The MIGHTY WORLD Of YESTERDAY...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

They say that when you're dying, your life flashes before your eyes - but there's a far less drastic (and not so final) way to achieve the same effect.  Simply flick through the pages of the comics you got as a kid (if they're still in your possession) and you'll find yourself transported back in time to when you first acquired them, with such clarity that you not only remember the past, but can see, feel, smell and taste it as well.

Such is the case with The MIGHTY WORLD Of MARVEL #51.  Look at the cover.  See the stars twinkling in the night sky?  One look, and I vividly recall the September evening when myself and one of my pals found ourselves crawling over the slated rooftops of a centuries-old public house in search of adventure.  I can remember the sudden thrill when, underneath us, someone suddenly emerged from the backdoor of the bar to obtain a fresh keg, while we hugged the roof and hoped that they wouldn't glance upwards.  Surely 'twas the exact same stars that shone down on us that night as sparkled from the cover of this comic from childhood, which I had bought the self-same morning in 1973?

Looking again at an old comic is much like rereading a half-forgotten diary entry, in as much that it invigorates the memory and spans the bridge between past and present, allowing us - for however brief a period - to revisit times and places from so very long ago.
 

The slates at left belong to the pub.  The photo is
taken from where we gained access to the roof

"I USED TO BE... HUMAN!"

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

This is a 'luverly' little tale by STAN LEE and STEVE DITKO, reprinted in the FANTASTIC Annual for 1968.  (The story was originally published in JOURNEY Into MYSTERY #92, 1963.)  I remember redrawing the splash page in my back garden one day, with the intention of copying the whole strip, but no longer recall whether I ever finished it or gave up after the first couple of pages.

As was the custom with U.K. reprints of U.S. comic strips back then, credit boxes were deleted and certain words or phrases altered, such as "Good Lord!" to "Goodness!", and "thru" to "through", etc.  Can't take the chance of youthful readers picking up blasphemous oaths from their comics now, can we, or learning how to misspell?  That would never do!

Anyway, let's forego the customary waffle from me and get straight into the story.

DEFINITION OF AN EDITOR - SOMEONE WHO WANDERED IN OUT OF THE RAIN AND FELL INTO A JOB...

Copyright relevant owner

Right, Crivvies, now that I've got your attention with that provocative title, let's talk about editors.  Editors, like everything else on this planet, come in all shapes and sizes - good, bad and indifferent.  I've worked for some really good editors in my time, but I've also worked for some total incompetents.  The incompetents make for a much more interesting study, so let's focus on them.

Some incompetents may actually be quite proficient in ensuring that the whole process of comics production runs smoothly, and that the finished result arrives at the printers when it's due with as few hiccups along the way as possible.  In short, they're good traffic managers.  However, that doesn't necessarily mean that they have any particular skills for editing a comic, in the sense of choosing good writers and artists, matching the most suitable ones together, and catching mistakes - whether it be of spelling, punctuation or grammar.  Some editors I've experienced over the years have been diabolically deficient in some or all of those departments.

Let me tell you of such a tale which demonstrates the truth of the above.  I was once approached by an editor about whether I might be available to letter a Holiday Special featuring some HANNA-BARBERA cartoon characters.  I was busy at the time, but mindful of the fact that I might have a quiet period in the future, I enquired about the possibility of it leading to regular work.  "We have quite a number of upcoming projects," I was told, "so there's bound to be something or other we can send your way."

I therefore acceded to lettering the proffered project and duly received stats of the artwork.  There were three stories which required my tender attentions: The FLINTSTONES, SCOOBY DOO & YOGI BEAR.  These strips had originated as English-language tales, and then been translated into Spanish or Italian for the foreign market.  Presumably, the English versions were not readily available, necessitating the foreign editions being re-translated back into our mother-tongue to make them suitable for U.K. distribution.

The editor happened to speak whatever foreign tongue the strips were in and had enclosed a script of the English equivalent.  As most bi or multi-lingual speakers will appreciate, when one language is directly-translated into another, adjustments are often required to accommodate the rhythm and phraseology of the latter, otherwise the result are stilted.  So a verbatim translation might read: "The butter pass me please!", instead of the more natural "Please pass me the butter!"  While it wasn't quite as bad in this case, it wasn't too far removed in some instances.

