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Hoyvin-glavin, Miss Wonder Woman lady person! – The Adventures of Jerry Lewis #117

July 29, 2011

I loathe Jerry Lewis, or as close to loathe as I can get with a person that I’ve never met. I don’t care how much money he’s raised for muscular dystrophy over the years. Okay, maybe I do care, but I still find him offensively stupid. His one-time appeal utterly escapes me, even his teaming with the vastly more talented Dean Martin. As Colin Quinn once so eloquently jabbed on Weekend Update, Lewis is a man who made his fortune largely on the back of “falling down and making fun of retarded people.” Yeah. Hang your hat on that.

It pains me that his antics have polluted my beloved comic book medium. And yes, his sequential storytelling adventures are just as dumb as the rest of his oeuvre. Not only that, in this issue he drags poor Wonder Woman into his vortex of inanity. Granted, it’s the non-star-spangled panties wearing version of the character, but this cross-over is still wretched. What did poor Diana ever do to deserve such a punishment?

It is with profound repulsion that I present you with “Jerry Meets the New Wonder Woman” (the creative team isn’t listed inside, and I’ve had difficulties locating info on that — see below — so anyone with knowledge, please chime in):

It’s quite sad when Amazonian royalty is doing appearances at seedy dollar theaters. Could she reach Fergie-esque depths?

Jerry (with his nephew, who functions as a modified, pint-sized, urchiny Greek chorus) stalks WW for her autograph as she exits the theater. Much stammering ensues:

Did Jerry just piss himself? Am I wrong for thinking that?

Whatever the case, when he drapes himself over the water Walter Raleigh-style to let her majesty walk over him, Diana slips and injures her knee. As I said, this was a low ebb for Diana. It’s off to Paradise Island (via a handy dimensional portal of sorts) to see a doctor, who looks to be a refugee from the Seven Dwarves:

While Diana’s getting treatment she’s informed that an evil king (Zodor) has invaded the island in search of some sacred pearl, and has kidnapped her mother to further his nefarious schemes. And Jerry? Oh, he flops around the laboratory until he accidentally swallows a potion that makes him impervious to pain. This qualifies him as an ideal (really?) candidate to defeat the evil king and his henchmen:

The opening battle, with Jerry dressed in the skin from the cover (it once belonged to Hercules) and fighting the dude with the HATE! button (Bulque), does NOT go well, and the potion quickly begins to wear off. Luckily, a big fat Amazon (there are such things?) has taken a liking to Jerry and steps in to finish off this brute in true hefty girl fashion:

The battle is won, but not the war. They still have to beat Zodor, and to do that Jerry’s going to have to lead Amazons into battle. Since he’s a man (we think), he’s going to need to climb into a dress and a wig. While he’s doing that, Diana recruits some vapid Themyscirian dames for his “army:”

It gets worse folks, because Jerry swallows a new potion, and this rush job doesn’t make him feel no pain. No, it makes him belch fire:

The battle is won, the dyspeptic Jerry can discard his Annette Funicello disguise, and he’s a hero of sorts:

Then Jerry and his nephew get beamed back to the U.S. Thanks, ladies. Aim for France next time.

The end.

This is what it is. The book is clearly intended for a younger audience, and it’s quite possible that the humor that so escapes me would roil others in peals of laughter. In that sense, this is a success. I guess. I still don’t like Jerry Lewis. Where’s my HATE! button?

On a completely unrelated note, Verizon has somehow managed to foul up my home internet service, making the maintenance of this blog quite difficult until it gets back up and running. They’re telling me I’ll have access to the interwebs again by Sunday. Color me skeptical. I hope to get some more posts done in the interim, but if I can’t, you now know the reason. I’ve already bombarded a call center in India with some choice salty language, and I fear there may be more of it in the near future, perhaps enough to sunder diplomatic relations between our two great peoples. Until next time…

5 Comments leave one →
  1. July 30, 2011 6:48 am

    Is Jerry really any more retarded than Adam Sandler in the Waterboy or in Happy Gilmore? Aside from the swearing and sexual situations, I don’t see much between them, and of course that’s due to the relative mores of the two eras.

    Lewis was a kid thing. Part of the humor was in being a kid old enough to see how stupid Jerry was. It gave us a sense of confidence; a realization that we were past the age when we did things as dumb as he did. And there are always a couple of gags in a JL movie that go right over the heads of the kids but would inevitably draw a chuckle from the adults.

    BTW, the pencil art is obviously by Oksner; not sure who did the inks.

  2. August 1, 2011 10:39 pm

    Definitely Oksner. Writer is probably Arnold Drake, but I’m just guessing. Check

    • August 1, 2011 11:27 pm

      Thanks for the writer suggestion. I checked but they didn’t have any info for this one.

  3. neill permalink
    August 3, 2011 8:36 pm

    And mind-bogglingly enough, Neal Adams did some covers for this series.

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