We’re changing things up this week. Because it’s a holiday here in America, and because Thanksgiving is followed by Black Friday — which might actually be the busier day, somehow — my Ten Things column is running on Wednesday this week and it’s becoming something else. It’s now a tradition for me to turn that regular column into a holiday spectacular where I instead highlight ten things I’ve been thankful for from the year in comics, so we’ll be doing that today before taking a siesta during the rest of the holiday week.

The Sheer Power of Stupid (Complimentary)

Incredibly, this isn’t the first time I’ve brought this kind of thing up as a point for this very column. That’s for a good reason: I feel like comics — particularly superhero ones — are far too fearful of seeming stupid at times, and I’m extremely thankful for the ones that embrace that energy.

That might sound weird. “Is stupid…good?” you may be asking. I’d argue yes, but only if it’s the specific flavor of that idea I’m speaking to. I don’t mean comics should be illogical or confusing or poorly crafted. They should still be good, of course. I mean they shouldn’t worry about doing insane things out of concern that it might make the comic seem stupid. They should just go for it, no holds barred.

The best example of this is Absolute Batman, a comic by Scott Snyder, Nick Dragotta, and friends that leans into the stupid life as well as any comic I can remember. And I mean that as a compliment. Honestly, I think that team’s willingness to approach the line of tomfoolery and nonsense but never completely lose itself there is that book’s secret superpower, and I am being completely serious when I say that.

Just think about that book if you doubt me. Batman’s almost seven feet tall and 400+ pounds. Bane makes him look like a baby. Batman kicks kids off boats and drives comically large industrial equipment around Gotham. His shoulders have spikes and his cape has hooks. His chest is also an axe. Everything about this book goes to 11, and that means so much of this book could be dumb as heck. But the team’s willingness to risk that while swerving towards cool at the last second is where its spice comes from.

Maybe more than any comic, Absolute Batman taps into the same energies that people love about manga without losing its fundamental identity as a Batman comic. That’s a tough line to walk, just like it is for manga, which often deftly straddles the stupid/smart split. I’m thankful for the books that can do that, because they are often the most entertaining reads.

Metronomes, Always on Beat

The comic industry, like every other entertainment medium, tends to focus on the new hotness. Absolute DC? Other micro lines like the Energon Universe or Ultimate Marvel? DC’s Compact Comics? All major draws from the past couple years. They’re evidence of the fact that if you do new (or at least new-ish), you’re going to get the bulk of the attention. We crave the new, because that’s how we’re built. But you know what?

It was a great year for comic book metronomes.

That phrase, along with its twin in “metronome comics,” is one I use to talk about comics we kind of sleep on simply because they’ve been around for a while. They’re no longer new, so they’re not as hot or as talked about as they once were. It doesn’t even matter if they’re still good. Quality is almost immaterial in the conversation at times. They’re unfortunately old favorites in a space dominated by the new, and that’s the way it is.

Now, “old favorites” aren’t what they once were. We’re in an era defined by relaunches and miniseries. 100+ issue runs effectively do not exist. Even titles over 20 issues are few and far between. But some carry on as metronomes, and I thank them for their service and eternal quality. Whether it’s creator-owned comics like Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips’ collaborations and Wes Craig’s Kaya or shockingly long-running superhero runs like Kelly Thompson and friends on Birds of Prey and Ryan North and pals on Fantastic Four, comics and collaborations that have had sustained runs typically only become better with the passage of time, not worse. Maybe that’s why they lasted to begin with, but that longevity allows for depth other titles simply can’t get to.

Just look at Brubaker and Phillips. I think The Knives might be the best thing they’ve ever done together, even if it’s easy to handwave it away and say, “It’s another Brubaker and Phillips book!” Yeah, that’s true. But it’s awesome, and you only get a work as complex and clever as The Knives after building trust with each other and readers across any number of other collaborations.

As runs and titles get shorter, how I value the ones that go 20, 30, 40 issues or more only grows. I’m thankful for my precious metronome comics, but I’d love to see even more comics go on long enough to earn that title in the future. Fingers crossed.

Comics, Rewarding Adventures

A lot of times, it can feel like comic readers put themselves in boxes. “I’m a Marvel reader,” they say, or “I stick to indies,” they tell themselves. While those boxes aren’t always small, they often still exist. That reduces our engagement with the medium to a limited mix of stories and creators and formats. And that’s fine! It’s a big world, and you don’t have to explore it all.

But a consistent joy for me in recent years — and perhaps most especially 2025 — is how rewarding it’s become to expand the box I reside in. The past three years have been highlight reels for that expansion, as 2023 was The Year of Autobio, 2024 was The Year of Manga, and 2025 is The Year of Comic Strips. It’s not that I’d never read any of those types before, but each of those years found me wholeheartedly embracing them in a way I hadn’t before (or at least not recently in the case of comic strips).

While it’s perfectly fine to stick to what you’re comfortable with, if only because comics as a medium is just one of many boxes we can put ourselves in from an entertainment standpoint, it’s also a medium that benefits those who are willing to explore new horizons. And sure, you might learn that some comics aren’t for you. But that’s part of the process, because you never know which comic that exists at the edges of your box might be your new favorite.

The medium of comics is massive. Comics can be anything and come in practically any form. That’s one of my favorite things about the medium, even if my box is still small compared to others. And I’m thankful for that part of comics. It’s malleability and versatility is a defining characteristic, and one of the most rewarding parts for the reader who is willing to go on an adventure.