise history, Utah won 60 games in the regular season, bested only by San Antonio's 62 wins. However, Utah was stunned in the first round of the playoffs, losing to Houston in five games (of a best-of-five series). The Rockets went on to win the championship, but that was little consolation for the Jazz. But on the bright side, the solution to Utah's problems seemed like a relatively easy fix for general manager Scott Layden. The Jazz began the season with Felton Spencer at center, and he was actually playing the best basketball of his career ... until he tore his Achilles tendon. That forced Utah to go to war against Hakeem Olajuwon with 37-year-old James Donaldson. He had been an All-Star once before — back in 1988 — but by 1995, he was literally out of the league until the Jazz begged him to come back. It should be no surprise that he was quite awful and the most gaping hole on an otherwise powerful roster.

The draft:

With the 28th pick, Utah drafted a center from Kansas named Greg Ostertag.

In 1994, the Jazz traded their second-round pick with Tyrone Corbin for Keefe. Atlanta used the 57th pick on Cuonzo Martin, who only played in seven NBA games. (That was a good trade for the Jazz.)

Analysis:

Ostertag was easily one of the most frustrating players in Jazz history. And that's mainly because everyone knew he had it in him to be much better than he often played. Ostertag quickly filled Utah's void at center, becoming the starter in his second season. He played incredibly well during Utah's first trip to the Finals, notably holding his own against Houston's Olajuwon — the same Olajuwon who chewed up the Jazz in the first round and spit them out just two years earlier. I don't think it's an exaggeration to say Utah wouldn't have reached the Finals without Ostertag.

Unfortunately, that sophomore showing proved to be the best Ostertag ever got. After his rookie contract expired, Jazz owner Larry H. Miller excitedly signed him to a massive $39 million, six-year contract. When Utah later signed Olden Polynice, Ostertag temporarily switched his jersey number from 00 to 39 so Polynice could continue wearing number 0 as he had throughout his entire NBA career. But now I'm wondering if Ostertag chose number 39 just to troll the Jazz. That contract made him untradeable, and he spent nine consecutive seasons in Utah, frequently showing up out of shape and disinterested in improving his game. But every now and then, he'd play out of his mind, tantalizing Jazz fans with glimpses of what could have been.

After his contract finally expired, Ostertag signed with Sacramento. He played just one season with the Kings before they sent him back to Utah in that obnoxious five-team trade. Ostertag announced his retirement before the final game of the 2005-06 season, and he reportedly received a standing ovation from the crowd. Perhaps some people were happy just to see the Ostertag era finally come to an end. But I think most of them felt like I did — thankful for the good he gave to the team in spite of all the frustrations and missed opportunities. He was oddly a stabilizing influence on the rebuilding Jazz after Stockton and Malone left, and it was kind of nice to have him come back for one last year.

But should the Jazz have drafted him? Well ... yeah. I know, I know! I'm giving Jazz fans a solid decade of headaches! But he was by far the best option available at No. 28 in this draft. Utah desperately needed a center, and they certainly weren't going to get one in free agency. And you can't really count on trades, either — just look at the Rony Seikaly fiasco. So, I'm sorry, but it has to be Ostertag.

My advice:

1. Use the 28th pick on Greg Ostertag.

I think maybe, just maybe, if I convinced Miller to resist the temptation to give Ostertag a six-year deal, then he might stay motivated and make sure he arrived in training camp in shape each year. He never needed to be a fitness nut like Stockton and Malone, but if he just could have kept his weight down, things might have been very different. Of course, this plan could have easily backfired, too. If Miller wouldn't give Ostertag the big bucks, then maybe someone else would have. But honestly, I'm OK with that. If Ostertag's entire legacy with the Jazz was just what he did during his rookie contract (like Shandon Anderson), then that would have been good enough for me.

Before Watchmen: The Colorful Minutemen

Interestingly, DC decided to stagger their Before Watchmen books a little bit, but only for two main titles — Rorschach and Dr. Manhattan. (Moloch and Dollar Bill were last-minute additions made in response to the project's success.) Since I'm reviewing these books in publication order, I'm coming back to the Minutemen.

