Sure, I’ve lamented the depressing-down of pop culture over the past 30 years.  And yes, we in the social media field often debate whether or not what we’re doing has “become mainstream.”

But what (or where?) is the mainstream?  And when does a creation of the culture become popular enough to qualify as “pop culture” — and to whom?

If we start with Wikipedia (because we must), we learn the following:

“Mainstream is, generally, the common current of thought of the majority….  It is a term most often applied in the arts (i.e., music, literature, and performance). This includes:

• something that is available to the general public;
• something that has ties to corporate or commercial entities.

As such, the mainstream includes all popular culture, typically disseminated by mass media. The opposite of the mainstream are subcultures, countercultures, cult followings, underground cultures and (in fiction) genre.”

Given this definition, let’s deconstruct it further.  For example, the opening sentence: “Mainstream is, generally, the common current of thought of the majority.”  Thus, in order to be considered “mainstream,” a thing must be thought of:

• commonly
• currently
• by the majority

For example, swing music was “current” 60 years ago, but it’s not “commonly” enjoyed “by the majority” today, so we can conclude that swing music is no longer mainstream — although it once was.  This means that mainstream has a shelf life dependent upon the immediate popular tastes of “the majority,” as epitomized by fashion.  (“When does something become retroactively cool?” is a discussion for another time.)

But there’s another spot of vagueness in the whole debate: how do we define “the majority”?  Are we talking about the entirety of the world’s population?  If so, then only the most basic concepts like food, water and shelter can be considered mainstream, since I doubt most of sub-Saharan Africa has ever seen Star Wars or an NFL game.  Or maybe we mean the majority of Western (or Eastern) culture, AKA the majority of geographically separate citizens who still share a common lifestyle?  Or do we mean the majority of a certain country, a specific gender or an age-defined demographic?

NASCAR is mainstream among the red half of America.  Richard Dawkins is an international expert and best-selling author whom the majority of NASCAR fans have probably never read.  Have either of them reached a critical mass of popularity across enough demographic segments to be considered “mainstream”?  (Can something ever be mainstream if it polarizes the population, or must it be universally embraced?)

Iron Man, a film based on a semi-popular comic book (which is a literary subculture, according to the above definition), is the 53rd largest-grossing film of all-time, out-earning all of the X-Men films, which are based on a better-known property.  Since film is mass media, whereas comic books are not, does that mean the character of Iron Man has finally escaped the alternative media ghetto and can now be considered mainstream?  Or would he have to reach the heights of Spider-Man 3 at #13 all-time, or The Dark Knight at #4?  What’s the Mendoza line for the mainstream?

CNN and Nightline regularly quote tweets from their Twitter followers.  Facebook helped power the “Super Duper Tuesday” election extravaganza in February 2008.  Does mass media’s use of a social media tool mean that specific tool can now be considered mainstream?  Or does one tool’s reach raise awareness of social media itself to mainstream heights?

Perhaps none of these questions have clearly-defined answers, and this is all an exercise in semantics.  But if we’re interested in how the world around us perceives what we’re doing — and how we’re influenced by what the world around us is doing — it helps to understand our own presumptions and expectations.  Otherwise, you’ll never know when those UGGs you insist on wearing have gone out of style.

Remember the ’80s?  Those were my formative years, so their influence is hard to shake, but I can’t help but recall the ’80s as the last time in Western culture when fun was generally acceptable.

I grew up reading comic books like Batman and Spider-Man, and watching cartoons like G. I. Joe and Transformers.  And while each of those entertainments occasionally intertwined with “adult themes” — Crisis on Infinite Earths, Kraven’s Last Hunt, the 2-part “There’s No Place Like Springfield” episode of G. I. Joe when Shipwreck is brainwashed into believing he has a wife and child who then dissolve into ectoplasm and drive him insane — their tone was generally upbeat, optimistic and action-packed.  Sure, bad things might happen, but you were always a “G. I. Joe-teams-up-with-Cobra-to-defeat-a-mutual-enemy” moment away from overcoming cynicism with the possibility of a bright new future where our differences weren’t so great, and everyone could just get along — at least until the next episode.

Then the ’90s happened.

Suddenly, the garish burlesque of hair metal was rendered immediately irrelevant by grunge, and pop culture never looked back.  The rarefied ’80s tendency by some artists to take cultural icons more seriously — Watchmen, The Dark Knight, Batman: Year One — was just the preamble to a new generation of brooding, tortured anti-heroes incapable of enjoying life — and, by extension, making the enjoyment of life seem childish.