Even worse, however, was that she was completely unfamiliar with Hanna-Barbera characters, which one would have thought a prerequisite for her position.  For example: RANGER SMITH was called WARDEN SMITH, PICNIC BASKETS were referred to as LUNCHEON HAMPERS, and I remember seeing another issue in which the TOWN Of BEDROCK was rendered as ROCK CITY.  In the Yogi Bear story, the veterinary surgeon's hut originally sported a doctor's sign outside.)  Going from back issues, this sort of thing was a regular occurrence, made worse by the fact that the finished strips were submitted to HB representatives for approval before publication.  (Who, it would seem, were also sound asleep at the wheel.)

On top of that, though, the dialogue and captions were just a statement of what was evident in each individual pic, while at the same time (in one particular story) suggesting an overall plot that didn't match anything shown in them.  So, if a character was running away, someone would be saying "He's running away!", while someone else replied something like "He doesn't want his picture taken!" - even if a camera was nowhere in sight.  Worst of all was that no-one ever said anything remotely humorous.

Being conscientious, I 'phoned the editor and described the all-too obvious problems with the scripts, and asked her permission to address them and to add a little humour.  She grudgingly acquiesced, recognising that I was correct, but with her nose out of joint at me detecting flaws which had escaped her attention.  The Flintstones story I amended by about 60%, the Scooby Doo tale by about 85%, and the Yogi Bear one by about 95%.  All this extra time and effort I gave for free, my chief concern being only that the stories made sense and were as entertaining as possible.

I also took time to letter some suitable story titles for the splash pages (they ruined the Flintstone's one by not adding colour), and photocopied the established character mastheads from some of my old Hanna-Barbera annuals so that the stories would look as 'authentic' as possible.  I doubt that anyone ever lavished as much attention on previous specials as I had with this one.  The finished result certainly looked far better than those which had preceded it.  After finishing a few pages I noticed another problem, so I then took special care to make the new lettering accommodate the speech balloons as closely as possible, without them looking too big (or small) for the enclosed dialogue.  (Which was often a feature of pre-computer relettering on translated strips.)

Some months after publication, I 'phoned her again to enquire about some courtesy copies she had promised to send which I hadn't received, and to ask if she might have any regular work for me yet.  She said she had sent the copies (which, going by her tone, I doubt) and frostily denied ever having suggested that she might send me other work.  Yet another example of an editor saying whatever is expedient to secure the services of some trusting freelancer, only to discard them when they're no longer required to meet a deadline and save their bacon.

Would it have been wiser if I'd said nothing and just turned in an inferior product?  Perhaps, but I was motivated purely by a desire to make the job as good as it could be, not to show off in any way.  Had she dismissed my concerns and asked me to do it as it was, I would have, but she couldn't deny that my observations had merit.  My wish to do the best job possible rather than just 'phone it in', made her look more efficient and competent than she actually was.  Trust me, some editors are absolutely bloody useless - but I'll keep their names to myself.  And if there's anybody out there who isn't as annoyed by this sort of thing as I am, then I'm a Dutchman.

(This is Kid Van Der Valk signing off.)

******

   

I should perhaps add that anything even remotely resembling humour in any of the above pages was dialogued by myself.

PART THREE Of FAVOURITE COMICS Of The PAST - "The WAY It WAS!"...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

I don't want to create the impression that I was an overly-sick child when I was a lad, but I'm struck by how many comics I associate with days of school while ill in bed.  To be honest, usually my ailment consisted of nothing more than being sick of school and fancying a bit of a break, but, occasionally, I was actually suffering from some life-threatening illness - such as a mild cold or a dodgy dose of diarrhoea.  Sometimes I could even milk a slightly higher temperature and a headache for all they were worth.

So it was the morning of my 11th birthday, and my immediate fate had just been decided by my parents.  Because I was feeling 'off-colour', I didn't have to go to school that day (hooray), so I sat up in bed and allowed myself to be nourished by frequent administrations of American Cream Soda and a lunchtime bowl of tomato soup.  I was surrounded by a plethora of colourful comics, three of which I particularly remember, being the following: The MIGHTY THOR #158, MARVEL COLLECTORS' ITEM CLASSICS #6, and that week's issue of WHIZZER & CHIPS (#5 I think).

