Trading Card Set of the Week (Special Mustache and Chest Hair Edition) – Magnum, P.I. (Donruss, 1983)
Magnum. P.I is right next to Twin Peaks on my personal Mount Rushmore of television shows. I make no apologies for this. You really couldn’t find two series more different in their approach than the long-running Hawaii hijinks of the eminently likable Thomas Sullivan Magnum IV and the short-lived odd splendor of David Lynch’s murder mystery masterpiece, but they nevertheless both arrive at the point of awesome — if by different routes. And make no mistake, Magnum, P.I. was all kinds of awesome. It’s aged well. You revisit it, and it’s like you’re basking in the warm Hawaiian sun, right alongside the Ferrari-driving Magnum. Top down, baby.
And, by God, it had bubble gum cards. Really. Read more…
Show off photos of your kids and John Wayne(?) with this dazzling pocket picture holder
Apparently there was an epoch in American history so dark, the cheap plastic photo sleeves we take for granted in modern department store wallets could be an enticement to subscribe to Dell comic books. We have come far as a people.
It’s a testament to John Wayne’s distinctive features that his mug is instantly recognizable amongst the sample celebrity photo lineup. I don’t know how many people have ever carried pictures of the whale-hating, Hatari!-starring Wayne, but if that floats your boat, there you go.
I recall having a Warlord action figure as a kid. He was likely bought for me because of his hypertrophied, bow-legged similarities to the Masters of the Universe line, which I was all agog for. However, not being part of that lineage, he was promptly consigned to the shadowy bottom of the toy box. The otherworldly adventures of Mike Grell’s bearded, sword-wielding, very nude creation were unknown to me at that point, I guess. That and I was a bratty toy snob. Probably more of the latter.
Anyway, I had no idea at the time that there was an entire “Lost World of the Warlord” line of Remco toys at Kmart focused on DC’s lesser heroes. Not only did you have Deimos, Mikola and Machiste, all supporting Warlord characters, but also Arak — yes, the Son of Thunder — and DC’s Hercules. (Not to be confused with this Hercules. Or that Hercules. Or that Hercules.) I guess you could combine them with your Super Powers toys (You Decide!), and have a company Christmas party or something. Or not. Whatever.
I don’t know — I think I’d prefer a Spider-Man Aurora equivalent to the Lone Ranger on a rearing Silver. Though I’m intensely curious about what secrets Tonto is learning from his eagle pal Taka.
Piss off your parents with the sprawling, entire-floor-covering Go & Grow set from Motorific
Before there was suburban sprawl, there was bedroom sprawl, as children’s elaborate car playsets grew and morphed and glommed and took over vast swaths of home floorspaces. Though I never had one of these Motorific sets (or others of similar design), a friend of mine and I once put together a gigantic Lego moonbase in a spare bedroom at my grandmother’s house, and it was a stunning, heart-wrenching moment when, after weeks of us adding on, she finally put her foot down (in a nice, grandmotherly way) and said it had to go. Much sad dismantling ensued, with fierce rumination on the injustice of it all. I can imagine these Motorific thingamabobs generated similar domestic scenes. I swear, if I step on that thing on more damn time….
Note: This ad is the first and last time the phrase “The automatic service center adds excitement” has ever been used. In the history of the world. Ever. (In fairness, they at least didn’t close it with an exclamation point.)
General Zod and Faora, brought to glorious Phantom Zone life by Carmine Infantino – DC Comics Presents #73
This is a highly treasured book for me. I was lucky enough to come of comics reading age in the mid-1980s, and one of my favorite titles at the time was The Flash. Though we didn’t know it at the time, that series was winding down towards its conclusion in issue #350, and the titular hero’s subsequent fatal, universe-saving sacrifice in Crisis on Infinite Earths. And Carmine Infantino, the creator of the Silver Age Flash (a fact unknown to me at the time), was back pulling the artistic oars as the final overarching storyline stretched its way towards its bittersweet terminus. Who else should it have been?
This was one of the shining lights of these last days (for a long while) of Barry Allen: that it became a long-form soap opera in the best sense of that genre, and with a man present at the creation bringing it all home. If you recall, the Flash had (apparently) killed his longtime nemesis, the Reverse-Flash, who had (apparently) killed Barry Allen’s beloved wife Iris. He became a fugitive from justice, had his membership in the Justice League questioned, and wound up convicted for his crime after a trial worthy of Perry Mason. It all played out month by month over the course of years. It was magnificent. Read more…
Skeletor appears to celebrate a touchdown in this ad for the Masters of the Universe Atari 2600 game
“The Power of He-Man” was one of the many Atari 2600 games that I wanted as a kid, but wasn’t blessed to have. I had to content myself with the simple bottom-to-top wizardry of the Spider-Man game, which locked him in a Groundhog Day of repeated Spider-Death. Alas. (Oddly enough, the other hero game that eluded my young grasp was the Atari game for fellow hero and occasional He-Man sparring partner, Superman.)
