Why Being A Fan of THE AVENGERS Is The Hardest Job of All!

I am a comic geek. There, said it. Can't take it back. And nor would I want to as I find that this statement has become central to my identity in a world where borders cross, races blend, sexes change and reality TV is a popular medium. Whilst I have a passion for many titles and characters, only The Avengers has been the single all-consuming constant. This is the story of an Avengers Fanatic, and his long road to salvation. Let me set the scene; Glebe Markets in Sydney circa 1992. Minding a stall of cutlery-turned-jewellery under the belief that my friend's mum would reward us handsomely, I was quickly rendered immobile through sheer boredom. Luckily a nearby stall holder saw my dire situation and came running to my aid with a dog-eared anti-boredom serum; Avengers #336. It was full of action, aliens, costumes and more super heroes jam packed into a few pages than you would ever think was possible! An addict was born. How was I to know that such an innocent moment would leave me forever at the mercy of Marvel's midas-like marketing department? And that I would love every second of it. #336 was part 3 of the story arc known as 'The Collection Obsession'. The moment I finished the issue I was torn... do I go backward to find out how we got here, or forward to solve the mystery of the cliffhanger ending? This is a dilemma that I face all of the time. The Avengers was a brilliant marketing scheme hidden inside a cool concept. A comic book team created for the sole purpose of cross-marketing characters who already have their own comic series. A Captain America fan might discover how nerdy Iron Man is, or a Thor reader uncovers the millions of mutant X-Men. Devious. But I had come direct to the Avengers, and I loved them all! The next thing I know I'm tracking down back issues. But not just Avengers back issues; I need Sleepwalker and Moon Knight, the Inhumans and Hercules. So many awesome characters appear in each successive issue giving me only a taste and a tantalising hint of their backstory. Spider-Man swings through. The Fantastic Four quadruple the fun. The Hulk smashes... well, just smashes really. Then there's Avengers West Coast which would have been an easy ignore were I not a devout Hawkeye follower (and all part of the master plan over there at Marvel). Force Works popped up momentarily looking dark and edgy. Solo Avengers with its one-off stories of individual Avengers members. Nova and Marvel Boy help form the New Warriors, and a new subscription for me. When Heroes Reborn flips everything on its head, it is the central Avengers titles that are rebooted. And then they drag Hawkeye off to redeem the Thunderbolts and get me hooked yet again! Then comes Avengers Next, New Avengers, Mighty Avengers, Avengers: The Initiative, Dark Avengers, Avengers Academy, Young Avengers and Secret Avengers. Don't forget House of M and The Ultimates. And the squillion mini-series such as Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective, or the phenomenal The Last Avengers Story. Come 2006 I decided to try to wean myself off this addiction. Maybe, just maybe, I didn't need to collect EVERYTHING. So, cold turkey it is. I tell my local dealer to cancel all but the core few titles. I try to hide my dry mouth, the shakes in my hands, and a desperate desire to roll naked in their back issue storeroom. That lasted about a week... damn you Marvel! They release the Civil War 'event' and it's game back on. However instead of just returning to the titles I was buying before, I now have to buy everything! Each issue made absolutely no sense without reading another 10 different titles to fill me in on what had happened. I would open up a comic and find a funeral for a fallen hero. Who died? When? How? Damn it. €œHoney I'll be back in half an hour. Just have to pop out for an emergency run down to Classic Comics.€ It was like I had given up pot only to start injecting heroin into my eyeballs. Then it's Annihilation, Secret Invasion, Dark Reign, Siege and The Heroic Age. Let's not talk about the action figures by the car-boot load. Posters, T-shirts, statuettes, video games, minimates. I am basically collecting the entire Marvel Universe. Unless you are an Avengers fan you will have a hard time understanding. Maybe the JLA-ers out there are our closest empaths (no, I am not condoning DC... a topic for another time) as they too deal with the flux of their favourite book each year. That's it. No more. My bank account is overdrawn. My employers are starting to get suspicious of the 277 sick days I have already taken, just to keep up with the reading. I can't find my wife amongst the piles of long white boxes (I was sure that I heard her call out last November). And I think that She-Hulk statue just winked at me. I give up. I step, blinking, into the light of a new day. Outside I see that Swatch watches have gone out of fashion and Michael Jackson has died. The air smells fresh. Birds sing and children play. My mobile rings and I discover that my friends still know who I am, €œHey there Dan. Yep I did it. I am embarking on a new lease of life. I'm going to climb mountains, save pandas, volunteer at... what was that? Joss Whedon? Writing AND directing? May 2012? Damn it.€ Maybe there'll be a rehab clinic for this one day.