Although I now primarily recall these comics from that particular day, I had acquired the MARVEL ones perhaps a week or two before and can still remember buying them.  However, I tend to associate them more with my birthday because, in attempting to relieve my bed-ridden tedium, I completely immersed myself in their pages.  This no doubt accounts for why they and the day left such an impression on me.  Anyway, no doubt we'll someday get around to looking at MCIC #6 in more detail, but for now let's just focus on Thor #158.

"The Way It Was!" proclaims the splash page, and that's precisely what it delivers - a look back at how Thor The Mighty (as he was originally referred to) came to be.  Ol' Goldilocks' origin tale from JOURNEY Into MYSTERY #83 is re-presented, with some small alterations to its splash to accommodate a flashback scenario.  If you compare DON BLAKE's arm in the far-right bottom picture with its original printing, you'll see that it has been extended outwards to accentuate the appearance of his limp.

Interestingly, when Marvel first released their MASTERWORKS books, they recreated the splash page of Thor's debut from proofs of this reprint (as well as the rest of the pages) because they had apparently mislaid the proofs of the original printing.  Although a better-quality source has since turned up (which can be seen in the OMNIBUS and one or two other volumes), the inferior version still surfaces from time to time.  (Best to get a copy of the recent softcover Masterworks if you prefer archive quality.)

I remember my father reading this comic after me, and expressing his frustration that it was a continued story.  He never found out what happened to the 'real' Thor - mainly 'cause I never bothered to tell him when I read the concluding part of the tale reprinted in Marvel U.K.'s SPIDER-MAN COMICS WEEKLY #s 125 & 126 in June/July of 1975.  I doubt he'd have remembered ever seeing the cliffhanger ending to the first instalment by then anyway.

So there you have it!  I'll reveal the answer as unfolded in the above Thor #159 another time.  I had to wait about sixteen or seventeen years before I acquired the original American issue, so a few weeks or months of suspense isn't going to kill you.  (Update: Rejoice, you need wait no longer.  The answer can be found by clicking on this link.  So why are you still here?)

   

Click here for Part Two.  Click here for Part Four.

IS THE 'ART' BEING TAKEN OUT OF COMICS?



Front page of hand-lettered promotional leaflet. (Address
& 'phone number removed)

As regular readers of this humble blog should know by now (all four of them), your fearless host has never been one to avoid subjects of a controversial nature.  So, let's once more leap into the fray and tackle the topic of the role of computers in comics, and whether or not they've taken some of the 'art' out of the process of producing them.  With that subject in mind, I once enquired of a computer-colourist if he'd be able to colour a comic the traditional way, by hand.  "No!", was his short and honest answer.  Apparently, he didn't think he had sufficient ability and was therefore dependent on technology to enable him to make his comic contributions.

Technology has taken over in other areas too.  Lettering, for example.  Most comics nowadays are lettered by computer fonts, enabling practically anyone who can type (which is just about everyone) to overlay speech-balloons, text panels, sound effects and logos onto a comics page.  All of which most of them would be unable to create by their own hand to a satisfactory professional level.

From the reader's point of view I don't suppose it matters so long as it's done well, although I find all those perfectly elliptical balloon shapes quite tedious.  I prefer the spontaneity of hand-lettering (again, when it's done well), because it permits the letterer to accommodate the artist's layout in a far more personal and sympathetic manner than computer fonts can allow for.

When I used to earn a full-time living from lettering many years ago now, I took great delight in making speech-balloons fit in spaces that one would think had no room for them, and to do it in such a way that didn't seem forced and awkward-looking.  For the most part I succeeded, and derived immense satisfaction from making a page look as if art and lettering were an 'organic' whole.  I find that a lot of computer-lettering looks as if it isn't part of the artwork, but rather some 'disembodied' shape that floats over the surface of each panel.

Photo of promotional leaflet's centre-page spread of hand-lettered logos

A few years back, I briefly considered returning to comics work and had a go at computer-lettering with some fonts someone lent me, just to see what the process was like.  How mind-numbingly tedious compared to the joy of handling an actual page of art and affixing the lettering directly onto the page or acetate overlay (for colour work) in such a way as to make it a 'finished' piece.  I soon abandoned the exercise as it afforded me not even an iota of creative satisfaction.  I felt like a secretary.  (Which is fine if that's what you want to be.)

