HERE COME The SUPER-HEROES...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

Back in March of 1975, MARVEL U.K. released two new weekly comics on an unsuspecting British public - The SUPER-HEROES and SAVAGE SWORD Of CONAN.  We'll turn our attention to the Conan mag another time because, for the moment, we're going to look at the more successful of the two titles.

  

Initially, The Super-Heroes reprinted The SILVER SURFER from NORRIN RADD's 18 issue U.S. monthly mag from the '60s.  Taking up the slack in the back were The X-MEN, their adventures being split in twain and continued the following week.  (Seeing those early X-Men adventures was just like having the late, lamented FANTASTIC back again.)  In fact, as the Surfer's first 7 American mags were double-sized, the same approach was adopted for his adventures also, until such time as his regular-sized tales were featured.

The Super-Heroes lasted just under a year, bowing out with issue #50 (Conan only lasted 18 issues) and merging with the weekly SPIDER-MAN comic.  In its time it managed to showcase GIANT-MAN, The CAT, DOC SAVAGE, and some MARVEL TWO-IN-ONE tales of The THING and various guest stars.  It was never better though, than in its early issues, and it was sad to see it go when it eventually faded from the scene.  The name (sans hyphen) was later revived for a British monthly magazine called MARVEL SUPERHEROES in 1979, but it was never quite the same, sad to say.  There were even at least three hardback annuals by GRANDREAMS before the title disappeared yet again, for the final time, alas.

50 issues?  Is that all?  Funny how, when I look back, it seems that the comic lasted far longer than a mere 49 weeks of my life.  Surely it was around for a couple of years at least?  (Nope, I guess not.)  I still have my original issues and, sometimes, whenever I want to revisit yesteryear, I dig them out yet again and savour the sight, smell and touch of these classic comics from nearly 40 years ago.  Then, somehow, I'm magically back in the past and 16 years old once more, reliving the thrill of settling down with the latest Mighty Marvel mag from the House of Ideas!  What more could any true, dyed in the wool Marvelite want?  (Apart from a coveted 'No-Prize'.)

Anyway, as I'm feeling nostalgic, here's the first three covers to give you a taste of what I'm talking about.  Enjoy.

FIELD OF DREAMS...

The spot these children are standing on no longer exists - at least not in the form you see in the photographs.  Approximately 21 years after the pictures were taken, the foundations for amenity housing for the elderly were laid directly into the area of field where these kids once played.  I'm actually in the photos and remember with startling clarity the Sunday afternoon or early summer evening they were taken back around 1967 or so.

As you can see, we were playing cricket.  Only a short while before, I had narrowly managed to dodge a heavy cricket ball and thus avoid a nasty knock on the noggin which could well have rendered me senseless.  (Go on - I'll allow you the predictable retort.)

From left to right in the photo above are myself, Robert Fortune, Tony Tierney, Allan Robson and Kenny Tierney.  The photos were taken by Tom Tierney, who later became a regular contributor to the letter columns of the local newspaper, under the nom de plume of 'Goofy'.  If he were alive today, he'd no doubt have a blog in which to record his whimsical (and sometimes serious) observations on sundry subjects, but sadly he's been deceased for quite a few years now.

When we first moved to the area in 1965, it was Tony Tierney who introduced me and my brother to the rest of the kids in the neighbourhood.  I haven't seen Tony in quite a few years, but I still run into Kenny today from time to time*, and it was his good self who supplied me with the photos you see on this page.  As I said, the field no longer exists - except in photos, memories and dreams - dreams which increasingly seem far more enticing than the rather drab reality of the here and now.

*(Update: Sadly, Kenny passed away in March 2021.)

Photographs are marvellous things, aren't they?  Looking at a photo is like gazing through a window into yesteryear, at a moment frozen in time which grows all the more precious to us the further we become removed from it.

******

Update: (June 2013.)  The field remained undisturbed until 1988, a period of 23 years from when we first moved there in '65 (we flitted in '72).  I therefore find it rather startling to think that the amenity housing has now occupied the spot for 25 years - two years longer than the time which preceded it.  And yet it seems to me as if the three-storey building was erected only a few years ago.  The mysteries of Time, eh?  I don't think I'll ever be able to fully comprehend them.