And now, here we are at the dawn of 2010, a quarter-century removed from the heyday of Saturday morning cartoons and stories with happy endings.  Movie superheroes are barred from wearing multicolored costumes.  Video games have evolved from technicolor adventures into something more sinister.  Grunge and gangster rap have never truly relinquished their grip on the pop radio culture, resulting in the enduring popularity of ’80s nights — the last time anyone could dance without feeling guilty.

Recent cinematic reboots of Batman, Spider-Man, The X-Men, G. I. Joe and Transformers have maximized the eye candy, but they consciously eschew any semblance of fun, instead focusing on survivalist action.  To be “cool” in this new era is to be as emotionally detached and battle-ready as possible, which means there’s no time for friendship, romance or self-expression — unless all of these happen as desperate accidents while you’re doing something more important, like saving the world from giant killer robots.  (Even the new Freddy Krueger lacks the vaudevillian sense of humor that made the original Nightmare on Elm Street series worth seeing through covered eyes, now reduced to another joyless exercise in pathological revenge.)

It’s not like others haven’t noticed, either.  Half the humor from ultra-satires like South Park, Family Guy and Robot Chicken is derived from contrasting the innocence of youth with the stark vagaries of reality.  But as cynical as their humor is, it’s also wistful, reminding us of a time when high school wasn’t a hotbed of sociopaths and wrestlers didn’t try to murder each other.

Sure, the ’80s were absurd.  But they wouldn’t resonate as strongly as they do today if they weren’t also one thing that modern culture refuses to be: unashamedly, unabashedly and unironically fun.

Disagree?

Then think back a moment to the cultural icons of our recent past.  Would Star Wars have been a generational touchstone without a heart at the center of its android shell?  Sure, Luke’s the brooding one with the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders, but Han Solo’s the rule-breaking class clown who gets the girl.

Didn’t we learn anything from that?

This weekend, I attended my first Small Press Expo, which is (according to its website) North America’s Premiere Independent Cartooning and Comic Book Arts Festival.  My friends Rachel and Josh went last year and they loved it, and since Baltimore is only an hour away from the event’s Bethesda ballroom, I joined them on this year’s trip down from Pittsburgh.

Being surrounded by hundreds of comic book creators, cartoonists, illustrators, publishers, writers, critics and fans was truly exhilarating, and not just because I’m a longtime comics fan who appreciates the indie scene.  A roomful of inspiration, creativity and self-actualization is naturally infectious, and meeting other creative people always makes me want to create something myself.  Thus, I end up leaving these types of events with a million new thoughts swirling in my head (and, in this case, a mini-comic about mermaid love gone wrong).

Some things I noticed, which may be applicable to your event / business / frame of mind:

People respect you when you do it yourself. Regardless of how talented you are, people admire anyone with the pluck to try something on their own, much less anyone who can earn a living on their own terms.  “Being an artist” is a universally romantic yet seldom-realized dream, so an event like this gives everyone who attends a chance to support those people who are brave (or delusional) enough to make their own rules.  (That said, it does help if you’re actually talented; people are far more inclined to support someone whom they personally think deserves to “make it.”)

Making money is allowed.  (Encouraged, even.) Unlike other web content creators who seem reluctant or unable to charge for their work, the vendors at SPX are unashamed to charge for their creations — and the attendees are unoffended.  Since everyone involved is either self-published or allied with a small press, all purchases help support people who make art for a living.  Nearly everyone I saw had purchased something, and lots of people were sitting happily on the floor outside the main exhibition hall, reading through their fresh stacks of brand new comics.

If there’s something for everyone, everyone leaves happy. No matter your tastes, this event had a book for you.  Vendors were selling comics about super heroes, sci-fi, fantasy, comedy, relationships, biography, parody, ninjas, animals, kids, horror, history, surfing, pornography and pin-up girls — and everything in-between.  If you couldn’t find something worth your time at SPX, you weren’t paying attention.  (How many events can you honestly say that about?)

Develop a coverage strategy when attending large events. Since this was my first time to SPX (and since I was conveniently broke and therefore unable to indulge my appetite for reading material), I was content to wander the floor and observe.  Rachel made two passes through the room — once to reconnoiter without buying anything, and then a second swoop to make her actual purchases.  And Josh beelined directly for the books he already knew he wanted in advance, making all his major purchases in the first half hour and then returning to explore the $5-and-under offerings.  Having pre-set expectations helped each of us find what we wanted, and we all left happy.*

There’s only so much time to talk. Josh zipped through the event without engaging anyone he didn’t want to talk to, stopping only at the tables of the artists whose work he already admired or whose work kept his attention for longer than a moment.  On the other hand, Rachel and I moseyed from table to table, inevitably getting embroiled in conversations with the artists about their work, their lives and their print quality.  If you’re in a hurry and don’t want to get trapped in endless conversations, be spatially aware of when a vendor has no one else nearby to speak to and nothing else physically to do — those are the times you’re most likely to get waylaid.

