The SUPER HEROES ANNUAL 1982 - '84 - Plus SUPERMAN SPECTACULAR #1 & 2...

Images copyright DC COMICS

Over on another comics blog, the host refers to (amongst other things) LONDON EDITIONS MAGAZINES' 19 issue run of The SUPER HEROES.  He happened to mention in his comments section that he's never seen the 1983 and 1984 Annuals, nor the two card-covered Albums which were also issued.  So - this one's for him!  (And you!)

  

MISSING LINK SUNDAY (PART ELEVEN)...

Copyright REBELLION

Hang on to your hats, heroes, as once again we fling ourselves into the fray and catch up on what's happening in the life of The MISSING LINK.  Originally published in the pulsating pages of FANTASTIC way back in the late 1960s, this is a strip which withstands the test of time and deserves to be preserved for posterity (hopefully in a deluxe hardbacked volume, with the addition of colour).  Drawn by LUIS BERMEJO and written by ALF WALLACE, this adventure serial is a true classic - so make yourself a nice cuppa char and sit back and enjoy this trip into yesteryear.

COMPASS Of The STARS...

Long ago and far away, in a dimension which can be accessed only through the mystical portals of memory, I popped into the neighbourhood newsagents on my way to school one day and purchased a copy of TV CENTURY 21 #3.  Within this great comic, paradoxically dated a hundred years in the future, was a sheet of card from which could be pressed out a model of FIREBALL XL5.

When I got to school, before lessons began I sat and assembled the folded pieces into their predetermined shape while my teacher and classmates looked on, fascinated.  I wasn't one who particularly enjoyed being the object of of such rapt attention, but I was so engrossed in what I was doing that I paid them scant heed and just got on with it.  When I had finished and the teacher had expressed approbation for the fruits of my labour, lessons began, and although I couldn't tell you anything else that happened that day, that particular moment is a fond recollection nigh-on forty-eight years after the fact.

Relax - mine doesn't have 'Northernlad' stamped across it

I never saw that cardboard 'model' from childhood again until nearly twenty years later, when it was reproduced in black and white on the back cover of  S.I.G., a magazine devoted to the puppet programmes of GERRY ANDERSON.  I remember thinking that it was a shame it wasn't in colour and hoping that someone would one day get around to producing a proper facsimile of this free gift which I greatly coveted.

 

Well, almost three decades on, someone has finally done it.  Printed on card (though not perforated for pressing out), it enables nostalgists like myself to relive a part of our cherished childhood and bridge the span between past, present and future. Future?  Sure - after all, the comic was dated February 6th, 2065, so technically it's not due to be published for another fifty-three years.  Thanks to a rift in time and space, however, I managed to obtain a replacement for the actual comic a good while back.  It's immensely satisfying to finally be able to reunite it with a copy of its original free gift after so long a period.

Suddenly I'm an eager five year-old child once more, sitting in a chalk-dusty classroom in a different century - when the one we now live in was  the stuff of dreams and seemed too far away to even contemplate.

THE DEANO & BANDY SHOW - BEYOND A JOKE?

Images copyright Dundee Comics Tyrant

Recently, a well-respected cartoonist revealed that, as far as he understands things, one of the companies for which he freelances will no longer allow him to feature images of his own artwork on his blog, which he uses to promote the very publications they appear in.  Other artists (plural) apparently still do feature images (though I'm going by info gleaned from other sources) so, naturally enough this has led to discussion on various 'unofficial' fan sites as to what exactly the situation might be.

As usual, I was the 'Johnny-come-lately' to the table, but I expressed my opinion (as a comics buyer and collector) that this seemed to be a mean-spirited attitude for the company to take, as they would surely only benefit from any of their artists promoting the product - so why prevent them from doing so?  (Seems like a fair enough question to me.)

In the absence of any clear details or explanation as to why various contributors seemingly had a different understanding of what was going on, speculation arose as to whether certain cartoonists were operating under different conditions and whether there might be dissent between them, prompting one of them to deny such was the case.  (Which is fair enough I suppose.)  Unfortunately, he was initially rather vague in explaining just why it wasn't the case, preferring a 'read-between-the-lines' approach as opposed to a more specific account of the current state of play.

I pointed out that it was hardly fair to bemoan fan-speculation when his own actions - and subsequent silence or equivocation - has allowed it to take root; resulting in a sarcastic response which suggested that, not being 'included' in the situation, I shouldn't be expressing either an opinion or an interest in the matter.  As is usual in such cases, it wasn't long before the inevitable nameless diddy emerged from the woodwork, saying that I should be ignored as I was a 'troll' - apparently quite unaware of the inherent irony in him contributing nothing of significance and in doing so anonymously.

So, tell me - where do these t*ssers come from?