 Long has paled that sunny sky;

Echoes fade and memories die;

Autumn frosts have slain July.

Ever drifting down the stream--

Lingering in the golden gleam--

Life, what is it but a dream?

From "Life is but a Dream" - by Lewis Carroll.

******

After posting this, I was going through some old newspapers and found this letter from my local rag, dated Wednesday 24th April - Thursday 30th April, 1996.

Goofy will be  missed

I was saddened to read and hear

of the death of Mr Tom Tierney, a

great story teller in your column

and other publications in his life.

He brought many a smile, with

his wit and local stories bringing

back many a cheery laugh.

My thoughts to his family.

Ann Robertson

Address supplied 

This post is therefore dedicated to the memory of Mr. Tom Tierney, aka 'Goofy'.  Thanks to him, the above snapshots preserve a moment from my childhood forever.

******

For more about Mr. Tom Tierney, click here.

MORE 2000 A.D. BIRTHDAY BABBLINGS...

It's doubtless because it's 2000 A.D.'s 35th birthday this week that I've recently found myself thinking back to when I used to be a contributor to the iconic comic for several years, regularly lettering the adventures of characters like STRONTIUM DOG and ROGUE TROOPER, as well as (from time to time) JUDGE DREDD, THARG'S FUTURE SHOCKS, NEMESIS The WARLOCK, SLAINE - and a whole host of others.

Unlike the way American comics were mainly lettered in the '60s & '70s - actually onto the pencilled page before inking - British comics had a different system, the lettering being done on what was known as 'patch paper' and then stuck down onto the finished art.  In the case of colour artwork, the lettering was applied to sheets of acetate film and processed separately, so that if the artwork was printed out of sync (giving a blurred, double-vision effect) the lettering wouldn't be similarly afflicted.

Most lettering nowadays, of course, is done on computer, but once upon a time letterers had to mark their guidelines on a sheet of patch paper and letter by hand within the lines.  Some letterers, like BILL NUTTALL for example, used a lightbox, with the guidelines already marked out on that.  He simply placed the patch paper over the box and lettered straight onto it, thereby cutting out having to line each individual piece or sheet of patch.  Sometimes JOHNNY ALDRICH didn't use guidelines at all, but lettered straight onto the patch paper.

Incidentally, patch paper was a generic term for adhesive paper which came in different finishes - matt or gloss - and even in various degrees of finishes.  Too glossy and the ink line got thicker as work progressed (due to the ink spreading out on the surface of the sheet); too 'matty' and the line was too thin, with the penpoint catching on the surface as if it were blotting paper.  One had to have just the right degree of gloss to be able to letter smoothly and quickly without any hiccups. TAC-TIC was the brand name of one paper, and FASSON CRACK-BACK another.

Whether it was done the U.S. or U.K. way, quite a few lettering artists used the 'rolling ruler' device in the above picture, enabling them to mark out enough lines for one or two speech balloons at a time.  I found it too restricting, preferring instead to line a full sheet of patch paper on my STAEDTLER MARS-TECHNICO drawing board (below), thereby avoiding the 'start-stop' approach employed by most other lettering artists. I usually got about four or five pages to each sheet of patch.

I remember one day, as I was lining my paper on the desk opposite STEVE MacMANUS's in the 2000 A.D. offices (Room 2012), legendary letterer TOM FRAME watched me for a moment before asking: "Do you do your lettering on the board?"  I explained that I only measured out the guidelines on the board, preferring to letter the sheet of patch on a flat desktop.  "I wondered," he said, "because the edge of the board would dig into your arm.  It would be too uncomfortable."  I agreed, but pointed out the benefits of being able to do all the guidelines in one go on a complete sheet of patch, rather than bit-by-bit as one went along.  He never bought one though, so I guess he remained unconvinced.