Once again, we're treated to a snazzy cover by Darwyn Cooke, this time featuring the young Comedian. I'm not exactly sure what's up with that yellow liquidy blob, though. At first glance, I thought it was an artistic representation of blood. But then I realized the blood on the Comedian's bat and arm is red like normal. So maybe that splotch of yellow is beer being spilt? Just a bit strange. Another nitpick: the Comedian doesn't do too much in this issue. So maybe a different character would have been a better choice.

The variant cover by José Luis García-López is quite disappointing. All the characters look off-model, clunky and stiff. The one that bugs me the most is Nite Owl. I think he's supposed to be slightly smiling, but he comes across as unusually stern for a pose like this. I'm not too sad that we don't have another Jim Lee cover to complain about. But I will laugh slightly at how he only drew Hooded Justice and didn't commit to drawing any of the other Minutemen.

This issue begins in 1962 with Hollis Mason discussing his upcoming tell-all book with Larry Schexnayder, Sally Jupiter's former husband and publicist. Larry is opposed to Hollis' decision to make a "confession" on behalf of all of the former Minutemen without their consent. This is a valid point, but Larry quickly undermines it by revealing he's worried about the brand name of the Minutemen and his ability to squeeze some more profits from it. Hollis angrily storms away from Larry, vowing to print the book as planned.

Hollis wrestles with the conflicting feelings of the guilt of his complicity in the Minutemen's sins, weighed against the pride from the good deeds he accomplished as Nite Owl. Mostly, he wants to stop whitewashing history. And he realizes that half the reason he wanted to write this book was primarily because of all the coverups Larry engineered during the heyday of the Minutemen.

Hollis' tale then takes us back to 1939, where he saw a newspaper advertisement for costumed crimefighter tryouts conducted by Captain Metropolis and Silk Spectre. After a fun montage of some of tryout's rejects, we skip ahead a couple of weeks to the full Minutemen team conducting their first mission. Captain Metropolis meticulously planned a raid on a New York Harbor warehouse, where a group of Italian fifth columnists were allegedly smuggling weapons. Every member of the Minutemen had a job tailored to their own talents, and with the aid of Metropolis' own tank, the plan proceeds perfectly. Except for the part where the Italians were actually smuggling Chinese fireworks instead of weapons.

Nite Owl tries to get his teammates to stop when he learns the truth, but his warnings are too late. The Minutemen destroyed the warehouse with all the harmless cherry bombs and Roman candles inside. Captain Metropolis let the Italians go with a warning, then told the rest of the Minutemen to take off, as well. Hollis knew he should have reported this to the police, but he was too embarrassed of the disaster and too scared of spending time in jail.

The next day, Captain Metropolis held a press conference with the full team, falsely claiming that an artillery shell from his own tank was the last remaining weapon from the "saboteurs" the Minutemen stopped. Hollis fully expected one of the reporters to catch them in their lies, but none of them did. The Minutemen were hailed as heroes, quickly becoming darlings of the radio and newspapers. Hollis soaked up the adulation, rationalizing that this higher profile would enable the team to start doing some real good moving forward.

We skip ahead to 1940, with the Minutemen meeting at Captain Metropolis' lair. Metropolis spent several months refurbishing their new headquarters, even importing wood from Africa for the decor. Larry announces that he's scheduled a photo shoot for next week and says that their frequent media appearances are bringing in some money that could be used to help with their living expenses. At the talk of money, Nite Owl directly calls out the Comedian for routinely robbing every alleged criminal he turns over to the police. But no one seems to share Hollis' concerns.

Captain Metropolis gives everyone patrol routes, waving off Dollar Bill's scheduling conflicts with his bank. Metropolis then opens the floor to any ideas for major crimes the team could target. Silhouette says she's made more progress with the child trafficking ring we saw her battle last issue, but Silk Spectre scoffs at that idea. Larry agrees, saying they need good, happy publicity about stopping dumb crime bosses and saving grandmas, not sad little children who have been molested. Silhouette is stunned into silence by this attitude, and so am I. 

But then again, I'm coming at this story from 2024, and here in Utah, I've had a up-close look of a fraudster wannabe hero named Tim Ballard build a massive following around the false premise that he was saving children from human traffickers. He even made a hit movie, The Sound of Freedom, about his alleged exploits, before he had several lawsuits filed against him for sexual exploitation and abuse. Anyway, my point is that one of the best ways to look like a hero today is to save children from traffickers and pornographers. (Which is exactly why Darwyn Cooke had the Silhouette focus on this.) But then again, this might have been seen as a rather taboo topic, too risqué for the mainstream media of 1940.

