MARVEL TALES COVER GALLERY...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

MARVEL TALES lasted an astounding 30 years, from issue #1 in 1964, right up to #291 in 1994.  Like MARVEL COLLECTORS' ITEM CLASSICS, it reprinted some of the earliest tales of the most popular heroes from 'The House Of Ideas'.

But, hey - you're not here to read me wittering on in my typically boring, long-winded fashion.  So why don't I just cut to the chase and show you the covers of the first dozen issues?  You'd like that?  Well, I have to confess I'm a tad disappointed you never took any time to think over that proposition, but who am I to argue with all you crazy cavortin' Crivvies?

So here they are!  Any happy memories of any of them?  Then feel free to share them in the comments section.

I obtained my original copy of this issue in Blackpool in 1973 or '74

BABE Of The DAY - JOLENE BLALOCH...

Hell's Bells, what's the world coming

to?  I saw a link in my visitor stats to what

looked like a DC Universe site and clicked

on it to check it out.  I'd have spared myself a

wasted journey (and a shock) had I only known

what 'slash' fiction was.  I made a hasty retreat,

so here's JOLENE BLALOCH to show them

what they're missing should they ever decide

to drop in on my blog again.  (I sure won't

be visiting theirs!  Strewth!)  Be careful

about what links you click on!

MARVEL COLLECTORS' ITEM CLASSICS COVER GALLERY...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

Before the MARVEL MASTERWORKS and OMNIBUS volumes, there was - MARVEL COLLECTORS' ITEM CLASSICS!  68 pages of great superhero strips for only 1/6- (or 25c if you lived in the States), they were a handy way of catching up on the earliest adventures of SPIDER-MAN, The FANTASTIC FOUR, IRON MAN, Dr. STRANGE, ANT-MAN and The HULK.  (Even The WATCHER was there to 'watch' over proceedings.)

The line-up varied over the first few issues, before settling down to a regular cast of heroes, and these issues are now highly collectable in their own right.  I had quite a few of them in my youth and have very fond memories of them.  Although I'd already read many of these sensational stories in British weekly periodicals WHAM!, SMASH!, POW!, FANTASTIC and TERRIFIC, this was the first time I'd seen them in full-colour, and I liked what I saw.

It was in the pages of MCIC that I learned that the baddie I knew as The APEMASTER was actually The RED GHOST, and that MADAME NATASIA's name was spelt NATASHA in her original American appearances.  For a short time, in my ignorance, I considered the U.K. reprints to be 'the real thing' and the U.S. originals as mere counterfeits, but I soon wised up and learned to appreciate both incarnations of these strips.

Anyway, in celebration of these great comics of yesteryear, here's a cover gallery of the first dozen issues.  If you remember them with the same fondness as I do, then feel free to share your reminiscences of these mags in the comments section.  Don't be selfish by keeping all those warm memories to yourself.

This ish is dated 1966, but I bought it brand-new off the spinner-rack in
1969.  Thank goodness for delayed distribution of U.S. comics in Britain

Looks like the U.K. price went up with this ish - still a bargain though

BABE Of The DAY - LINDA THORSON...

Lovely LINDA THORSON of

The AVENGERS shows how it should

be done in the 'wearing leather jackets'

category.  She'll be popping in for a cuppa

tea in just a moment (then, hopefully, she'll

be 'popping out') so I better go and put the

kettle on and take off the gimp mask as I

don't want to scare  her.  (Okay, who

 said "Better keep it on then!" ?)

KEN REID'S FINAL FACE-ACHE...

Image copyright REBELLION

Some time back, I showed you the very first FACE-ACHE strip by KEN REID (from JET #1, cover-dated May 1st 1971), so I thought it would be nice to show his very last strip that was published, in BUSTER, cover-dated March 14th 1987, just over a month after he died (February 2nd).  Ken had started work on another page but never completed it, and I have a copy of that unfinished strip.  However, I'm not at liberty to reveal it at the moment, but that time will eventually come.  (Incidentally, you can refresh your memory of the first strip here.)

******

As the years passed, Ken's art, although still meticulously rendered, took on a more stiff appearance and was less 'fluid' than it had once been.  More and more, he started to draw people from a side-on view, which made his pages seem a bit flat.  The first panel of the above page serves as an example of this; look at the unnatural side-on angle of the kids seated at their desks.  They actually appear to be looking off-panel, not at the teachers at the front of the class. 

ROLLICKING REPOST: NOW COMES... COLOSSUS!

Copyright REBELLION

Whenever I first read a book, the images that form in my head are indelible.  Even if I re-read the book twenty years later, the exact same imagery is conjured up in my mind as before - though sometimes a more careful contemplation of the text might reveal that what I'd envisioned was perhaps not in perfect accord with the mental picture the writer was trying to paint.  (It's usually pretty close though.)