Tom Frame

Speaking of Tom reminds me of the ol' bumblebee paradox that bees shouldn't be able to fly because, aerodynamically, they're not best designed for flight.  Tom's lettering was a little bit like that.  Actual size, it was too high, too narrow, and a little bit scratchy-looking due to his failing eyesight.  It shouldn't have worked - but, in print, it did, and Tom's lettering is considered by many fans as integral to the 'look' of Dredd's strip as anything else which contributed to it.  Tom's best work though, in my humble estimation, was the innumerable page of lettering he did for various IPC/FLEETWAY publications back in the '60s, before his sight started to deteriorate.

I recall going to a nearby wine bar one evening with Tom and Stevie Mac, as well as SIMON GELLER, ROBIN SMITH, and PAUL AILEY (I think - might be LEATHERLAND), where I watched them play Pool as I nursed a Coke and listened to JIM REEVES on the jukebox.  This was unusual for me, because I usually worked in KING'S REACH TOWER up to at least nine at night, finishing off as many ltg jobs as I could before heading for Victoria Station and my nearly nine hours trip home.  That night, I must've been ahead of schedule, hence my being able to relax for a bit.  When the time came to head for the station, I remember sharing a taxi with Steve MacManus as he was going in the same direction for part of the way.

Sadly, Tom died from cancer in 2006, at the age of 74.  ALAN McKENZIE (a later editor on the comic) had helped him to transfer his lettering fonts onto a computer programme a few years before, allowing him to continue a career which failing eyesight might otherwise have curtailed.  It would be nice if the current owners of the comic, REBELLION, could come to an arrangement with Tom's family for permission to use his fonts on the Dredd strip, thus perpetuating the unique look that graced it for so many years.

Anyway, that's enough rambling from me for the moment.  Pick up a copy of 2000 A.D. today - before your future becomes your past!

SUPERMAN - BACK TO FULL POWER...

Copyright DC COMICS

It's hard for me to believe that this comic is over 21 years old, but sure enough, it first hit the stands back in 1990 - a whole other century away, in fact.  Wow, scary!  Anyway, the more discerning amongst you will already have noticed that the cover illo is paying homage to AURORA's fantastic SUPERMAN plastic model kit, which first came out around 1964.  The model was re-released a further four times over the years, 1974, '78, and '84, the last time being in 1999.  I'm fortunate enough to have all five versions of the kit, so below is a pic of one of them, just so that you can see what a great job JERRY ORDWAY did of the cover illustration.

It looks like Jerry was using a later reissue of the kit as reference, which had a different, updated head, and not the one featured in the accompanying photograph.  Still, it gives you the chance to see what a fine job he did in capturing the power-packed pose of the mighty MAN Of TOMORROW!

The model pictured is the 1974 release, with the addition of a 1964 nameplate which was only ever included in the first issue of the kit.  Below is the box which the model came in.  I'm not 100% sure, but the box art may be by DAVE COCKRUM.

REMEMBERING JOHN RENWICK... (Updated)

John Renwick in his church office in the mid-'80s

On my answerphone is a message I haven't yet erased - and I'm not sure I ever will.  As long as it's there, I can listen to it every so often and it's almost like he's still alive and left it only moments ago.  Sadly, he isn't, having died from cancer at the far too young age of 60 (or there-abouts), leaving a widow, Irene, and two adult children, John Anthony and Deborah.  The knowledge that I'll never again get to speak with him is a sad and sobering thought.

JOHN RENWICK was a minister I met in April or May of 1978 when I was a mere callow youth of 19.  (John was in his late 20s at the time, which is far younger than I am now.)  I attended his church one night, being at a loose end - and because free tea and biscuits had been advertised for after the service.  Free scoffs?  Lead on, MacDuff.

Gordon Shields (another minister), me, and John in 1978 or '79

John, originally from the Edinburgh area, had relocated to my home town sometime in the '70s (I think) and didn't stay too far away from me.  Subsequently, I would often drop in on him for a game of darts or chess (and sometimes even both), and we would sit and discuss the merits of the JAMES BOND movies and whether any singer ever had a smoother, more velvety voice than country crooner JIM REEVES.

