Dear Punisher,

I would say that our relationship has been a rocky one, except for the fact that we’ve never really had anything resembling a functioning relationship. All during the holy crapfest that was the early/mid 90s comic book industry, no matter what anyone says, you sucked. Hard. Boring tale after sleep inducing escapade. And the heart? Your ever-loving soul? Well, quite simply, you were utterly bereft of these attributes. Sure, your modus operandi was a much-loved concept, and the 90s heyday playground for anti-heroes like yourself was certainly a primo place to make a nice home for your stomping grounds. Marvel even saw fit to give you multiple titles in, one might say, a stolid show of confidence in your character and your sales performance. But, and let's be honest here, they were giving away titles to just about anyone who asked. Remember Quasar? Sleepwalker? It was the 90s. Time to get over yourself, Frank.

Ok, ok, so I know a little later on, after some cancellations and whatnot, you hobbled into the creatively gritty hands of Garth Ennis. Now, that bastard had you pegged, it's true. Gave you some oomph, some bang bang to your gun report, some punish to your punishment. You got to off the bad guys and curse like a drunken sailor and, occasionally, even see a glimpse of the rare Marvel comic book boob. Sadly, and this is where I make my complaint that it wasn't really you Frank, the Punisher proper, you weren't part of the 616 Marvel Universe. And yes, you had the small run, with the kick-ass talent of Rick Remender helming the wheel, that was within the confines of the 616, but from what I can tell you weren't very happy then. I mean, c'mon, he had Daken kill you and then turned you into FrankenCastle. Interesting stories, assuredly, but hardly the sort of Punisher material I've longed for or would have been interested in.

However, I do understand you're a man of small patience, so let us come right to the point. After a 12 year leave of absence from the tumultuous and ever-changing world of comic books I have come back only to find myself in shock and awe at what all has happened during my sabbatical. House of M, Civil War, World War Hulk, etc. Then there's you, Punisher. You've a changed which is not something I even thought to expect. During the heyday of my collecting I steered clear of you and all your various titles and appearances. You were boring, clichéd; a walking illustration of that neandertal Dolph Lundgreen (oh yes, I went there, Frank.). Unlike Spider-Man, the X-Men, the Avengers, or the Fantastic Four titles, which, is true, were also weakly written for the most part, there was nothing fun about your books. You had nothing but the overwhelming onslaught of anti-hero love that that tidal-waved the early/mid 90s and propelled you into something a little more colorful than just the wan shades of the limelight.

Now, here it is 2011. Your MAX series by Jason Aaron is still going but it's winding down and anyway besides, it still has you standing outside the fire of the 616 continuity. I would like to, eventually, pick these up in trades, as I am a Jason Aaron fan, but barring that, all you have left is Greg Rucka's current run on your 616-confined, self-titled book. And let's just say he's changed my mind about you, you vigilante sweetheart.

Rucka's turned you into a beast. A true shadow skulking the street corners and alleyways of a dark city; an amoral Batman of the Marvel streamline. He's stared you down through the lens of the gritty and 'realistic' movement that's been running wild through comics and comic book movies in the past several years but managed to keep it somewhere in the realm of a very, very PG-13 take. Plainly stated, you just have a different feel nowadays. A real 21st century kind of kick.

There's the focus on the supporting cast, which is abnormal for your books. Rucka seems to actually give a damn about meaningful characterization and takes great strides getting us to know the likes of Ozzie, the good cop half-heartedly tracking you down, Norah the cute and nosy pain-in-the-ass Daily Bugle reporter, and Rachel Alves the marine who had a truckload of family and friends gunned down on her wedding night which is the essential catalyst behind your recent dissemination of punishment. Rucka's crafted a larger story running in the background, and at times, foreground, here and these cast members actually play a critical and supportive role in it. You’ve never been one to share much of the spotlight Frank, so I'm awfully proud of you for making room for other important people in your life.

There's the fact that you don't think. Well, of course you're thinking Frank, but Rucka never tells us exactly what thoughts are whizzing through your head like so many bullets. Instead, he shows us. We don't get to read little white squares filled with words that equal your inner monologue, we get to watch you act — and its left to us to reason out why you're doing what you're doing on the pages we behold.

And, while we're on the subject of your brooding terseness, I've noticed that you're not a big fan of verbal communication. Hell, in the first and sixth issue of your latest Punisher run you didn't say a single, solitary word. You just took care of Punisher business. In a recent interview with Rucka, he said that, for as long as he possibly can get away with it, we're never going to get any significant amounts of dialogue from you, or any precise revelations on your mental introspection. I've recently encountered some complaints on that pesky thing called the blogosphere about this this, but if we're honest here, I think we can all admit it's damn bold move by Mr. Rucka. Who has the time for words when you’re blowing off the faces of vile criminal goons and their pathetic henchmen anyway?

There's the fact that he's made you vulnerable. I remember a time when, if you'd taken that drop after the fallout of the Vulture fight in Punisher #3, you would have been 100% fully functioning and operational by the next issue. But here, Rucka's done went and crippled you for three issues already and even though issue #6 puts you back in the thick of it, I noticed you're still wearing that bandage on your eye. It's been over three months Frank! (in comic book time) If that's not some serious hurtin', I don't know what is.

Oh, and have I told you just how beautifully fantastic you're looking lately, Frankie boy? If Rucka is making you into something everyone should read, then Marco Checchetto and Matt Hollingsworth are bringing us the Punisher everyone should see. Checchetto brings his stark, rough around the edges look to his pencils while Hollingsworth gives us a bleak-tinged yet vivid palette of crisp colors (there is a lot of blood after all) to complement the murky slice of the Marvel universe that surrounds you. If anything, they are only emulating you Frank: kicking ass and taking names. Let's hope they stick around for awhile. Did I mention that you're looking a bit younger too? And ruggedly handsome, we mustn't forget that.

Another thing, I am absolutely loving that raggedy-ass homemade skeleton head you spray paint on your Kevlar vests. I'd say its much more accurate to the true spirit of your improvisational characterization. (i.e., always on the run, constructing weapons out of anything nearby, etc.) Plus, it's a much more frightening logo than the perfectly proportioned one you wore of yesteryear. That one had "I'm a nancy-boy perfectionist" written all over it. The new design says: "I'm not worried about how I look, all I've got time for is killing." A powerful message indeed.

Now, here we are Frank. I felt like singing your praises without giving you all away. No spoilers, no way, no sir. After all, mystique is kind of what you've built your reputation on. But I think you should be pleased with Greg Rucka for turning you into a character I, we, can get behind. As far as I'm concerned he's taken that bloated, overwrought, over-commercialized Punisher I remember from way back when and re-branded you as one with a serious dose of some serious mettle. You should get down on your knees and thank Mr. Rucka for saving your criminal-killing ass and making you relevant again. At least, that is, when you’re not force-feeding a hot mess of lead to a starving and felonious breaker of the law.

Sincerely,

A newly minted admirer