Anyway, let's hope that the company in question comes to its senses and removes any impositions which prevent its cartoonists from promoting the very images they produce for them.  And, just for fun, see if you can spot the subtle visual clues as to exactly which Dundee-based publishers of periodicals I'm referring to.  A free, lifetime subscription to a certain comic which ceases publication on December 4th for all those who guess correctly.

(Subscription commences from January, 2013.)

SPIDER-MAN AT 50-PLUS...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

Believe it or not, back in August, SPIDER-MAN was officially 50 years old.  I say 'officially' because, although the comic in which he made his first appearance (AMAZING FANTASY #15) was dated August, it actually came out on or around the very merry month of May, 1962.  To commemorate this landmark event, PANINI BOOKS have released a '50th Anniversary Edition Vintage Annual', containing Spidey's debut from AF #15, THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN #s 1 & 6, and the first U.S. ANNUAL from 1964, including various pin-ups and features.

All in all, it's a nice little package, but a tad expensive at £12.99.  Panini have added 'age' effects to the cover and interior pages which are somewhat overdone in places, but, in the instances where their application is more subtle, it actually delivers a not-unpleasing result.

One of the main problems, however, especially in the case of the origin tale, is that Panini have utilised inferior proofs which have been 'revised' in several places.  Originally, these proofs were used for the early '80s MARVEL TALES reprint, and contained altered lettering and artwork.  For example, 'Spiderman' was changed to 'Spider-Man', 'costume hero' to 'costumed hero', etc., and some lettering was re-created in a couple of instances.  Also, on the last page, the final caption was omitted as it referred to the next issue of Amazing Fantasy and the dots on the eye-pieces of Spidey's mask were deleted as they were considered too 'cartoonish'.

These same proofs were again pressed into service for the first printing of the Spidey MASTERWORKS volume in the late '80s, but were later revised in an attempt to return them to their original 'unaltered' state - with rather lacklustre results it has to be said, as a couple of instances were overlooked.  Fortunately, however, with the release of the latest softcover Masterworks and OMNIBUS books, superior proofs were used, and a far more faithful presentation of this classic issue became available to collectors.  Alas, it's just a shame that Panini apparently didn't have access to these superior proofs for their own publication, as they used the ones which had been clumsily 'restored' to their pre-altered state.

Anyway, here's a few images from this (relatively) recently released 126 page, hardback tome.

TV21 CAPTAIN SCARLET ALBUM...

Images copyright relevant owner

Known and loved everywhere for my generosity as I am, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I often seek to share with others far less fortunate than myself.  Why, there's many a sleeping tramp who has been suddenly warmed by the steam from the amber liquid I bestow upon them whilst they're huddled in a cardboard box on the cold streets of Glasgow.  I'm just that sort of a guy.

It's that same spirit of charitable unselfishness for which I'm so justly famous that now prompts me to impart unto all you Crivs this super free gift given away with TV CENTURY 21 #155, cover-dated January 6th 1968.  There's no need to thank me - such altruism comes naturally to this humble blog host.

Incidentally, this was the first issue of the title to be called simply TV21, as opposed to TV Century 21, which it had been officially known as for the previous 154 numbers.  However, most kids had referred to it as TV21 since its inception, so the publishers were merely following suit.

The CONCLUSION Of MEANDERING MUSINGS...

Continuing and concluding my self-indulgent speculations as to why I, nostalgic sentimentalist extraordinaire, didn't miss one of the seven houses I'd lived in over the course of twenty-eight years until well over a decade-plus later, permit me to milk the theme even further - but from a slightly different perspective.  I think it's safe to assume (as mentioned in my previous post) that spending a large part of my everyday life in my old neighbourhood (seven hours at school a day for starters), accounts for the fact that no longer actually living there seemed to make no discernible difference to me at the time.

Perhaps another reason I only started to miss this particular house when I did had something to do with running into an old classmate from primary school in the neighbourhood shops across from my old home in 1984 or '85.   ALEX LOWE by name, and as fine and decent a bloke as you could ever hope to meet.  We exchanged greetings, enquired after one another's well-being, and then Alex asked: "Are you still living across the road?", nodding in the direction of my previous abode.  He was surprised to learn that I'd moved away about twelve or thirteen years earlier, and it made me wonder how many other people I knew still thought I lived in a place I'd left almost half my life away at that point.

Talking of Alex (and veering wildly off topic), I hope he won't mind me recounting that he once appeared in our secondary school play as a fairy, uttering the immortal lines: "I'm a fairy, bright and gay, helping others every day!"  I don't recall anything else about that play, but Alex's turn got such a huge laugh on the night that everyone remembered it - and constantly quoted the lines back to him in lisping, falsetto voice over the course of the next few terms.  (I know I did, little bastich that I was.)  He always took it in good humour, being the fine fellow he is.