Sometime in the late '80s or early '90s, John and his family moved to Stirling.  I spoke to him on the 'phone every so often, and on occasion met with him and Irene when they were back to visit various other friends they had in the area.  He often invited me over to his new home, and equally as often I promised to visit - but somehow the years raced away without me ever doing so, despite my best intentions.

John and me playing darts around '81/'82 - in a rather camp manner it appears, in my case

Then one day a mutual friend told me John had been receiving treatment for bowel cancer.  I 'phoned him when I heard the news, to express my concern and to ask after him.  Somehow I got the impression he was over the worst of it and would make a full recovery, and if John knew or suspected otherwise he never let on to me.  (Unless I was just too obtuse to pick up on it.)

One afternoon, in 2010, John 'phoned - I missed him by mere seconds, but after listening to my answerphone, I called him right back and we nattered away for 20 minutes or so, with John once again inviting me to visit and me once more promising to do so at the earliest opportunity.  I'm sure you know where this is going.  Sadly, John died not too long after, without me ever getting the chance to keep my word.  It's only now, with hindsight, I wonder if he knew his days were numbered and the call was his way of saying goodbye in case we never got to meet again.

Poor quality photocopy of a pencil sketch of John, circa 1980/'81

What can I say?  Time flies by so quickly, it seemed John had only moved two or three years before, rather than the 20 or so it actually was.  I wish I'd made more of an effort now - had managed to get on a train and journeyed to Stirling to visit John and his family, instead of feeling guilty for missing an opportunity which is now forever lost to me.

Maybe one day I'll make that journey and visit Irene.  And if so, I'm sure John will be there too, in spirit at least, to welcome me as I finally fulfil the promise I made to him all those years ago.

 

John and me in his church office in the mid-'80s

******

Update: Sadly, on the 30th November 2014, I discovered that John's answer-phone message was inadvertently wiped after I unplugged my telephone to facilitate a new carpet being laid the evening before.  The backup battery for preserving messages ran low during the night, and John's last call to me was lost forever.  Fortunately, many years ago, I'd recorded one of John's sermons, so I'll still be able to listen to his voice whenever the fancy takes me.  However, I'll miss being able to play his last message to me and hear him saying "Hello Gordon", as if he was just on the other end of the line and alive and as fresh as a daisy.

John & Irene on the night of October 19th 1987.  Photo by me

Me on the same night.  Photo by John

******

Another Update:  A couple of months or so back, while going through my writing desk cubicles, I found a card from John that I forgot I had.  In it he refers to music, which, in one instance, happened to be The GREAT COMPOSERS, and in the other, JIM REEVES cassettes I'd given him.  I already had the full set of Composers on vinyl, but John had the set on tape.  I asked him if I could borrow one particular tape to make a copy, as I wanted to avoid any surface noises or clicks on the record, and he kindly said I could keep the original and give him the copy.  So I did, and thanked him profusely for his generosity.  I must've also had a bit of a moan about the attitude of certain editors, which is what John is alluding to on the card, which I received a short time later.  Here, I'll let you read it for yourselves.

2000 A.D. - HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY...

Copyright REBELLION

I wasn't going to bother marking 2000 A.D.'s 35th birthday.  All the other comic blogs will most likely be doing something, I thought, so is there any real point?  Yes, is the answer on reflection.

After all, it was 2000 A.D. that gave me my first big break when they employed me to letter a THARG'S FUTURE SHOCKS story (EXTRA! EXTRA!) back in January of 1985.  (That said, my first published IPC work [not counting a back-page drawing inked and tweaked by KEN REID in a 1973 issue of SHIVER & SHAKE] was a CAP'N & The KIDS strip in WHIZZER & CHIPS.  So, to celebrate the comic of the future's lengthy run, I now present some hopefully pertinent ponderings from a purely personal perspective.

I have to be honest - I was never a great fan of 2000 A.D. when it first came out.  I remember buying the first issue on February 19th, 1977, and probably bought the next few issues, but it never really grabbed me so I soon gave up on it.  Two years later, in 1979, a feature on the new JAMES BOND movie, MOONRAKER, started me buying it again for several weeks.  Then the printing changed from web offset and the comic didn't look quite so good, so I dropped it like the proverbial hot potato, fickle lickle fecker that I was.  I still continued to buy the occasional holiday special though.