I should make it absolutely clear that I have no problem with genuine hand-letterers putting their fonts onto a computer programme and going down that route.  After all, these guys have been in the trenches for years and earned their stripes, so anything that makes their job a little quicker or easier is not something I'm going to grudge them.  Legendary 2000 A.D. calligrapher TOM FRAME eventually resorted to computer-lettering (I believe his deteriorating eyesight made it increasingly difficult for him to continue in the 'old-fashioned' way), but he'd earned the right to do so, and it was his own lettering style he utilised.

It niggles me though, when I see some of the newer people called letterers when they should more properly be credited as typographers - or in some cases, just plain typists.  After all, they couldn't letter by hand if their lives depended on it.

If you can't play the game, then don't wear the name.

******

(Agree or disagree?  Feel free to let me know, but try and do it without cussing.  You know how sensitive I can be.)

Back page of hand-lettered promotional leaflet 

PART TWO Of FAVOURITE COMICS Of The PAST - 'ENCHANTED' TIMES...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

And here's another little belter of a comic from out of the dim and distant, fog-enshrouded mists of time.  Actually, that last bit's a lie - because I can recall having my original copy of this comic as if it were only... well, not quite yesterday, but last week at least.  That's due to the fact that, not long after acquiring it, I was ill and confined to my bed for a day or two, and I remember re-reading the comic tucked up in bed with only a bedside light to illuminate my literary pursuits.

Feeling slightly better after finishing #143 of The MIGHTY THOR's Asgardian adventures, I got out of bed with the intention of going downstairs to the bosom of my family.  My brother assisted me, but I took a sudden dizzy turn at the top of the stairs and had to be returned to a horizontal position under the warm, cosy, enveloping blankets I had just abandoned mere moments before.  No wonder the issue is burned into my memory - who would ever forget a night like that? 

This tale was reprinted in SMASH! around the same time I had the American original, and I recall comparing the layout in the British comic to the U.S. one.  (MARVEL strips were resized, two pages to one, for their U.K. reprintings in three of the five POWER COMICS from ODHAMS PRESS, of which Smash! was by this time the sole survivor.)  Many years later, I learned that VINCE COLLETTA had started to ink this issue, but for some reason BILL EVERETT took over.  If you look carefully at the splash page, you can see the mix of the two different styles.

The issue was also later reprinted in ORIGINS Of MARVEL COMICS in 1974, and when I got my hands on a copy soon after it became available in Britain in '75, I was overjoyed to once again see this fondly-recalled tale from my boyhood.  True, only six years or so had passed since I'd owned the original comicbook, but that was over one third of my life away at that point and consequently seemed much longer than the same period of time would likely appear to me nowadays.  (All to do with proportions I guess, but what do I know?)

The scans you see here are from a copy I obtained more years ago than I care (or am able) to remember.  It's certainly close to half my life away anyway.  One look at that cover and I'm a child once more, back in my bedroom in Belmont again, reading the comic by the soft light of a lamp, with the outline of the room's few furnishings faintly visible as they stand guard in the gloom beyond.  (So much for those who say my childhood is behind me; truth is, it never truly left me.  It's the same for everyone, I imagine.)

Anyway, feel free to forget my self-indulgent waffle - just so long as you enjoy the scans herewith presented and are perhaps reminded of your own first, long-ago encounter with this cataclysmic comic, then I can savour the satisfaction that comes from a job well done.

Altogether now: "For Odin, for Asgard!"

******

Click here for Part Three.  Click here for Part One.

In The BEGINNING! FAVOURITE COMICS Of The PAST - PART ONE...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

A comic I well-remember buying back in the late '60s (and which I re-acquired many, many years ago) is DAREDEVIL #53, entitled "AS IT WAS IN THE BEGINNING..."  As you can likely tell by the title (and if you can't, take two two demerits), it's a retelling of Hornhead's origin, drawn by Genial GENE COLAN & Gallopin' GEORGE KLEIN, with a fair bit of Smilin' STAN LEE's original dashing dialogue (or paraphrasing of), book-ended by brand-new exposition by Rascally ROY THOMAS.

Apart from seeing Daredevil in his original red and yellow togs again (a colour scheme which I've always preferred, despite the all-red apparel being more suited to the character's devilish demeanour), one of the things that appealed to me about this issue was the snow-covered rooftop setting of the present-day aspects of the story, as MATT MURDOCH, in his superhero outfit, remembers how he first became the crime-fighting nemesis of evil known to friends and foes alike as The MAN WITHOUT FEAR!

