Today’s first episode in: “I exercise my right to veto”  is about something near and dear to the clan-descent punk rock comic subculture iconoclast: Tank Girl.

Growing up with a very corporate father, Tank Girl’s ode to a single finger raised literature made for must have fuel for the rebellion. Tank Girl embodied feminism, righteous taste in music and a hodgepodge of style beyond her time.  She was (and still is) a symbol of pure unadulterated punk rock Americana.

A little birdie told me a story was pending.  The original dosing was served fresh circa 1995.  I was 13.  Ah what a superb way to kickstart my teenage angst.  I mean despite the movie being absolutely terrible, how could you beat Naomi Watts getting all hot and heavy under the body of a plane while Lori Petty interlaced steam punk and bad innuendos all whilst toting the big guns with her cohort Booga?  Quite frankly, you just can’t.

I would take inspiration from this comic book to embrace the strength within.  That it was alright to dare to be bold.  That… ah the rad peer pressure bestowed on me thanks to a comic book allowance.  How it would continue to be embedded into me throughout adulthood.

But all my of those happy memories came to a screeching hault when I heard the news (albeit late) that they might be remaking my beloved comic movie… staring none other than… Miley Cyrus as Tank Girl.

Ok Hollywood, what the fuck is wrong with you?  Seriously.  Let’s cut through the bullshit here.  Ok we know that it’s the nature of the biz to take pop star Mickey Mousers and feed them into your army of Hollywood whore bag devoid of cognitive thought with no hope to adding something significant to society but for fucks sake, this is comics and quite possibly one of the most important dropped dominoes of my existence.

Do any of you remember some of those cut scenes?  I mean could you picture this outtake of Lori Petty and Booga’s implied romp in the sack with Miley Cyrus?

Or how about her uttering these lines of dialogue:

I’m 23. Look at me, I’m 23. I can see all from up here…. All the boys and girls…. All the dicks and fannys. And what of these sexual revolutions, boys and girls? Are you in the right sexual category? This is the question. Who gives a shit…… Dicks and balls dicks and fannys. Give me the celibate vegetarians from Mars anytime. I’d love to fuck you up. I’d love to fuck you up. Speaking of dicks, it’s Booga’s birthday today……. I’d better get the old tosser a present.. Right! Off to Dirty Fred’s Old Curiosity shop…

I think not folks.  Furthermore any one of you perverts that just pictured Miley Cyrus like that needs to be castrated… and please stay away from my daughter while you’re at it.

While I would absolutely love to see another studio go at this, I believe we can all agree that while the pickings of American actors aren’t what they used to be, she is near the bottom of whom should be considered.

For the love of humanity and all that is good and (oftentimes) bad, even the department of Water might have to trade sides if this is how American cinema is shaping up to be.  For shame Hollywood.  Seriously.

(Although I do think it would be hilarious to see Miley shave her head for the audition.  Please do it Miley.  I double dog dare you to.)

Growing up in small town middle America suburbia far away from the hubub of the city of dreams I had a desire to get as far away as possible.  Back then I would turn the pages of comic books and listen to rockabilly music dreaming dreaming dreaming of my chance to get to Oz.

Now?  Not much has changed except the backdrop.

Welcome to Los Angeles: the jungle of superficial icons.

I guess some things are embedded into you.

I still can be seen toting around comic books throughout the city.  A few comic crusaders make my everyday existence of struggling to make it in this galaxy far far away from home.

My introduction to comic books is tremendously attributed to one of the real life superheroes of my childhood: my dad.  His desire to escape from the skyscraper and cube of his nine to five corporate existence emblazoned a passion within me.  On many a Wednesday (much to my mother’s chagrin)  I could be seen in pigtails with missing teeth rested upon my Daddy’s shoulder’s as he showed me the magic within the pages.

As I grew up, the comic world further and further enveloped me.  It pushed me closer to my father, and at the same time… further away.  My dad views superhero comic books as the only form of comics acceptable.  My tastes, as you will see vary from the mainstream superheroes to the often forgotten stories of the indie world.

I invite you to join me as we embrace all that is superficially iconic in the world of entertainment… while giving some much needed love and focus to indie titles as well.

Superficially Iconic: a site for comic book intellectuals… and everyone else too.