In an earlier draft of this I apologized for my seeming obsession with bashing Rob Liefeld. I have since stricken that and offer no apologies because, even though he is the whipping boy of comic book fans every time he comes up it's obvious why. From his business decisions to his laughably bad stories to his unprofessionalism to the fact that the one area where he possesses anything that could be considered a skill "art". (And believe me the internet has archives that challenge that assertion.) So me even suggesting that he has some skill there if anything threatens my creditability with comicbook fans for being too generous to Rob Liefeld. Which is the point, the one point I argue that he degree of skill suggesting the possibility of one day showing talent. That position puts me on the fringe. So I'm giving up all pretense, I will almost certainly be bashing Liefeld every time he comes up. I would like it to be clear that's not simply of the sake of bashing him. Because I could list all the comments and antics such as his outrage after creating countless forgettable characters that he wholly owns, he publicly loss it when one of his creations that marvel owns was revealed to be gay. Or, repeat the hilarious observation that the first character he did when he left was one that looked like himself, was leader of a celebrity superhero team, and was named Shaft. But I'm not going to make any further remarks like that because as fun as that would be this series is not dedicated to Rob Liefeld and everything he's done wrong. This is about comics, where he is a player and he has done a lot of things wrong. And even then the snide remarks are only because of virtually every time he comes up he is in some way connected to something that defies common sense or human decency.
— SFDebris Rise and Fall of the Comic Empire Part 3: Image Problem
Liefeld, you're not an artist...
— Part of the theme song from Atop the Fourth Wall
"You know what? Even if this dude weren’t Quadzilla there’s no way he’d be able to put his legs together with all those pouches and garters and whateverthefucks. Jesus, look how high up that one band around his leg is. What purpose could that possibly serve? His pants are so uncomfortably tight that his groin is puckering into some sort of overachieving asterisk. His belt is juuuuuuuust under his nipples. The real capper, though, is the kneepads. What the fuck must go through Liefeld’s head when he’s drawing a character? “Yep, crew cut, I’ll put Boba Fett’s rocket on his back. Hmm, oh, GOTTA go with the metal shoulderpads and enormous Run-D.M.C. gold rope chain. Okay, belt…uh…pouchespouchespouchespouchespouchespouches leg things, oh, KNEEEEEEPADSSSSSS yessss.” In conclusion, I hate Rob Liefeld and he should be thrown in a well."
"A fun Liefeld drinking game: take a shot for every pouch he draws on a character. Oh great, now you have alcohol poisoning."
— Progressive Boink, again.
"In the mid-90's we Mortal Kombat'ed everything. I'm as guilty as anyone..."
"There is a great dichotomy...There's either some great and generous story about [Liefeld] or you will hear some unbelievable thing like, 'How is he not in jail if he did that?' There is no middle ground."