It seems to me, if my recollective faculty is functioning properly, that I purchased this periodical (from a shop that, at the time of typing, still exists) when the snow also lay 'round about (though maybe not quite so deep and crisp and even) on the grounds of my own neighbourhood in the Cimmerian-like wastes of Caledonia.  Although perhaps my memory is playing tricks, and the mag's evocative wintry scenes simply made such an impression on my young mind that it's rewritten the past to accommodate the story's setting.  (Sometimes we remember things better than the way they actually happened.)

Who can know for sure?  And does anyone apart from me actually care one way or another?  (The answer is undoubtedly "No!")  For myself, however, I prefer to believe that the atmospheric arctic ambience contained in the comic coincided with my own part of the country's then-current climatic conditions, thus enabling me to imagine that the events of the four-colour terrific tale transpired at the same time and in the same world as the one I happened to inhabit.  Anyway... trust me, it's a comic well-worth having in your collection.

Another favourite comic of the past coming soon.  Don't dare miss it!

Click here for Part Two.  Click here for Part Three.

CONAN The CANCELLED...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS and CPI

You're looking at maybe the shortest-running British comic ever printed!  IPC's THUNDER lasted twenty-two issues back in the '70s, as did JET not long afterwards, and, in the mid-'80s, SCREAM! vanished after fifteen.  No doubt there are quite a few examples of other comics that didn't survive too long, but I'm wondering if there was ever one that lasted less than the three-issue, fortnightly, CONAN The ADVENTURER in 1994.  That's a mere month before it stumbled to a halt.

I believe it was meant as a tie-in to a TV cartoon of the same name, which accounts for the classic BARRY SMITH Conan The Barbarian reprints being re-titled to match, but the comic obviously just never sold.  I've no idea if the cartoon series was any more popular with TV viewers in the U.K., but I suspect not, otherwise the comic would doubtless have been more successful.

Note that on issue #3's cover, it only says Conan, the rest of the logo having disappeared.  An oversight or deliberate?  Who knows?  Not me for sure.  Anyway, enjoy feasting your eyes on the covers and splash pages of one of the shortest comic runs in history - Conan The Cancelled!

The splash page to issue #1

Don't forget that clicking on any of the above images will enlarge them (it's well worth it), then clicking again will display them at optimum size.  By Crom!  Do I spoil you Crivs or what?!

OBSESSION AND SOME PRIME EXAMPLES...

Part of pencil drawing done as a teenager

I see my usual detractor is slagging me off again over on the pages and comment sections of his own blog.  Conveniently ignoring the fact that my few posts about a certain comic's falling sales are of interest to people on a blog about comics, he tries to paint the subject as an obsession of mine.  Rich, coming from someone who goes into full obsessional assault mode whenever a newspaper happens to print something about comics with which he disagrees, usually decrying it as an "anti-comic witch-hunt".

The fact that he needs to go back about 60 years for ammunition to try and support his 'pet' case on every occasion seems to me to be a prime example of something which qualifies as an obsession.  He was obviously bullied at school, and now appears to be trying to get his own back on those he takes a dislike to for all the times he had his head stuck down the toilet.  A case of being 'flushed with excess' perhaps?  Or being exposed to a 'bad effluence'?  (Thank you - I'm here all week.)

The fact that he also attributes every anonymous dissenting comment (on any topic) to the same person is another perfect example of 'obsession', to say nothing of delusion.  (It's also a pathetic and desperate attempt to create the impression that any opposing opinion to his is a minority one.)  As is me not being able to express a point of view on my own blog without a snide, negative comment by him on his (or someone else's).  The facts speak for themselves.  A comic is given a facelift and loses half its readership in a few months.  So far, no-one involved has been man enough to admit they got it wrong.  Instead, they prefer to gripe and take potshots at me for calling it like it is.

Let's be clear: the only reason he tries these tactics is because he thinks he can embarrass critics into silence if he casts enough negative aspersions their way in an attempt to cast doubt on their motivations.  The simple truth is this: the endeavour supported by him and his 'L' Plate pals (some just out of nappies going by their comments) was a massive failure, and he'd much prefer if the subject would just go away until people have forgotten about it.  That's the thing about self-styled 'experts' - they don't like to be so publicly wrong, nor to be reminded of it when they are.  