What do I mean exactly?  Well, if a writer's description of a location is similar enough to one I'm familiar with, then that's where I'll think of whenever I read the associated piece of text.  For example, KENNETH GRAHAME's WILD WOOD (from The WIND In The WILLOWS) is an amalgam, to me, of two different woods in two different neighbourhoods where I lived as a youth.  Exactly which wood depends on precisely which paragraph (or sentence) I'm reading, but one descriptive passage will suggest one wood, and another the other one.  These images formed in my brain when I first read the book, and these are the images that remain with me to this day, no matter how many times I re-read it.

So what's that got to do with this strip from the FANTASTIC Annual for 1968 (issued in August/September of 1967)?  Well, what I've just waxed boringly about in the preceding preamble is pretty much the same when it comes to comic strips.  With one difference of course, as comic strips have their own accompanying set of images which don't require much, if any, interpretive contribution on the part of the reader.  However, comic strips still carry with them their own associations of where and when they were first read, so they leave their own indelible impressions on a reader's mind in a similar way to what novels do.

For instance, I so associate the COLOSSUS strip - drawn by the amazing Spanish artist JOSE ORTIZ MOYA - with the house and neighbourhood in which I stayed when I first read it, that I'm right back there again in a heartbeat on sight of this particular tale.  Regardless of however many homes I've lived in (or ever will live in) since my initial exposure to this story, whenever I've re-read it over the years, it's always that first house I find myself thinking of each time I pore over this astoundingly awesome Ortiz artwork.

Anyway, it goes without saying that you all deserve a gold BLUE PETER BADGE for having to wade through the previous paragraphs of self-indulgent tosh to get to a point that should've taken only a few sentences.  You know me though - in love with the sound of my own computer keyboard.

If you think you recognise the art style, you'd be right.  As well as drawing Spanish strips and working for WARREN PUBLISHING, Jose also drew strips such as The THIRTEENTH FLOOR and The TOWER KING for IPC MAGAZINES.  He did much more than I've mentioned here of course, and fans of the man and his work might like to read more about his career by looking him up on WIKIPEDIA.  Sadly, he died aged 81 on December 23rd, 2013, but he leaves behind a rich legacy of absolutely amazing artwork.

Anyway, congratulations - you've scaled the final plateau. Now you can enjoy this 12-page strip by one of the comic strip medium's true masters.      

SCHOOLTIME SCANDALS INTERLUDE: RHYMES Of The TIMES...

I had a little poodle dog,

a poodle dog was he.

He lifted up his poodle leg

and 'poodled' up a a tree.

I remember a lad called Adam Cowie telling me the above rhyme many, many years ago.  It started me searching my memory for other childhood verses that used to do the rounds in the playground.  Here's a few I remember.

Good King Wenceslas looked out

on the feast of Stephen,

Turned his trousers inside-out

because his bum was freezin'.

*

Beans, beans, are good for the heart,

the more you eat, the more you fart.

The more you fart, the better you feel,

beans, beans, for every meal.

*

Mine eyes have seen the glory

of the burning of the school,

we have tortured every teacher,

we have broken every rule.

We have killed the headmaster

and the cops are on our trail,

but we go marching on.

Glory, glory, hallelujah,

teacher hit me with a ruler,

the ruler went all red

and the teacher she fell dead

and we've never seen the old goat since.

*

The fart is a volcanic eruption,

that comes from the island of Bum.

It passes through the trouser canyon

and comes out as a musical hum.

*

My mammie said Ah wuz to go

for ma daddy's dinner-o.

Beef an' tatties, mince an' steak,

an' a wee bit currant cake.

Went to the river, couldnae get across,

paid ten bob for an old scabby horse.

Jumped on its back, its bones came a-crack,

had to wait 'til the boat came back.

The boat came back, we a' jumped in,

the boat capsized and we a' fell in,

Singing "Don't be weary, try and be cheery,

don't be weary for we're a' goin' home."

*

Julius Caesar done a beezer
in the middle of France.
The King of Spain done the same,
but only in his pants.

There are different variations of course (especially of 'Mine eyes have seen the glory'), but the above verses are how they were said or sung in my neck of the woods.  Can you think of any I may have forgotten?

BABE Of The DAY - JENNIFER BEALS...

Lovely JENNIFER BEALS

graces us with her presence today.

Looks sunny in the photo, but clearly

there's a bit of a nip in the air.  (Ooh,

 I am awful - but I like me!)

SCHOOLTIME SCANDALS - PART THIRTEEN: PUSHED IN A PUDDLE...

Scene of the 'crime':  The foot of the grassy slope, several feet along from the stairs.
The puddle was at the edge of the grass in the foreground.  The school is just out of
view on the right side of the photo

Me and Ewan Shepherd weren't exactly what you'd call pals.  However, between classmates, there existed a kind of unwritten rule that it was acceptable, in the absence of one's usual friends, to pass the time in the company of whichever fellow pupil was available when required.  A sort of 'surrogate' pal in effect.

Such was the case on this particular day.  School had finished and Ewan and I found ourselves in each other's company as we exited from the school gates.  We made our way to his house, a mere two minutes (if) away from my own, to dump his schoolbag, but he met with an objection from his mother at going back out again.  He pleaded, begged, cried, and implored until his poor mother relented.  "15 minutes - no more!"