So why bother seeking work on the comic then, if I wasn't a huge fan?  Simply because STEVE MacMANUS and the 2000 A.D. crew were attending a Glasgow comic mart back in October 1984 and I decided to go along and show them my samples. I had determined to do so several weeks before, after a spell of unemployment, and I thought it was time to put the 'gift' that friends kept telling me I had to good use.  When I look back on it now, it was a doddle - no hard slog, no years of constant rejection, no agonizing over whether I was ever going to make the big time - simply "Here's some lettering samples, any chance you could you give me some work?"

However, I really wanted to pursue an art career, so lettering was merely a way of getting my foot in the door.  It had worked for WALLY WOOD and DAVE GIBBONS, so why not for myself?  Thing is, I got as much lettering work as I could handle, plus a chance to use my drawing skills on various IPC comic libraries, annuals and holiday specials, so I never had the time (or the inclination, to be honest) to do much more about it.  I was soon earning good money, so why take the risk of 'switching lanes' and doing something else?  Besides, lettering was easy and I could turn out many more pages of calligraphy a day than I ever could of artwork. By that I mean artwork I was happy with.

I remember lettering a CHARLIE'S WAR strip for BATTLE one day, at a desk in their offices, and looking at the detail in JOE COLQUHOUN's artwork - each panel would've probably taken me several days to draw, what with soldiers, tanks, battlefields, etc.  I'd have been lucky to turn out a page a week, not counting time required for research, so I quietly (and easily) abandoned any full-time aspirations I may've had in that direction.  Comicbook artists don't just get to draw the things they like, but also have to meet the artistic requirements of subjects in which they often have little or no interest.  I'd settle for making a living in the medium I loved, but without the blood, sweat and tears involved.

However, I recognized that 2000 A.D. was the jewel in IPC's crown at that time, and had a huge respect for it.  I was proud of my association (minor as it was) with the comic, and always strove to do the best job possible, redoing speech balloons or 'sound' effects I wasn't happy with.

And it was great to get work on all the other titles which were extant at that time: WHIZZER & CHIPS, BUSTER, SCHOOL FUN, WOW!, WHOOPEE!, etc.  One or two of these weeklies may only have survived in the form of specials and annuals, but it gave me a huge buzz to work on them nonetheless.  I remember lettering a strip by LEO BAXENDALE's son, MARTIN, which was just as much a thrill as if it had been his dad.  It was a link to my past.

They say that things must come full circle, and such was my experience.  My comics career started at 2000 A.D. and finished in 2000 A.D. (the actual year I mean), an ironic profundity which isn't lost on me.  The reasons are many and varied, but far too boring to go into in this already over-long personal reminiscence which I hope will be of interest to someone. 

I have many fond memories of working on 2000 A.D. and take great pride in having done so during part of the period that many people regard as its 'golden years', when Steve MacManus was at the helm.  It's the last surviving link to a time when there was a thriving boys' weekly adventure comics empire in this country.  So happy birthday to The GALAXY'S GREATEST COMIC, and here's to at least another 35 years - for all of us!  "SPLUNDIG VUR THRIGG!"

JUST WALKIN' IN THE RAIN...?

Outside, it's a wet and windy day.  The rain lashes the streets with unrelenting fervour as, from my window, I observe a few bedraggled passers-by scurry for shelter or in pursuit of some purpose know only to themselves.  The sky is grey and ominous, clouds swirl overhead in regal, grim-miened majesty, contemptuously regarding us mere mortals as the lowly ants we undoubtedly are.

And that's the weather forecast for today.

However, cosily ensconced within the comfortable confines of my comics covered cubbyhole, I luxuriate in the warmth emanating from the radiator and concern myself with what pithy (no, I don't have a lisp), profound and poignant comments I can bestow upon my eager audience, who look to me to lighten and brighten their unbearable burden by bedazzling them with the wit and wisdom which so freely pours forth from my meaningful, methodical and monumental mind. 

Oh, what lucky people you are.