Time the boy grew up I think.  (And his tediously sycophantic cronies.) 

The PICTORIAL ARTS...

Big Thom

For those of you who like a blog with a lot of class (just like my own of course), you can't do better than to visit artist and photographer THOMAS HALLER BUCHANAN's site, The PICTORIAL ARTS.  Lots of lovely pictures, loads of wit and wisdom, and, if I'm not very much mistaken, going by his name he's of Scottish ancestry. If he shaved off his beard, he'd probably make a great JAMES BOND. (Make one out of the hair of his beard I mean.  A little hairy one.)

When you've been spoiled by all the sophisticated elegance of Thom's entrancing site, you can always come back here for more of my rapier wit, philosophical speculations, and elucidating insights - to say nothing of my usual gas-filled ramblings about anything and everything under the sun.  (So, if it rains, I'll be stuck for something to say.  Whaddya mean, you're praying for rain?)  There may even be some deluded soul trying to start a rammy with me, with any luck.  I seem to get a fair share of malcontents as well as all the wise and wonderful peeps (like Thom) who visit this humble place.

So, what on earth are you lot still hanging around here for?  Take yourselves off over to http://mydelineatedlife.blogspot.com/ and get edjumacated.

POLITICIANS? DON'T GET ME STARTED...

Politicians, eh?  While they feather their nests with cosy pensions, travel expenses, food and second home allowances, and all sorts of other top perks that no one in an 'ordinary' job ever gets to see, they're currently targeting the most vulnerable people in society, the sick, the poor, and the elderly.  The ones who don't enjoy the 'benefits system' that the politicians get to exploit.

Old people now have to work longer before they can retire (thereby exposing the nonsense of Tomorrow's World, which once assured us that, in 'the future', we'd all have much more leisure time), and people in wheelchairs and with cancer (I kid you not) are now having pressure put on them (under the false description of 'assisting' them) to return to the 'jobs market'.  (At a time when there are far fewer employment opportunities around than ever.)

Not only do some politicians pick up 'attendance fees' (actually paid for turning up for work on top of their wages - strewth), all of them have access to 25 subsidised bars in the House of Commons and goodness knows exactly how many canteens or restaurants.  Just think - those who already have far too much handed to them on a plate (literally), can partake of the finest wines, ales and spirits in the world - for a nominal fee - while you have to pay full price for your pint of Stella in a dirty glass down your local pub on a Friday night.  (A little hyperbole in that last part, but don't worry, it's free.)

And as you wonder if you have enough money to afford that microwave meal for one and a can of Coke, they tuck into a king's banquet of the most tantalisingly-delicious meals available - all laid on at our expense.  Aren't they supposed to work for us?  Do tell, pray, why they get to dictate to their collective employer (that's you and me, buster), the terms, conditions and remunerative fee for sitting about on their fat @rses all day, stuffing their faces with the best bevvy and grub that our taxed-to-the-hilt dosh can buy for them.

Remember when Norman Tebbitt told us all to "get on our bikes" and look for work?  That's rich coming from some titled tit who has at least two homes, one of which the taxpayer pays for, so that him and his spoiled ilk don't have to get on their own bikes; or rather in one of their several luxury cars which adorn the mono-blocked driveways of their country estates (or London apartments).  No sirree.  We pay their first-class transport costs to and from the plush offices in which they're supposed to toil on our behalf.  Make you sick or what?

The so-called benefit reforms currently under way, spring from nothing more than a resentment by the 'haves' of society, who begrudge having to part with even the most minimal portion of their over-abundance in order to assist the poorest and most unfortunate amongst us, the 'have nots'.

Of course, there are those who abuse the system, and no decent person is happy with the situation, but the amount of unclaimed benefit which never finds its way to those entitled to it probably far outweighs the sum collected by the spongers and malingerers in our midst.  It is certainly significant, but you don't see the government putting as much effort into ensuring that it finds its way to those who need and deserve it.

Don't be fooled:  this is Robin Hood in reverse.  (More like Robbin' B@st@rds in fact.)  The rich are stealing from the poor, the better to weather the continuing downturn in the economic climate.

Politicians?  Nothing but money-grubbing, self-serving, cheating, lying b@st@rds!

Or do you think I'm over-reacting?