In any case, Captain Metropolis and Larry both oppose Silhouette's suggestion, but they love Mothman's idea of targeting Moloch. He is, after all, the closest thing to a genuine super villain in their world. The meeting is ended, with some of the members choosing to stick around to smoke and drink, while Silhouette heads out to keep working her child trafficking case. Nite Owl and (surprisingly) Mothman agree to join her. Larry pulls Hooded Justice aside to tell him that too many people are suspecting that he's gay. So Larry suggests that Hooded Justice pretend to date Sally to quash those rumors.

Larry takes Silk Spectre home and has to twist her arm into agreeing with his plan. Dollar Bill and the Comedian crack open a couple of beers, but unfortunately overhear the Hooded Justice and Captain Metropolis having a very intense, very private conversation. We later see Hooded Justice has tied Metropolis up to a bed, causing him to beg to be released, saying this whole affair has gone too far. It's a tad distressing, but then again, there's the real possibility that this could be some kind of kinky, consensual role play. It's too tough to tell at this point.

Juxtaposed with this story is Silhouette, Nite Owl and Mothman searching for a young boy who went missing while visiting the circus a few days ago. Silhouette has been scouring the area and has one last building to check. Mothman starts investigating the building from the top down, while Nite Owl and Silhouette start from the bottom up. They quickly discover some disturbing signs: small, bloody handprints and discarded rope. They follow a foul stench upstairs and hear someone crying. The tears were coming from Mothman, who discovered the boy's body hanging from the ceiling.

Whew! Now that is a story worthy of Watchmen! Cooke was a bit cautious with his first issue, but he's gone all out here, and I love it. The subject matter is deep, thoughtful material that lingers with you. I don't just mean the dramatic ending that was accompanied with Robert Louis Stephenson's haunting poem, The Unseen Playmate. Hollis' internal struggles apply equally to 1939 and 1962. How many compromises can be made in the pursuit of hopefully, potentially doing the right thing one day? How much trust and confidentially can be betrayed in the pursuit of revealing the truth and atoning for past misdeeds? The Hollis of 1985 had pretty much made peace with his decisions — no matter how disastrous they may have been — and was content to drunkenly reminisce about the "golden age" of heroes. That version of Hollis was not nearly as compelling as Cooke is making him here.

I'm also a huge fan of having Captain Metropolis stage a fake mission for his new team. That fits in perfectly with what we saw in the DC Heroes role playing game, as well as the limited information Alan Moore gave us in the main Watchmen series. His secret homosexual affair with Hooded Justice is quite interesting, as well. Moore only obliquely hinted at it in the main series, and many fans have suspected that the openly gay older men seen in a restaurant were secretly Metropolis and Justice, who had faked their deaths. Right now, I mostly find it interesting that Larry didn't confront Nelson Gardner about this. Was it that he didn't suspect, or he did but was too nervous to ruffle the feathers of the chief financier of this operation?

Ultimately, this is essentially what I would have wanted from a prequel series by Moore and Dave Gibbons. Cooke's writing is on the money, as well as his art. Colorist Phil Noto was actually listed first in the credits for this issue, and for good reason. Noto's colors perfectly compliment Cooke's art and establish the proper tone and mood for each scene. Noto also does an excellent job clearly delineating between the various flashbacks and jumps in time, helping the reader know exactly where and when they were in a story, even if they missed the small date in the corner.

Cooke's Minutemen has just substantially raised the bar for this Before Watchmen project. I really hope the Silk Spectre and the other miniseries can keep up.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1996

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 26, 1996 – Continental Airlines Arena, East Rutherford, New Jersey

Previous season:

The Jazz went 55-27 in 1995-96 and very nearly reached the NBA Finals, sadly losing by just four points in Game 7 of the Western Conference Finals in Seattle. Karl Malone (First Team All-NBA) and John Stockton (Second Team All-NBA) were still All-Stars playing great basketball, and Jeff Hornacek still had cartilage in his knee. But Bryon Russell and Greg Ostertag hadn't fully developed into starting material yet, which meant Jerry Sloan had to rely too much on David Benoit, Chris Morris and Felton Spencer.