When I was a boy in Belmont, we had an outside 'garden cellar' (as did most houses in the street), in which we stored coal in one half and garden tools (lawnmower, spades, etc.) in the other.  (It was called a cellar even though it wasn't underground, but apparently the term is not misapplied in such circumstances.)  On rainy days I'd sit on a deckchair inside the bigger-sized half with the door slightly ajar, reading comics and listening to the rain pattering off the pavement and caressing the concrete roof under which I ever-so-snugly sheltered.

Even today, I find it a supremely calming experience to sit in a car in the rain and listen to the drops rattling on the roof in their staccato, tinny-sounding fashion.  There's a wonderfully diverse quality to rain; when one is out walking in it, it invigorates, it refreshes, and it cleanses.  Yet, when one takes the time to regard its presence in quiet contemplation from the comfort of a dry haven, it also relaxes the mind and soothes the soul.

Sadly, refuge in the garden cellar of my youth is a couple of houses ago and many years in the past.  However, I can still seek sanctuary in its shadows with one short step into the hallowed halls of memory.  As Cicero himself said: "Memory is the treasury and guardian of all things."  Failing that, of course, I can always go and sit in my nice new acrylic garden shed and listen to the rain pitter-patter all around me, the door half-open to allow me to watch it in silent awe.

******

Incidentally, the photo below was taken about twenty years ago outside the very cellar mentioned, around twenty years after I had moved from the house.  How did I manage that, do I hear you ask?  Ah, but that's a story for another time.

The TERRIFIC ORIGIN Of RICK JONES' TEEN-BRIGADE...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

Actually, there's nothing particularly terrific about the origin of The TEEN BRIGADE - or of RICK JONES.  And, to be honest, I hate teenagers - all teenagers.  Time they brought back conscription (now that I'm too old for it).  That's what they need - a good old-fashioned dose of discipline.  Get the unruly, rowdy, little hooligans off the streets and teach them how to march, peel spuds, spit-polish army boots, get super-fit - and - and - er, kill people.  (Wait a minute - I think I can see a flaw in my thinking.)

Anyway, here's their origin.  Try to ignore the clumsy 'drawing-up' in some of the panels, difficult as that might be.

"...Of CABBAGES And KINGS..."

Writing a blog can be hazardous at times.  It seems that there are those out there in 'Internet land' who are simply waiting for someone to express their opinion on a topic so that they can pounce on it and deride, mock, ridicule, and cast scorn in a piously condescending way as if those they oppose are intellectually retarded in some way.  (And, let's face it - sometimes they are.)  It happens to everyone who blogs and I'm no exception.

Having a blog requires having something to write about.  And sometimes it requires needing something to write about when new ideas are thin on the ground.  If there's a space, it has to be filled.  Believe it or not, this very site gets visited many thousands of times every month by people looking for something to read and I hate to disappoint them.  I discuss mainly comics and collectables, though sometimes indulge in personal reminiscences and social comment.  Even then, however, I try to include some kind of reference to comics, tenuous as it may be.

Sometimes I revisit a topic because there's something more I want to say on the matter, or I think it might be of interest to someone, or I simply can't think of anything else to comment upon.  Due to the intended scope of this blog, I'm somewhat restricted by certain 'parameters' and don't like to stray too far beyond them.  That sometimes necessitates a certain amount of repetition of subject matter, but I take the view that not everyone will have read my previous posts and therefore some topics can bear another outing.  Just like comics, every post is someone's first.

I must confess, therefore, that I find it irksome when I hear of certain people accusing me of having an 'agenda' or an 'obsession'.  As it happens, I do have an agenda - but it's merely to inform and to entertain and, yes - perhaps sometimes even to educate - in some small way on various details.  The 'agenda' I'm accused of, however, is ascribed to me by one particular person in a pathetic attempt to cast doubt on my motives for commenting, and to diminish my opinion on matters of which I actually know a fair bit about from many years of personal experience.  (Fifteen of which were in a professional capacity.)