I'd planned to expand the scope of this topic and try and explore (in an epic exercise in tedium) wider themes than I actually have.  For example, what it is that draws us to our past and connects us to where we came from, and whether or not it has any bearing on the direction we take in life. Can a house in which we once stayed shape our perceptions of ourselves, or would we be precisely the same as we are regardless of the bricks and mortar which shield us from the elements? However, the realisation has now dawned on me that it's simply too big a concept to concisely and competently capture within the confines of a couple of blog posts or so - in an interesting and entertaining way, at least.

I'll have to content myself with the hope (slim as it may be) that I may have prompted some readers to indulge in a little quiet contemplation of whatever memories reside within the repositories of their own minds.

Or, failing that, helped cure them of their insomnia.

MYSTERIES, MUSINGS & MEANDERINGS...

In previous posts I've doubtless bored you all rigid with ponderous ponderings on the nature of time, as well as rambling reminiscences of my childhood and how I've never been quite able to comprehend how I went to bed one night as a teenager and woke up what seems like the very next morning as the grumpy curmudgeon I am now.  Well, the bad news is that it's more of the same, I'm afraid.

As a child I was always looking backward.  When I moved from the first house I remember (but not the first I lived in), I made little pilgrimages to my old street to look at my former abode and derive some comfort from the familiarity of its presence.  What's odd about this over-developed sense of nostalgia is that I only lived three or four minutes away and was a mere five and a half years old.  Wow!  Not even six and already hankering after the 'good old days'.

This compulsion to revisit the past has been a prominent feature of my personality all through my life to this very day.  I recently added photographs of the views from the windows of my previous houses to my screensaver facility so that I can again gaze on familiar scenes whenever the mood takes me.  At the click of a key, I can re-experience any one of several landscapes that once met me when I drew back the curtains in the morning at various stages in my life.

However, there was one particular house (the third after the aforementioned ones above) I lived in for several years that I didn't miss 'til over a dozen years after moving out (and two houses down the line) and I've often wondered as to the reasons for this 'delayed reaction'.  If you're interested (or aren't currently engaged in watching paint dry), feel free to join me as I explore the possible explanation for the curious complexity which has puzzled me for many a long year.

When I moved from the house in question (back in 1972), my life still revolved to a great degree around the neighbourhood it was situated in.  I continued to attend the school just across the road from it for another two and a half years.  I still went to Summer and Christmas fayres in the church at the top of the street, and my mother dutifully trotted along to the Sunday services every week, even though there was another congregation of the same denomination just around the corner from our new home.  (In fact, it was from this group that the one my mother went to had sprung.)  My friends all lived near or around my old domicile and I continued to frequent the area for quite a few years after.

It wasn't unusual for me to come home from school (and later, work), have my tea, and then return to my previous neighbourhood to hang about the local shopping centre (about thirty seconds away from my old front door) with my pals.  Perhaps that explains why I wasn't consumed with the same rabid pangs of nostalgia I nursed for previous houses; I saw it so often that I simply never had a chance to miss it.  The ambiance of the house was preserved in our new home by the presence of the same furniture we'd had in every place we'd ever lived in - plus, our new house was similar in many respects to the first one I remembered; hence it conjured up a feeling of familiarity that pre-dated the dwelling we had just recently vacated.

It wasn't until we had again moved house (in 1983) and were ensconced in yet another new residence that I gradually started to miss the one we had quit way back in 1972.  What's strange about this was that I was simultaneously wallowing in nostalgic notions for the homestead we had just left (to say nothing of the ones which preceded them both), so it certainly can't be denied that I was spoilt for choice when it came to such sentimental self-indulgence.  Maybe I'm just greedy?

Okay, we've killed a few minutes, so how do I bring these meandering musings to a close?  Tell you what - let's save it for the next post.

CRIPES! PART TEN Of The GOOD OL' MISSING LINK...

Copyright REBELLION

Once again we travel back to 1967 to find out what's happening in the eventful life of The MISSING LINK, as chronicled in the pages of FANTASTIC.  LUIS BERMEJO handles the art chores impeccably, which is why this strip is so fondly remembered by those of us who read it at the time.  If you weren't one of that lucky number, don't despair - you can now acquaint yourself with Linky's adventures on this very blog.  Am I good to you or what?  (Okay - so who said "what"?)

COME - TAKE A WALK WITH ME...

One of the things about my home town (as I'm sure it is with yours) is that certain aspects have changed so much over the last twenty-five years or thereabouts, that some areas are almost unrecognizable to what they once were.  To anyone who moved away in the early '80s and has never been back since, the town remains preserved as it was in the amber of their memories.  If ever they were to return on a visit, I'm sure they'd be in equal parts amazed and horrified at some of the changes which have taken place.