The draft:

In 1995, the NBA started mandating that all first-round picks receive a guaranteed three-year contract. This was still a novel concept for the Jazz and penny-pinching owner Larry H. Miller didn't want to waste the 25th pick on someone who couldn't make the team. So general manager Scott Layden drafted Estonian forward Martin Muursepp and immediately traded him to Miami for a 2000 first-round pick (which was used on DeShawn Stevenson).

With the 54th pick, the Jazz took Georgia swingman Shandon Anderson.

Analysis:

The 1996 draft was historically incredible with four Hall of Famers going in the first round. And luckily for Utah, there was a fifth Hall of Famer who went undrafted: Ben Wallace. The undersized big man from Virginia Union was on nobody's radar in 1996, especially since the NBA's rules favored teams with a 7-footer parked in front of the basket. (There's a reason why Chicago had Luc Longley and the Jazz had Greg Ostertag.) But by 2002, rule changes would drastically alter the center position, opening the door for Wallace to win four Defensive Player of the Year awards. So I would have to convince Miller and Layden that drafting Wallace now is an investment, but a worthy one. Especially since Miller explicitly traded away Muursepp to open up salary cap space to sign a free agent, but the Jazz were unable to sign anyone significant that offseason.

Oh, and as for Muursepp? His NBA career lasted a grand total of 83 games before he returned to Europe. Utah didn't miss out on anything there.

The Anderson pick is a bit more challenging for me. On one hand, he was one of Utah's best second-round picks in franchise history. He had an immediate impact and became an important role player during Utah's back-to-back trips to the Finals. But Anderson only lasted three years with the Jazz before leaving for a bigger payday in Houston. He eventually had a solid, but unremarkable 10-year career, ending with playing sparingly on Miami's 2006 championship team.

I'd really like to get an upgrade to Anderson, since I remember well his failings in the Finals (especially one egregiously missed layup). But I also think there's a good chance the Jazz wouldn't have reached those heights without him. Besides, who would I replace him with? The closest contender I have is point guard Chucky Atkins, but the Jazz already had Howard Eisley and I don't think Atkins would have been a sufficient upgrade over him — not to mention leaving that gaping hole on the wing that Anderson filled. So I think the Jazz should just stay with him.

My advice:

1. Keep the 25th pick and use it on Ben Wallace.

2. Use the 54th pick on Shandon Anderson.

I know Miller would have hated the idea of paying Wallace to warm the bench for three years, but I would have told him that you can't pass up on a Hall of Famer when you get the chance. And who knows? Maybe Jerry Sloan could have figured out how to use Wallace on those Finals teams.

Before Watchmen: The Ugliness of Ozymandias

An unexpected effect of my deep dive into Watchmen was that Ozymandias has sort of become my favorite character. Yes, he's essentially the "bad guy" of the story, but all the characters are fundamentally flawed and deeply unlikable. So I guess I've grown to sympathize with the one character who was actually devoted to improving the world — despite his horrific methods. And I was quite excited to see that Len Wein would be tackling this complicated character. Wein was the editor of the main Watchmen series, making him (as far as I know) the only person to work on both the original Watchmen and this prequel project. 

Unfortunately, my heart sank when I saw Jae Lee was the artist. His incredibly stylized work is not my cup of tea. I hate the way he draws hair and faces — heck, I don't like the way he draws people in general. It's just very ugly work. In my opinion. I will give him credit for creating atmospheric and moody scenes. But on a whole, I'd rather have him as a variant cover artist instead. Speaking of covers, though, I have to admit this one isn't too bad. I like the idea of Ozymandias being able to levitate through meditation, but he can't. At least not what I've been able to see so far.

The variant cover by Phil Jimenez is pretty solid. Ozymandias is resolutely looking ahead to the future with a quiet dignity and just enough of an air of arrogance. The background images, while narratively significant, are a bit of a distraction. The mosaic of Alexander the Great is historically accurate, but that oversized eyeball is poorly placed. And those squid tentacles spreading throughout New York City seems contradictory to the original story. I never got the sense that the monster was quite that big.