His issues with me spring mainly from him having an opposing view to my own in regard to one particular topic.  (Regular readers will doubtless know to whom and what I refer.)  Others share his perspective of course, but tend to be far less 'enthused' about it than he is.  Lest anyone think I'm developing a persecution complex, far from it.  I'm well aware that my 'detractors' consist of (at most) a handful of people with a vested interest in shouting me down and undermining my credibility.  I find such efforts amusing for the most part, but they can also be irritating on occasion when they resort to distortion and misrepresentation in pursuit of their aims.

It is, in equal measure, both hilarious and annoying to see one particular person consider his dismissive comments, sly innuendo, attribution of false motives, thinly-veiled insults, patronising attitude, condescending manner, and supercilious remarks over the course of many months as being a 'restrained and mature' reaction.  This from someone who seems to see me lurking behind every anonymous comment on his blog that disagrees with him on any matter.  Now, there's obsession for you.

Sad thing is, he doesn't seem to realise that, if he didn't indulge in this sort of thing, I wouldn't be boring the pants off everyone by having to address this 'mature and restrained' fantasies. 

So, let's be clear.  On this blog, any thoughts, theories, or observations I opine on comics (any comic) spring from my lifelong love of, interest in, and devotion to them - not from the figment of someone else's imagination or delusion, who, it seems to me, is guilty of pursuing his own personal agenda when it comes to anyone expressing a point of view at odds with his own.

'Nuff said!  (Hopefully.)      

The TERRIFIC ORIGIN Of CAPTAIN AMERICA...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

At first glance, a strip featuring the adventures of a red, white and blue, star-spangled, shield-slinging U.S. super-soldier of WWII isn't something which would seem to have any great chance of making much of an impression on the more reserved comics-buying tastes of the great British public.  Nevertheless, being the creation of American patriotic fervour back in the dark days of the 1940s didn't seem to deter U.K. readers from taking the wing-helmeted hero to their hearts.

Here we see how STEVE ROGER's alter-ego, CAPTAIN AMERICA, came to exist in the swingin' sixties - a man out of his time, but not out of his depth.  I don't think the POWER COMICS ever revealed Cap's actual origin - how a rejected army volunteer was given a dose of a 'super-soldier' serum and was transformed into the epitome of physical perfection.  He was intended to be the first of many such soldiers, but unfortunately the serum's creator was killed by an enemy agent before any more of the formula could be produced.

We also see how Cap's teeanage sidekick, BUCKY, bit the dust while trying to disarm a booby-trapped drone plane as it took off from an army base somewhere in Europe. Personally, I can't stand teenage sidekicks, so I say "good-riddance" to the little buggah!  (Unfortunately, they've recently brought him back into current continuity by revealing that he survived his apparent death.)

Here, then, is how Captain America joined The AVENGERS.

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     COMING SOON: The Terrific origin of RICK JONES' TEEN BRIGADE!    

The TERRIFIC ORIGIN Of GIANT-MAN & The WASP...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

When scientist HENRY (HANK) PYM first appeared in the MARVEL universe, the tale was intended as a one-off adventure without the slightest notion of any superheroic possibilities whatsoever.  However, in the wake of the success of The FANTASTIC FOUR, he was dusted-down and promoted to the position of crime-fighting superhero, and given a natty new colourful costume as befitted his elevated status.  (Well, as elevated as anyone the size of an insect can be, that is.)  Perhaps realising that being ant-sized is hardly liable to strike terror into the hearts of evil-doers everywhere (or even anywhere), ol' Hank soon went the opposite way in the height department, becoming the goliath know as GIANT-MAN.  

Pretty soon he was joined by wealthy socialite JANET VAN DYNE, who adopted the alias of The WASP - aptly named, because she was as irritating as an itchy anus. (Bit of a 'looker' though, so that was some compensation.)  Giant-Man was faced with some pretty lame opponents and would probably have faded into obscurity had he not lucked-out and joined The MIGHTY AVENGERS.  He later changed his name to GOLIATH, then his identity to YELLOW-JACKET, and then came an on-going musical chairs number in which he could never quite make up his mind as to exactly who he wanted to be.  Or maybe I just grew confused and lost interest along the way.  Same difference.