Longevity trumps talent. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: if you keep doing something long enough, even if you’re an average talent, you’ll eventually be respected as a veteran.  You can’t help but acquire knowledge over the years, and that wisdom — coupled with your obvious hard-nosed grit — will earn you generations of fans who admire you simply for fighting the good fight.  (Again, it helps to actually be talented, but it helps even more to get out of bed every morning and do whatever it takes to keep going.  Talent is singular, but tenacity is something we all like to believe we can achieve; when you do, you become inspirational.)

Different price points provide fans with different opportunities to support you. Dedicated fans are happy to pay $20 or more for your work.  People who’ve never heard of you (but like what they see) would prefer to pay less.  And products under $5 let people take a chance on your work without incurring much risk, or to support you fiscally even if they’re not your biggest fans artistically.

Be personable. I realize that people who create comics for a living are trained to express themselves non-verbally, but events like this are a showcase of talent and personality.  As interested as I am in your work, I’d rather talk to you for thirty seconds than watch you ink a page of your next issue.  I can always buy that issue later; I can’t talk to you again until next year.  (I know, I know: “There’s a thing called the Internet.”  But it’s not the same.)

Give me a reminder. People moving through an event like this are going to see a lot of media all at once.  They’ll be overwhelmed.  Provide them with a freebie so they can find you online later and learn more about your work at a time when they’re less informationally challenged.

We need more events like this. Not just for comics, but for all fields, artistic and beyond.  The communal energy of SPX is reminiscent of the kinetic energy at the first PodCamp, which started out as a meet-up for people who make web media.  The opportunity for like-minded individuals to meet in a common space and share their expertise with peers is rare, but the benefits — both professionally and intellectually — are worth the effort.

*  Admittedly, I didn’t have nearly enough expendable cash for an artistic smorgasbord like this.  Judging by the line waiting to access the ATM, neither did a lot of other people.  I should start a trust fund for next year.

Yesterday’s news that Disney is buying Marvel has touched off a firestorm of deliberation.  Whether the move will help Marvel in the long run is debatable, but any serious consideration of the business implications is irrelevant; it’s the potential Disney-Marvel crossovers that have everyone’s geek flag flying high.

With so many icons now under their roof, from Mickey Mouse and Donald Duck to Spider-Man and the X-Men, the  mashup opportunities are almost infinite.  As such, I felt compelled to offer ten possibilities we probably won’t be seeing.

1. Secret Eeyorigins — Everyone’s favorite depressive donkey narrates the origin stories of Marvel’s hottest heroes!  First Issue: The Silver Surfer! (“Wasn’t much of a power cosmic anyway…”)
2. God of Big Thunder Mountain — The waiting time for this classic Disneyland ride quintuples when the mine cars screech to a halt at the mountain’s summit, where riders are treated to a 45-minute choreographed fight sequence between Thor and Loki, set to the music of Queen.
3. Toy Story 4: Endgame — Buzz Lightyear’s catchphrase “To infinity — and beyond!” is finally revealed to be his brainwashed directive from Thanos, who tricks Buzz into giving him the Infinity Gauntlet, which he then uses to annihilate all life in the universe.  (Woody’s attempts to counter with the Ultimate Nullifier prove futile.)
4. Punisher War Journal: Tigger Happy — Convinced that a talking orange tiger couldn’t possibly be that happy without nonstop access to crystal meth, Frank Castle pays a visit to the Hundred Acre Wood.  Oh bother.
5. Space Mountain Redux — The Magic Kingdom’s only vaguely serious ride becomes downright terrifying after unplanned attacks by the Brood.
6. The Mighty Ducks 4: Puck Strikes Back — Emilio Estevez’s plucky adolescents are in over their heads yet again, but this time they get a hand from an unlikely ally: Puck, the Canadian midget from Alpha Flight.  Hilarity — and a moral about the unconditional acceptance of little people — ensues.
7. Herbie Goes to Genosha — When America’s only sentient Volkswagen is revealed to be a mutant, his jovial demeanor and deft cornering ability prove to be no match for the Sentinels.
8. Disney Princesses in the Savage Land — A lame excuse for undersexed Imagineers to draw Snow White in a leopard-print thong, nimbly escaping pterodactyls.  Also, Baloo shows up for no reason.
9. Chicken Little 2: The Kree-Skrull War — The element of surprise is almost lost, but Earth once again refuses to heed Chicken Little’s warning because “the Skrulls are coming” sounds far too much like “the sky is falling” for anyone to care.
10. Ichabod Crane: Ghost Rider — ‘Nuff said.