Jim Lee's variant is bland as always. Ozymandias looks as bored as Jim Lee probably was while drawing this. And he looks a bit too young? Maybe it's the hair. I also found it interesting that none of these three covers put Ozymandias in his mask. I guess most people just instinctively think of him without it — as he was at the end of Watchmen. But this is supposed to be a prequel comic.

Reportedly, the only time Dave Gibbons pushed back on Alan Moore during the making of Watchmen was about some of Adrian Veidt's overly long monologues. Gibbons said he couldn't cram so many words on a page and Moore complied. This makes me wonder if editor Len Wein was able to see those unabridged monologues. Regardless, he does capture Adrian's voice very well, and even quotes extensively from Moore's finished work.

Oddly, this story takes place on Oct. 11, 1985, just minutes before Adrian will undertake his "great mission." Fearing he might not survive, he decides to record his life's story in the hopes that history will look favorably upon his actions. Adrian begins his tale by commenting on how he has earned "more money than any one man could hope to spend in several lifetimes," which is a rather odd statement coming from a man who was aggressively plotting to profit off his scheme. If he could admit that he was hoarding an obscene amount of wealth, then why was he so focused on accumulating more? Just out of habit?

Anyway, the story actually begins with Adrian's parents fleeing the Nazis and arriving in New York in 1939. Moore said little about the Veidts, other than they were wealthy and both died when Adrian was a teenager. Wein fills in a few more details, but not too many. Apparently the elder Veidt made his fortune in the perfume industry, which helps explain Adrian's successful Nostalgia line. Adrian's father also had dreams of his son becoming president of the United States and gave him the middle name of Alexander, setting up a lifelong obsession with Alexander the Great.

One of the strangest parts about Adrian's backstory (that came directly from Moore) was how he was forced to carefully conceal his brilliance in school. I never understood why Adrian's wealthy parents wouldn't just enroll him in a private school and/or college. Luckily, Wein addressed this. Sort of. At age 6, Adrian scored so highly on an aptitude test that his teacher accused him of cheating. Rather than giving him another test or putting him in a gifted program, Adrian's dad convinced the teacher the test score was just a fluke. At home, in front of a poster of a very familiar-looking alien, Adrian is ordered by his father to maintain a low profile so people wouldn't consider him a freak. This still isn't a satisfying answer for me, as Wein fails to provide any insight behind this reasoning. Luckily, things do get better.

Adrian tried to keep a low profile, as ordered, but turned out to be almost too good at it. His aloof attitude made him a target for school bullies. Adrian's dad wanted to report the bullies to the principal, but Adrian refused, choosing instead to invest his paper route money into kung fu lessons. It took several months, but Adrian finally felt strong enough to fight back one day, brutally shattering his bully's kneecap. But to Adrian's dismay, his father was forced to make a sizable donation to the school to keep him from being expelled.

From that day on, Adrian vowed to stop holding back. He graduated high school at 14 and by the age of 17, he was taking post-graduate courses at Harvard — specializing his studies in Alexander the Great, naturally. This point of the story takes us to my next sticking point with Moore's brief origin. Adrian's parents died when he was 17. We don't know how or why. A part of me suspected that Adrian might have killed them himself, but I'm glad Wein didn't play into that cliché. However, he didn't provide anything original, either. The parents were just killed in a car crash. Plain and simple. The story demanded that they die, and Wein had no interest in exploring beyond that.

Instead, Wein decided to have Adrian absurdly spend several weeks staring at a bust of Alexander the Great in a museum. Eventually, he decided to donate his inheritance to charity and sail to Turkey to retrace Alexander's footsteps. Wein quotes directly from Moore for most of this part, deviating only to explain how Adrian continued his martial arts training. At one point, he became strong enough to support his entire body with just a finger.

In Tibet, Adrian was given a ball of hashish by a man he hesitatingly called an "acquaintance" for his recording, although the art heavily implies the two men had had sexual relations. (I don't have a problem with Adrian being gay or bisexual, but I was really hoping that he wasn't just so the homophobic Rorschach could be wrong.) Adrian consumed the drugs in a desert and hallucinated a horrific vision of the dead pharaohs rising from the ground like zombies. But Adrian embraced this vision, realizing that while Alexander failed to truly unify the world, he had succeeded in resurrecting the immortal wisdom of the Ancient Egyptian kings who had their most trusted servants buried alive to preserve their secrets.