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COMING SOON: The Terrific origin of CAPTAIN AMERICA!

UPDATE: The DANDY - 'HUGE' RISE In SALES - EXTENDED EDITION...

Images copyright D.C. THOMSON & Co., Ltd

Interesting to see that some of those who disapprove of me mentioning the declining sales of The DANDY (although apparently it sold a whole 41 more copies in the last six months than previously), are doing the very same thing on another forum.  Double standards perhaps?  I note that one commentator took an oblique dig at me, while spectacularly failing to adequately explain why the comic, if it's as instantly popular as he claims amongst any kids who get their hands on a copy, was abandoned by half of its readership in only a few months after its most recent relaunch back in 2010.

 

As for his assertion that the (alleged) appreciation by some children of the more controversially-drawn strips is proof of their 'quality', well - no, it isn't, actually.  It's only proof that those who like the strips like the strips - and sadly there aren't enough of them.  The fact that around half the former readership jettisoned the comic tends to confirm that more people don't like them than do.  By itself, of course, this does not necessarily prove lack of quality - but in my humble opinion, having compared certain strips to the best examples of their kind - it undoubtedly is a major part of the problem.

Also nice to see him propose an idea of mine for distributing free back issues to schools around the country in an attempt to revive and increase the readership.  I made this suggestion on the downthetubes forum last year.  Seems my critics don't disagree with me on everything, eh?

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I've just learned that, over on another blog, a certain individual continues to trot out the myth that, because some other comics and publications have also recently suffered a varying (and comparatively slight) decline in sales, then this is proof that The Dandy's low figures are down to other factors than the contents being below par.  I have to ask - just what planet is this person on?  Nobody, least of all myself, has ever denied other factors certainly play a part - perhaps even a major one - in the general decline of comics (and other once-popular pursuits) over the years.

However, here is the important difference (and I must've said it at least half-a-dozen times by now) - no other comic (to my knowledge) has suffered such a dramatic decrease in sales in such a short space of time in the history of the medium.  That simply cannot be attributed to general factors - it must surely be as a result of something specific to The Dandy itself.  Only the very hard-of-thinking could fail to reach such an inescapable conclusion.

It lost half its readership in six months, directly following a relaunch that has come in for much negative criticism in the press, from the public, and on other forums.  (And don't forget the seven thousand or so former readers who registered their rejection of the content by ceasing to buy the comic.)  That's more than the "couple of critics" to which he so glibly and inaccurately refers in an attempt to downplay the significance of their opinion.  (A typical manoeuvre of his.)

And to suggest that anyone's critical observations spring from a desire to demoralise the editor, writers and artists, etc., is another of the common misrepresentations to which he frequently resorts.  We're merely trying to get them to acknowledge the situation and do something about it - which will never happen while they continue in their state of denial and refuse to accept their share of responsibility for the comic's current sad state.

He can bury his head in the sand all he wants, or deny the facts and distort the circumstances 'til he's blue in the face and the cows come home, but his lame protestations and impotent attempts to embarrass into silence or dismiss the opinions of those who are only stating the truth will not alter the reality of the situation.  Which is simply this:

He's talking through his @rse. 

The TERRIFIC ORIGIN Of THOR...

Copyright MARVEL COMICS

For any readers who may've thought that certain aspects of the origin of THOR The MIGHTY were a tad too SF orientated, this was rectified by TERRIFIC excising any reference to The STONE MEN From SATURN from its two-page recounting of the tale.  Only the bare essentials were required to bring new readers up to speed on the history of big daddy ODIN's hammer-hurling, blond-haired lad from across the Rainbow Bridge.

"But ours is a drama decreed by the fates to be acted out!  Nothing can stop it!  Nothing can change it!  Watch and see..."  And acted out it was, filling us in on how DON BLAKE's Asgardian alter-ego came to be.  Having satiated our appetite for Norse Thunder-gods with long hair, we were next made acquainted with the size-changing contingent of the team - but that's a titanic tale for another time.  Be sure not to miss it!

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COMING SOON: The Terrific origin of GIANT-MAN & The WASP!