So we made our way to the swingpark beside a playing-field between our two houses.  On the way, we ran into his older sister (Laura Isobel by name), who enquired where he was going and why he wasn't already home.  She then took his hand and started to lead him back towards their house.  Unsurprisingly, Ewan burst into tears and protested that he had permission to be out, but she was having none of it. I timidly piped up at the back "His mum said he could stay out for 15 minutes", whereupon she turned and looked at me as if I were a bad smell.

Then she simply shoved me hard in the chest.  I fell backwards and landed in a large muddy puddle.  As I lay there, spreadeagled and stunned into silence in my surprise, Ewan looked at me, ceased his crying, and burst into the irritating girlish giggle for which he was so renowned and ridiculed in equal measure.  Then he simply turned his back and accompanied his nasty bitch of a sister home.  Treacherous b*st*rd!  This was my reward for my intercession on his behalf?

I would've thought, at the very least, in shame at his sister's behaviour, he'd have assisted me to my feet and apologised for her shocking act, but no, Ewan found it highly amusing.  I was left on my own to extricate myself (with much squelching) from the sodden, muddy puddle and make my way home, there to explain my dufflecoat's soiled condition.

Needless to say, I took nothing to do with the wee pr*ck after that.  Even amongst 'fill-in' friends, a certain degree of loyalty was expected, and Ewan had been found sadly lacking and fallen at the first hurdle.  Perhaps to this day he looks back and wonders why he wasn't particularly popular at primary.  (Certainly not with me anyway.)

If so, guess what?  I could tell him!

Me and Ewan in a class photo.  He's standing on a kerb
behind me, hence the seemingly immense difference in
our height 

RECOMMENDED READING: GOLD KEY STAR TREK SPECTACULAR From IDW...

Images copyright PARAMOUNT & IDW

IDW have just released this 100-page Super Spectacular reprinting GOLD KEY STAR TREK tales from the 1960s and '70s.  It's a neat little package, no doubt intended to whet the appetites of fans for the Gold Key Archive editions, the first of which was released in 2014 and are still ongoing.  (This mag reprints Gold Key issues #s 1, 8 & 14.)

It's reassuring to know that we Brits weren't the only ones to get things wrong with our home-produced Star Trek strips when we first started publishing them; Gold Key were also 'off-model' from the TV series in several ways with their attempts to cash-in on GENE RODDENBERRY's 'space western', as is detailed in an essay by JOSEPH BERENATO.

A great item for all Star Trek and Gold Key fans, killing, as it does, two birds with the one stone.  Available now from all good comics shops.  What're you waiting for?!

I'm sure you can stand repetition, as this is the original

PART TWELVE Of SCHOOLTIME SCANDALS: TRIPS, TEACHERS & TEARS...

The incident described occurred just to the left
(and out of sight) beyond the closed fire door

When I was a young lad at primary school, there was a boy in my class by the name of Ewan Shepherd, who giggled like a girl and was slightly effete.  I never realised it back then, but looking back many years later, it struck me that such was the case.  Ewan may well be a big manly man now, but it would come as no great surprise to me to learn that he made the journey to Denmark at the earliest opportunity after leaving school.

But Ewan isn't the star of this post - his is nothing more than a cameo role in this true tale from the dim and distant days of my childhood, when I was only about 8 years old.  Ewan and myself were part of the double line of pupils waiting at the foot of the stairs one day, ready to ascend to the rooms above.  One of us accidentally tripped as the line started to move, placing us slightly out-of-step with our fellows, and Ewan (or is it Euan?) emitted a giggle.  Suddenly, Mr. Halliburton descended upon us and violently yanked us from the ranks.

Pushing us against a wall, he started to shout at us, and was either going to belt us or give us 'lines'.  (Can't recall with certainty after so many years - it was one or the other.)  I'd had an encounter with Halliburton before (see here) and was determined not to let him intimidate me. "I'm going to tell my dad about you!" I declared, and started to move towards the door leading to the playground.  (I lived at the top of the road, so my house was nearby.)  He grabbed me by the lapels and pushed me back against the wall, glaring at me menacingly.

At this point Ewan burst into tears, eliciting a look of contempt from Mr. Halliburton, who then eyed us while he deliberated his next move.  An internal struggle seemed to be taking place - then he ordered "Get to your class!"  As Ewan moved off, Halliburton pulled me back, lowered his voice and muttered "Don't ever threaten me with your father again."  Yeah, that'd be right - adults wouldn't put up with his p*sh, but kids could be easily intimidated.  Except for me that is.

I caught up with Ewan as he dabbed his tears away with the back of his hands.  He forced out a giggle - "Hee hee - that always works" he whimpered, sheepishly and unconvincingly.  Yeah, sure - but even so it was no excuse to abandon dignity and self-respect.  However, Mr. Halliburton never tried to bully me or lay his hands on me again in all my remaining time at primary.  That's what I call a result!

Next:  Another tale about the tears of Ewan.