Here on the blog we’ve examined many of the thick, meaty Golden Age tomes that once upon a time youths of yore could buy for a mere dime. Though the quality of the storytelling within could be iffy, especially when read through our jaded post-millennium eyes, there was a lot of bang for your ten cents — in terms of quantity, if not in quality. Can you get odd, clunky, glorious miniature biographies of personages as diverse as Eddie Cantor and Will Rogers in the modern rack fodder? Not really, no. Even if you’d want to.
Heroic Comics was no different from its kinsmen, and it had badass painted covers like the Harvey Fuller one seen above. An American destroyer explosively sinking its Japanese naval opponent? Please tell us more, comic book! Read more…
Either Obi-Wan Kenobi is admiring that Stormtrooper’s Star Wars poster, or he’s about to lop his head off
Of all the useless tchotchkes found in this old-timey ad for Star Wars merch, the “Darth Vader Communicator” has to be the most worthless. Nothing says “Dark Lord of the Sith before there was such a thing as a Dark Lord of the Sith” quite like a pendant mirror. Maybe the Stormtrooper deserves to be beheaded by Ben Kenobi just for the fashion blunder.
Can Steve Rogers triumph over the combined motorized might of Hell’s Satan’s Angels — and his own demons? – Captain America #128
Marvel’s resident man out of time himself, Captain America, struggled for a long while to find his way in the strange world he woke up in — the world he never made, as it were. Though thawing out in the new millennium with its internet and smartphones would be tough in a science-fictionish way for Steve Rogers, the 1960s milieu he worked away around in after the Avengers depopsicled him was even more bizarre, as hippies and their counterculture tried to tear down the stiff society that the old-timey Captain called home. We all empathize with him and his plight, even if we can’t fully comprehend his Rip Van Winkle/Awakenings tribulations.
His internal struggle is never more on display than it is in this issue. And, twist of twists, in the end he finds himself battling to protect the very longhairs that think he and his upright world are so totally Squaresville. Read more…
Before Charles Atlas “Made a Man out of Mac,” he turned himself into America’s “Most Perfectly Developed Man”
The Charles Atlas exercise regimen is mostly remembered for the omnipresent ads that appeared in comic books for decades. They depicted (with several slight variations) a scrawny young weakling named Mac, who gets sand kicked in his face on the beach, has his horrid, shrewish girlfriend stolen from him by the beefy bully, then does the Atlas Dynamic Tension workouts and returns to the site of his humiliation to wreak his muscular revenge. They were great, definitive of the genre, and even inspired a comic book character of their own. The above ad from 1945 is a prior, more self-absorbed incarnation of the sales pitch, touting Atlas’s personal journey from broomstick to sculptor’s model — still in good old sequential art. It’s a little more narcissistic, though you have to love the “Husky He-Man” verbiage.
One question: Was Atlas America’s Most Perfectly Developed Man or the World’s Most Perfectly Developed Man? Because this ad claims both. Did he just assume the latter after winning the former, not considering that there might be a more refined physique on the other side of the globe? A bodybuilding Borat poised to knock him from his perch?
Spider-Man “Spoils a Snatch,” and we can be forgiven misinterpretation in light of Hostess’ track record
Lest we forget, Hostess ads have bombarded us before with ads featuring Wonder Woman and the prominent usage of the words “pussy” and “booby.” Not in their vulgar senses, mind you, but still — their mere presences titillates. So readers are excused for thinking “snatch” in this case doesn’t mean “grab and run,” but something a bit more vulvular.
Anyway, enjoy some cupcakes. And contemplate how Spider-Man would go about spoiling a snatch. Or not.
They bring a knife, you bring some gum. That’s the Hubba Bubba way.
You might or might not like Hubba Bubba gum, but you have to admire their commitment to this “gumfighting” bit, devoting the bulk of an entire page’s fine print to elucidating the various wonders that make theirs the most efficient bubble product on the market. Comic lovers can certainly appreciate this more than book-destroying ads — though you have to wonder what space-age carcinogens were used to get the bubble residue to peel off your face with ease. Now with 100% more Teflon!
Sad confession: I can’t blow bubbles. So the joys of gumfighting are forever denied me. Alas.
The End of the New (Universe), Part 3 – The War
Our brief three-part look into the falling action of the New Universe has come to the last stop, the terminus of a shared world’s bumpy ride. Did Marvel’s grand experiment go out with a whimper or a bang? That’s the question. Though the final installment is entitled The War, we can take nothing for granted. This last gasp was a square-bound, four-issue mini-series, one that built on its two prestige predecessors: The Pitt and The Draft. The former was disappointing, while the latter was better, if not exactly scintillating.
The War? It, like the cohabited universe it closed down, was a mixed bag. Read more…
Stay gold, Cylon Centurion. Stay gold.
We’ve really lost something since the days of mail-in proofs of purchase specials and 4-6 weeks for delivery. There was the sweet agony of waiting for your precious toy to arrive at your front door, for kids an early lesson in how the build is almost always better than the actual event. I can still recall fondly the anticipation for my Anakin Skywalker (the Sebastian Shaw Anakin, not the later, lesser Anakins) figure to come in the mail — even if it was underwhelming in its execution. When you finally got what you wanted, you felt like something had really been accomplished, and that’s been lost in the era of instant gratification. (Truth: I bought something on eBay last week, and when it took more than three days to arrive I was ready to call out the National Guard. Wherethehellisit?)