Truth to tell, I'm almost envious of them.  To gad about on the other side of the world somewhere, thinking, in a blissful state of ignorance, that one's home town remains as it once was seems a reassuring notion to me.  In that way, the playing fields of your childhood remain forever inviolate.  Same goes for people; if you don't know someone has expired since you last saw them, they're still alive to you and will be for as long as you are.  What does it profit you to learn that their life's race ended halfway through your own?

I remember being in a camera shop a number of years ago and running into a school-pal who once sat beside me in technical drawing class (and probably other classes also).  ALAN PARKER was (and is) his name, a fact which won't make this tale one whit more interesting, but which I feel compelled to mention for no other reason than that it happens to be the case.  The conversation ran something like this.  Me: "Hi, Alan - what're you up to these days?"  Him: I'm on holiday at the moment."  Me: "Not going anywhere?"  Him: "Yes - here!"  Me: "Eh?"  Him: "I emigrated to Australia a couple of years back, and I'm over visiting my folks." 

To be honest, I can't actually recall whether it was Australia, New Zealand or Canada he had gone to, but Australia will suffice for the purpose of our tale.  I was actually quite surprised by the news, mainly because it didn't seem like anywhere near two years since I'd last seen him - five or six months at the most, I would've thought.  The realization that he'd been living in another country and pursuing a new and different life for that period, while I subconsciously imagined him to be still tripping merrily around the streets of my town, ready to run into at any moment, was a sobering reminder that things aren't always as we perceive them to be.  In my life, nothing much had changed; in Alan's, a whole new horizon lay before him - and he was already several steps on in the journey which had taken him beyond the narrow (if comforting) confines of my own world.

A few weeks back, myself and a friend I've known since I was seven years old, took a wander around the new housing scheme which now sits upon the sizeable area of land where once resided my old secondary school.  It was a strange experience because, inside its boundaries, there were no visible 'landmarks' to indicate our location.  We could've been in any new-built housing scheme in Britain; it was as if we'd walked through a dimensional portal and found ourselves somewhere else entirely.  Beyond and out of sight, lay the familiar environs we'd known since childhood, but within these strange new streets we were in an unknown place in an unknown land.  It was with a sense of relief that we returned to our own world some minutes later, back through whence we had come.

In my more fanciful moments, I sometimes wonder if the 'dear departed' (assuming they survive death in some form) are aware of what goes on in the place they left behind; or do they imagine (like the distant wanderer) that everything remains the same as when they left it?  If granted a day's visit to their home town from whatever celestial realm or dark netherworld they may inhabit, would they be surprised and dismayed to learn of the changes which have taken place in their absence? "What? My old house has been demolished?  The old cinema has been gone for twenty years?  My favourite toyshop is now a newsagents?  The Cairneys don't live at number thirty-three any more?"  Or would such trivial concerns be beyond them in their joy at feeling the wind blow through their hair once more, and again experience a sun-kissed walk through green fields for however brief a period?

Try and let me know if you go before I do, will you? 

SUPERMAN AND BATMAN ON RADIO...

Image copyright DC COMICS

I bought this LP album around February or March of 1985 from a record store in Portsmouth shopping centre.  An astounding 27 and 3-quarter years ago, so I've now had it for more than half my life.  I find this absolutely mind-staggering, because it seems like just a few years back, and it's been played only a handful of times since then.  In fact, most spins occurred only recently when I dug it out to transfer to CD and it took several tries to get right.

The B side features two SUPERMAN radio broadcasts from 1947, the first being markedly inferior in audio quality to the second, as well as to both episodes on side A, which hail from '45 & '46 respectively.  Also, the use of SAMMY TIMBURG's theme tune from the '40s MAX FLEISCHER Superman cartoons bestows an immensely juvenile air to the later shows and does them no favours.  I'd guess that digitally restored, superior-sounding versions of the episodes have been issued since the album's release in '84 (the earliest episodes from 1940 have been*), but, to be frank, I doubt it'll make them any more enjoyable from a purely historical point of view.

Interestingly, a lot of what eventually became Superman lore in the comics first occurred on the radio show.  For example, KRYPTONITE, JIMMY OLSEN, the BATMAN/SUPERMAN team-up, and the famous call to action as the mighty Man of Steel took flight - "Up, up and awaaaayyyy!!"  Of interest are the interview extracts with CLAYTON 'BUD' COLLYER, the voice of Superman/CLARK KENT on radio and in cartoons.  Certainly worth having, and maybe I'll listen to it again in another 27 and 3-quarter years.  (Which will doubtless fly by in no time.)

******

*Update 20-3-'24: Every episode was later digitally remastered and made available in a CD boxed set, which I bought brand-new many years ago.