I read a blog post from Elizabeth Shugg that raises very valid points about how social media just might be missing the mark.  I recommend reading her entire post, but if you’re pressed for time, the nutshell version is this: Why is so much of social media purposely over the heads of the very people who NEED to understand it in order for social media to succeed?

Elizabeth asks six specific questions in her post.  Rather than overwhelm her comments field, I’ve opted to answer them here.  (If you’re in a hurry, I’ve highlighted my key points.)

1. Who exactly are the social media “experts?” What is a typical profile in terms of their experience and education?

Because the barrier to entry is so low, anyone with a blog or a Twitter account can claim to be a “social media expert.”  Like all reputations, the proof is in the work.  If you’re interacting with an alleged expert, know what YOUR criteria for being an “expert” would be, and then ask questions / do research to verify whether that person actually knows what he / she is talking about.

2. Who are the social media consultants directing their advice to? Other consultants? It seems mainly marketing and publicity professionals comment on these blogs, but rarely do I read input from representatives of other business departments.

Due to a need for validation, social media consultants often get trapped in a conversation loop with their peers. From the outside, it looks like the equivalent of 20 guys talking about which Green Lantern is their favorite*; if you’re not “in the know,” you’re never going to enter that conversation.

Also complicating the issue are elements like traffic, page rank, reach, etc.  The tools that measure these aspects of a website’s clout are weighed toward the people who know how to use those tools — namely, other tech-savvy people. So for a social media consultant to be taken seriously, he / she needs to court the attention of the people who can drive up those numbers and help that website stand out.

And yet, ironically, social media consultants won’t have jobs if they can’t also explain these geek-friendly processes in layman’s terms. If someone can’t speak at both levels, they’re going to have a tough time being successful.

3. Is it possible to measure the demographics of Twitter followers?  And if you have thousands of followers, how do you find the time to get know who they really are?

It’s not currently possible to measure the demographics of your Twitter followers, partly because Twitter itself doesn’t even measure its users demographics.  That time will doubtlessly come.

As for “getting to know your followers,” that’s rarely the point of anyone using Twitter for business.  Despite all the talk about “joining the conversation,” most businesses still use social media as a megaphone to broadcast their message to the public. Any “listening” is usually done from the POV of damage control.  There are exceptions to this technique, but they’re few and far between — and, ironically, are sometimes chided by observers as a case of that business or person being “unprofessional” or “off-message.”

4. Everyone agrees Twitter is a great tool in the marketing toolbox, but it seems like some consultants see it as more than that? If so, why, and how?

It depends on how you use Twitter.  If it’s just a megaphone, fine.  But if you actually *do* take the time to listen, learn, interact and evolve along with your fellow conversants, Twitter becomes a mix of water cooler, newspaper, comedy club and self-help resource. Or, if you’re a business that can afford to allocate someone’s time to monitor and interact with customers on Twitter, you can build a deeper relationship with those people — and receive incredibly valuable feedback in the process.

5. What is the proper protocol when it comes to following people and businesses on Twitter?

That depends on your end goal.  If you just want to be heard, follow everyone under the presumption that they’ll follow you back.  If you have a specific audience in mind, only follow people in that niche.  And if you’re just using Twitter as a personal outlet, only follow the accounts of people you know and / or consider interesting.

6. Regarding blogs, how important is juxtaposing keywords in a headline just to increase SEO? As journalism major in college, I was coached to write engaging headlines that entice readers. Web 2.0’s keyword-laden headlines don’t always work for me. Could this be the case for an audience of business leaders as well?

I’m no SEO expert, but I will say this: SEO is often a gimmick meant to make up for mediocre content.  A well-written headline does the job of SEO simply by being interesting and compelling, which brings in traffic — which is what SEO is all about. (Cue the SEO experts who will tell me that SEO is a positive element of *any* website, regardless of how compelling or efficient that site is to begin with; that’s still ignoring the central issue of actual quality.)

That’s my POV.  What’s yours?  (And if you’re interested in these types of discussions, be sure to follow Elizabeth Shugg‘s blog as well.)

* Hal Jordan.