This ad would have been much better if Stinkor and Trap Jaw were backing up Skeletor instead of Tri-Klops and Beast Man. Just my opinion.
Spoiler: They blow the bottle around the penny. Indeed, the penny in a bottle is one of the lamest of the “impossible bottle” trope. Enjoy the Lincoln cent trivia, though.
In related news, Rosebud is a sled.
Here’s your free Detective Comics #27 reprint from Fig Newtons (lovable scamp in sweater not included)
One of the perils of running a comic book shop is having to look at someone’s treasured old collectibles and give them a lowball offer to unload them at your store. A corollary to that is bursting their bubble with a No, that’s not an actual Detective #27 dart. It’s a reprint from the Fig Newtons people — you know, the folks with the nonsensical treasure maps. I hope you can get your security deposit back for that Caribbean island. (This was much more common pre-internet, I’m sure.)
Incidentally, I used to love Apple Newtons, but I’m thoroughly convinced there were no actual apples used in their production. No apples were harmed in the making of this dunkable fruitish snack food.
It wasn’t long ago we looked at an issue of John Wayne’s eponymous Golden Age comic book, where the cover presented him as nothing less than a bare-chested, harpoon-wielding, whale-hating Ahab. From hell’s heart, I stab at thee…. Nothing so violent or mean here. No, Hatari! is one of Mr. Wayne’s more light-hearted romps, a Howard Hawks-directed affair that spawned the gentle “Baby Elephant Walk” theme (composed by none other than Henry Mancini). It’s an okay movie, and it had an okay comic. Read more…
Willy Wonka’s Magic Jumping Disc looks great and all, but still, he should probably keep his hands off the kids
All Gordon Jump had to woo Arnold in that “special” Diff’rent Strokes episode was a bike shop, video games and booze. The ever-creepy Willy Wonka, whether he looked like Gene Wilder or not, HAD A WHOLE DAMN CHOCOLATE FACTORY. He and his business truly were the Michael Jackson/Neverland Ranch of their day. So, if he doesn’t want to have his genitals photographed in a deposition, I suggest he keep his weirdo hands off the young people.
I’m sure the person with the burning car will appreciate that you called for help WITH YOUR TELEGRAPH SET
This is so stupid STOP Who would want this STOP Really STOP Helpful in emergencies my ass STOP You might as well shout out the window STOP
Memorial Day is a much-needed time for all Americans to pause and reflect on duty and sacrifice, and pay tribute in ways large and small. Surprise — it’s not just about parades, big box sales and firing up the grill. This is a comic book blog, so any tribute made here is necessarily diminutive, but the emotional scope of today’s subject matter is anything but. We’ve looked at several Gary Friedrich/Dick Ayers/John Severin Howling Commandos books over the few years of this site’s existence, and they’ve all been superbly crafted exemplars of the medium, credits to both their creators and the industry in general. And what comic character better embodies the tough, stubbly persona of the 20th century G.I than Nick Fury? Cover your eyes and pick any of the old Fury books out of a longbox, and you’re going to be A-OK, both in terms of quality and content. So we’ll go with one again this Memorial Day.
Today’s book, though? Today’s is something special. Truly. “The Deserter,” from issue #75 of Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos, is one of the better comic stories you’ll ever read. It packs a whopping double punch of layered psychological storytelling and supremely refined artwork. It harkens back to familiar historical incidents, both dramatized and all-too factual. It features a layout presentation far ahead of its time, presaging benchmark works like Watchmen. It’s emotionally searing in a way only the best tales can be.
It makes you proud to read and enjoy comics — if not, in this one instance, proud to be American. Not because of any shame heaped upon that nationality, but because of the frailty of the overall human condition and our inherent, nonsensical need to hurt each other. Without further ado….
Read more…
The space program of the 1960s inspired many things: books, movies, music, soaring flights or rhetoric, you name it. According to this ad, it was also a selling point for comic book bodybuilding courses. And, though rippling abdominals and engorged biceps might not be the most useful physical traits for a moonwalking astronaut, this ad has a secondary interest. The fist-wagging muscleman who dominates it is implied to be Ben Rebhuhn, the purveyor of this straight path to mighty muscles. But we’ve seen the same guy before, when he seemed to be George F. Jowett. Was this an old-timey bodybuilding stock photo? Was there a bodybuilding snake oil salesman out there, changing his name to avoid the law, creditors and ex-wives?
Chew on this as you’re developing your “legs of endless endurance.”
We’ve met the Beaverbear before, a fairly normal looking creature with an understandable love of Kraft Caramels. The Kangarooseal is another freak matter entirely. If you ever see one of these things in the wild, you have my permission to KILL KILL KILL IT.
Just where I’d want caramels stored: in a mucusy kangaroo pouch. Probably with an added dose of brine in the case of the Kangarooseal. YUM.
Jared
blog into mystery 