After spending many months abroad, Adrian finally returned to New York. He said he somehow acquired a small "nest egg" during his travels, though he never elaborates on this. Suffice it to say, he had just enough money to start playing the stock market. As the weeks passed, he randomly began dating a girl named Miranda. Within months, Adrian was a wealthy man once again, consistently making the best possible moves with buying and selling his stocks, while never making a mistake. Eighteen months after returning to America, Adrian was a full-blown corporate mogul and had begun construction on a skyscraper for both his business offices and personal penthouse. The financial papers have already dubbed him the world's smartest man, but his relationship with Miranda was deteriorating.

To fill the void in her life, Miranda turned to drugs — drugs supplied by Moloch. Turns out the drugs were dirty and Adrian came home one night to find Miranda dead on their bed. For the first and only time since his parents died, Adrian wept for what might have been. He blamed himself for Miranda's death, but stopped short of calling the police, fearing the bad publicity this would bring his young company. Inspired by Nite Owl and the Comedian, Adrian decided to become a masked vigilante to personally avenge Miranda. Conveniently, he just happened to already have a costume on hand, in preparation of an upcoming Halloween party. Adding a few accessories and weapons, and just like that, Ozymandias was born.

Well, that was a rather disappointing ending. A random and completely unnecessary girlfriend appeared out of nowhere just to be killed and provide motivation for the main character to become a hero. When we talk about "fridging" girls, this is what we're talking about. (If you're not aware, "fridging" refers to a Green Lantern girlfriend in the 90s whose sole purpose was to be killed and dramatically stuffed into a refrigerator.) I'm also slightly worried that Wein and Brian Azzarello weren't communicating. The Comedian #1 strongly implied that Moloch was not actually a drug dealer, but was the victim of an FBI setup looking to score some cheap publicity. But then again, maybe that story happened before this one and Moloch later decided to deal drugs? Even if that's the case, I don't like it that much. I prefer to think of Moloch as more bark than bite — almost a patsy created by a world in desperate need for a super villain to battle their super heroes.

For the most part, I did like how Wein wrote Adrian. His voice and attitude were spot on. But what left me wanting was when Wein got lazy. Adrian's parents need to die? Car crash! Adrian needs to get rich? Umm ... stock market! Now he needs to become a superhero? Easy, dead girlfriend! I will still hold out hope for this series to improve, but I know the art will continue to upset me and my confidence in Wein is on increasingly shaky ground.

On a whole, though, the first round of the Before Watchmen comics have been a pleasant surprise for me. Minutemen played it safe, but was strong. Silk Spectre and the Comedian displayed a level of thoughtfulness I wasn't expecting. Only Nite Owl was a complete disappointment for me. Ozymandias is solidly the second weakest entry so far, though. Unless you count the Crimson Corsair, which I really don't. It's just two pages of bland repetitiveness at the end of each issue.

Redrafting the Jazz: 1997

I have been cursed by a witch to repeatedly travel back through time to relive every NBA draft. Fortunately, her spell sends me directly to the Utah Jazz war room on draft night and all the executives magically know I’m from the future and will do whatever I say. Unfortunately, the curse prevents me from seeing how my advice altered the future, as I am sent back to the previous year as soon as draft night ends.

June 25, 1997 – Charlotte Coliseum, Charlotte, North Carolina

Previous season:

Everything finally all came together for the Jazz in 1996-97. Karl Malone won his first MVP, the Jazz won the West with a 64-18 record, and, most importantly, they reached the NBA Finals for the first time in franchise history, thanks to a dramatic last-second 3-pointer from John Stockton over the Houston Rockets. Everyone was so excited just to get to the Finals, we weren't that sad to lose to Chicago in six games. At least, not as sad as we'd be in 1998. Anyway, Utah had a very solid roster with few holes to fill heading into the draft.

The draft:

With the 27th pick, Scott Layden decided to add a third point guard to the roster, choosing Jacque Vaughn out of Kansas.

The 56th pick was spent on shooting guard Nate Erdmann from Oklahoma.