Would a barely poseable Gold Cylon Centurion have the same allure with next-day delivery?
The time Superboy met Bonnie and Clyde (Yes, that Bonnie and Clyde) (I think) – Superboy #149
Silver Age Superboy stories have an ingrained insufferability to them, made all the worse by the titular hero’s secret identity being ostensibly secure in Smallville, a tiny town where everyone knows everybody else. It’s not like Clark Kent can just meld into the bustling city streets of Metropolis in his adopted hometown. Throw in the silliness of the era, and you have some tough storytelling to digest. Like in this comic, in which Clark’s clandestine occupation is a hair’s breadth away from being uncovered throughout. It’s enough to overwhelm even the senses-shattering, overwrought perspective of the Neal Adams cover.
Oh, about that cover. Yes, Bonnie and Clyde are in this. Yes, the notorious outlaws, not two people calling themselves such. Bonnie Parker. Clyde Barrow. Superboy. Be there. Read more…
Spot all the things wrong in this Fruit Stripe Gum sweepstakes ad, even in the Terms and Conditions
Though it’s not the easiest task to spot all the things wrong in a picture depicting a world wherein Day-Glo zebras drive locomotives, such was the gist of this old Fruit Strip Gum sweepstakes. Read more…
Trading Card Set of the Week – Max Headroom (1986, Topps)
When those of us born in the 1970s and 1980s are old and gray, there are going to be a number of things hard to explain to the young children gathered at our knees. Chief among the cultural oddities simultaneously symbolic of the 1980s and pure distilled products of its cultural zeitgeist is Max Headroom, the creepy, stuttering, funny, literal talking head who got his start in Great Britain before crossing the pond to hawk soda and star in a short-lived prime-time series.
“Grandpa, can you explain Max Headroom for us?”
“Well, um, that’s a hard one. But hey, I have these bubble gum cards. They might help.”
“What are bubble gum cards?”
“…” Read more…
Oh, I get it. They’re rich in the sweet sense, not in the financial sense. Oh Clark Bars, you devils you.
That said, this is about as basic as candy advertising gets. “Here’s our lineup of chocolate bars. Your move, sweet-toothed consumer.”
Though I can’t say I’ve ever been a fan of Alice Cooper’s music — more from lack of exposure than distaste — I’ve always been enthusiastic about him as an entertainer. It’s hard not to like the cut of his jib. Not only has he always struck one as smarter than the average bear, as well as a genuinely nice, humble guy, he’s also managed to pull off a spectacular cross-media trifecta of sorts. He played the lead zombie bum in John Carpenter’s cult classic horror film, Prince of Darkness. He had that great cameo in the first Wayne’s World movie, wherein he gave a backstage primer to Mike Myers and Dana Carvey about Milwaukee’s name and its socialist mayors. Finally, and most importantly, he spent some time in the corner of Jake “The Snake” Roberts during the height of the World Wrestling Federation’s Hulkamania era — at the legendary WrestleMania III, no less. After Roberts’ match, Cooper threw Damien the snake onto the Honky Tonk Man’s manager, “The Mouth of the South” Jimmy Hart. Because why not? Life’s rich pageant, you know? That he rejected Raquel Welch in her prime is a cherry on top. Winning.
Yet his career hasn’t been an unalloyed romp. Cooper, like so many rock stars, has had his struggles with booze. Wasn’t the first, won’t be the last. But in the proud tradition of personal difficulties transformed into art, Cooper’s alcoholism and subsequent sanitarium stay formed the subject matter for one of his albums, 1978’s From the Inside. And From the Inside was the subject matter for, of all things, the 50th issue of Marvel Premiere. Read more…
Anzio Beach = Fun?
As they stormed the beaches of Anzio, not knowing whether or not the Germans were going to cut them down like ducks in a row, I wonder how many Allied soldiers thought “Gee, I bet they’re going to make a model kit out of this some day — and call all this fun. Complete with metaphors about delayed-action bombs.” Probably not a lot.
Godzilla vs. Red Ronin vs. Dum Dum Dugan’s Hat, Monster vs. Mecha vs. Chapeau – Godzilla #5
As many of you by now have heard and/or read, the proof of concept teaser for the new Godzilla movie “leaked” a few days ago. The quotes are because all leaks like these are the best publicity studios can have, giving even the lamest of future releases the aura of scarcity, of desirability — even of quality. But this one was spectacular, maybe the best film teaser seen since the Terminator 2 assembly line short ignited Pavlovian drooling in the early 1990s. Though Warner Bros. has pulled it from a number of sites where it was posted, you can still see it *coughcough* here and there. Odd lesson: J. Robert Oppenheimer’s haunted voice (an aural window to a haunted soul) and Ligetti’s Requem from 2001: A Space Odyssey have a spectacular synergy. When the big guy’s hulking arm swings into frame as the sopranos’ shrieking reaches its apogee, well, if you don’t get chills, your love of genre filmmaking might be nonexistent. Rubber suits and Matthew Broderick are forgotten. Yes, Lucy has snatched this football away from us time and time again, but you have to have hope.
In honor of this spectacular Godzilla teaser, today we’re going to have a gander at a spectacular Godzilla comic. In which he fights Red Ronin. And in which Dum Dum Dugan’s hat appears. As stated: spectacular. Read more…
Jared
blog into mystery 