#Stan lee dc marvel crossover code#

They blinked first and made revisions to the code that were a vain attempt to recapture some semblance of relevance.

#Stan lee dc marvel crossover full#

Suddenly, the CCA looked outright foolish, with their mishandling of the Spider-Man anti-drug story sending them into full damage control. It had the societal impact that the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, and Lee himself, had hoped for. The lack of approval didn't hinder sales at all, and the story itself was lauded by parents, teachers, and churches. Instead, they argued that it violated a general section that blanketed anything that 'ran contrary to the spirit of the code'.Ĭaught between a rock and a hard place, Lee simply said 'screw it' and released the comics anyway, without applying the Seal of Approval on the issues. The CCA wouldn't budge, despite the fact the CCA didn't specifically prohibit the word 'drugs' or drug use. Lee argued that the message was clearly anti-drugs, which couldn't be done without mentioning drugs at all. The story was presented to the CCA and was rejected on the basis of mentioning drugs. Behind it, the story began with Spidey saving a drugged-out man who was dancing on a rooftop from falling to his death, and ended with Peter Parker showing the Goblin/Harry Osborne, Sr. Through the pages of The Amazing Spider-Man #96 - 98, Spider-Man was battling the Green Goblin in the main plot. The story that Stan Lee crafted intentionally skirted preaching to his readers, weaving the anti-drug message into the story as a sub-plot like a, well, web. While it wasn't mandatory to submit comics for assessment, the only way to get them distributed was to have the Seal of Approval, the true definition of damned if you do and damned if you don't. The code, essentially, neutered the comic book medium, limiting the untapped potential of explosive creativity to simple, moral tales you could share with Grandma.

Shots at religion and race were also not allowed. No slang, no illicit idioms, no words like 'Terror' or 'Horror' in book titles. And if you thought you could make some coin through advertising in the pages of your comic book, well, you could, so long as it didn't promote sinful vices such as liquor, tobacco, fireworks, nude pin-ups, and more. If you wanted scenes with vampires like Morbius, werewolves, ghouls, and/or zombies, you were out of luck. No backtalk, disrespect, or sass against authority figures, and the good Lord help you if the heroes lost. There could be no depictions of gore, sexuality, and excessive violence. The standards for passing the code were staggeringly high. Oddly enough, the 'M' in CMAA didn't include magazines, just comics (which presumably led to the 'What, Me Worry?' line associated with the magazine). Gaines resigned from the CMAA in October 1955, closed down EC Comics, and launched a little magazine you may have heard of: MAD Magazine. Gaines initially held out against joining his peers, but wholesalers had jumped on the bandwagon and refused to sell any comics without code approval, prompting Gaines to give in. Recognizing the winds had changed, publishers formed the Comics Magazine Association of America and its code. Mental health experts soon entered the collective, insisting that children became desensitized to violence thanks to the actions of comic book characters. Teachers decried how they impacted students' reading habits, parents didn't appreciate their children selecting their own leisure reading, and the church protested the immoral content found in the comics, like scantily clad women and the idolization of villains.

In the days before the creation of the CMAA and its regulatory Comics Code Authority branch, comic books had already stirred up the masses, citing them as a bad influence on America's vulnerable children. Without it, many retailers simply refused to sell the comic. But for almost 60 years, the Seal of Approval meant that censors with the industry's Comics Magazine Association of America had approved the content as acceptable. Its Seal of Approval on the cover of comic books died in 2011, with only a handful of comic books even bothering to have the stamp-like seal on their covers at the time. If you haven't heard of the Comics Code Authority, it isn't all that surprising.