Analysis:

Vaughn was a good pick. He gave the Jazz exactly what they wanted — a competent backup point guard who could fill in for Howard Eisley when Stockton was hurt. Vaughn enjoyed a productive 12-year career in the NBA — almost always coming off the bench — and helped San Antonio win the 2007 championship. But he only lasted four years in Utah because the Jazz became enamored with Raul Lopez. So I think we can draft someone better. Swingman Stephen Jackson enjoyed a 14-year career as a strong shooter and a fairly decent defender. He helped the Spurs win the 2003 championship, and received votes for Most Improved Player of the Year in back-to-back years. One year, he even inexplicably received a vote for MVP. Yeah, he didn't quite deserve that, but he was still pretty good.

Erdmann never played a game in the NBA, so finding an upgrade for him is easy. My pick is combo guard Damon Jones, who spent a solid decade in the league and was one of the best 3-point shooters in his prime.

My advice:

1. Use the 27th pick on Stephen Jackson.

2. Use the 56th pick on Damon Jones.

I know the Jazz really needed a third-string point guard, but I would have convinced Layden to pick one up in free agency. Jackson would have started behind Bryon Russell and Shandon Anderson, but I'm confident he would have eventually surpassed both of them.

Before Watchmen: The Nightmare of Nite Owl

I have been pleasantly surprised with the Before Watchmen stories so far. They haven't been perfect —  and I still question the decision to undertake this project in the first place — but Darwyn Cooke and Brian Azzarello clearly put a lot of thought into this undertaking. Sadly, I can't say the same for J. Michael Straczynski's take on Nite Owl. He's joined by Andy Kubert on pencils and Joe Kubert on inks with Brad Anderson on colors. On my first flip-through, I though this was the absolutely wrong team for this title — this artwork is just too light and cartoony for this subject matter. But as I dove into it, I gained an appreciation for Kubert's style (with one notable exception, which I'll get to later). In a way, this main cover is the perfection representation of both Kubert's art and the Nite Owl character. 

On first glance, this looks like a neat, brooding cover that we've seen on hundreds of Batman comics. But when you look closer, you realize just how goofy-looking Nite Owl is to be sitting like that. Arms crossed, leaning back in a passive pose, with feet too high up to quickly spring into action. You'd never catch Batman in such an ineffective position. But it's perfect for Nite Owl, the most awkward and ridiculous character of Watchmen.

This variant cover by Kevin Nowlan reminds me of that Saturday morning cartoon spoof of Watchmen — and I mean that in a good way. It's a rather cheesy, goofy style that would work perfectly in animated form, in addition to being a great visualization of Nite Owl's romanticism of the Golden Age of heroes. I sincerely hope Nowlan was intentionally trying to make this cheesy, because that's the way I see it and I love it.

Jim Lee once again failed to deliver on his variant. This time, he messed up by drawing the wrong character. This isn't Nite Owl — this is Owlman, the evil version of Batman from Earth 3. Lee was so focused on trying to draw Nite Owl in a "cool," "serious" way that he failed to realize the defining characteristic of Nite Owl is his inability to look cool. He's a doofus. And despite his skills as a fighter, detective and inventor, he can never hide that doofiness. I think I understand now why Lee likes Zack Snyder so much. They both share the same shallow view of these characters.

Did Straczynski make that same mistake? A little bit. I think. Let's break it down. He starts the story in 1962 with a young Dan Dreiberg being chewed out by his father. We always knew Dan's dad left him a fortune, but we never got the sense that he was abusive, too. Anyway, Straczynski shows us that part of Dan's obsession with the first Nite Owl was an excuse to avoid his unsympathetic father. And being a fan of Nite Owl is apparently real easy now, since Hollis Mason has licensed his image on toys, comic books, calendars and more. I think even Adrian Veidt and Sally Jupiter would be a little ashamed by this merchandizing. However, I do kind of like Straczynski playing up Hollis' willingness to sell out. I would say he probably should have been a wealthier man in Watchmen, though, but I think you could justify that by saying he spent all his merchandizing money on his bizarrely futuristic owl-shaped car (which is also new).

Straczynski is also willing to show Hollis more of a publicity hound than most people think of him. After turning a handful of criminals over to the police, Hollis hams it up with the crowd of spectators, spouting off catchphrases and encouraging them to hoot like owls. This gives Dan enough time to sneak a tracker on Hollis' car, which leads him to Hollis' garage. I was slightly surprised at how many guns Hollis owned, but once again, I do like the idea of shedding his "goody two-shoes" image.

Dan leaves a note for his hero to meet him later that day at a park. He excitedly tells his hero how he discovered his secret identity and offers to help him protect it by becoming his sidekick. Hollis says he'll consider it, then warns Dan to be more careful, revealing that he came to the park armed, not knowing who he'd be meeting with.

Later, Straczynski kicks up the abusive father trope into high gear. Dan walks in on his dad savagely beating his mom with his belt. Dan hides out by a fire pit in the backyard and his mom eventually joins him, revealing that Dan's dad has suffered a heart attack, but she's choosing to let him die before calling an ambulance.

Deep sigh!

This isn't that bad. And in another story, it could be interesting — shocking, even. But here? It just doesn't fit. Why did Dan need a tragic backstory, too? This is such a lazy crutch of modern-day comics. Writers like Geoff Johns have this burning desire to insert melodramatic tragedy wherever they can, and most of the time it's completely unnecessary. Dan didn't need the extra motivation of an abusive father to become a superhero. He was just a big nerd with too much money and time on his hands. That's it.

Anyway, Hollis attends the funeral of Dan's father, which took place during the rain because of course it did. Hollis offers to start training Dan, and we're treated to a couple of pages of that montage, including Hollis' decision to retire. A couple of years later, Dan is the new Nite Owl, complete with his flying ship, Archimedes. He breaks up some looters during a blackout, then suddenly discovers a man in a trench coat with a black-and-white mask has snuck into his ship. Rorschach suggests they become partners and Nite Owl agrees to the stranger on the spot. Seriously. Just like that.

We get a one-page montage of Nite Owl and Rorschach working together until Straczynski takes us to the infamous meeting with Captain Metropolis. Dan is instantly smitten by Laurie (another odd and slightly creepy addition to the story) and he jealously looks on as Laurie quietly flirts with Dr. Manhattan. In another unnecessary addition, Captain Metropolis starts the meeting by having everybody write their name on a piece of paper, which he'll then pull from a bowl to pair them all up in groups of two. The first name he draws is Dr. Manhattan and the second is Rorschach. But before Captain Metropolis can read the second paper, Dr. Manhattan somehow causes the ink to morph into Silk Spectre's signature. If this doesn't make any sense, don't worry — it goes absolutely nowhere.

Straczynski then plays out the rest of the meeting as we saw in the Watchmen comic, but with an emphasis on Nite Owl watching Laurie and Dr. Manhattan check each other out. This is where Kubert's art really fails, as his lack of subtlety betrays the nature of Dr. Manhattan's character. A big part of Watchmen is Dr. Manhattan's lack of emotion. But these oafish grins completely undermine that idea.

The issue ends with Rorschach oddly saying they were lucky the Comedian didn't burn down the whole building (even though the main series seemed to indicate that Rorschach never actually did anything with the Comedian). Dan complains that he didn't get to be partnered up with Laurie, saying he felt like they were "fated to be together."

So with that clumsy attempt at needless foreshadowing, let's wrap this up. I did like some things about this story — namely how Straczynski wrote Hollis Mason. But his inability to focus on a single aspect of Nite Owl's origin severely hampers this issue. We're just constantly jumping around from moment to moment, like the whole issue was merely a montage itself. We could have spent a whole issue on Dan training under Hollis. But instead Straczynski felt compelled to rush ahead to the Nite Owl/Rorschach team, all while stuffing in pointless details about an abusive father and Dan's attraction to a teenager. We don't need to see Dan swoon over Laurie — we already know they end up together. 

But what we did need was a better reason for Nite Owl and Rorschach to become partners. It makes no sense that Dan would instantly agree to work with a complete stranger who snuck onboard his airship. There's a lot of potential here that Straczynski just left hanging. Granted, we do have more Nite Owl issues coming up, plus the Rorschach miniseries, so maybe we'll get to see a more thorough examination of that partnership. But that doesn't make this issue any less jarring. And I'm sad to say that this is the first issue of Before Watchmen that really disappointed me.