RECOMMENDED READING: THE DEFENDERS #1...

Image copyright MARVEL COMICS

The cover is misleading because none of these characters actually appear inside (that I can see), but it's nice to see yet another JACK KIRBY image on a contemporary comic.  I've read it and enjoyed it, and I'm betting you'll enjoy it too.  So get yourself around to your local comicbook store and pick up a copy of this great little mag for yourself today.

CRIVENS! GUEST POST BY JP: CHILDHOOD CAPERS - DOWN IN THE PITTS! FATHER HELPS FACILITATE SKYLIGHT VANDALISM...

Regular reader, the bold JP, has decided to respond to my invitation to write a post, so without further ado, here it is.

******

As a small boy, one day my Dad said to me "Son, I'm giving you this - it's all that remains of my childhood catapult.  It was a beltin' catapult, but it's all I've got left of me toys, an' I'm now givin' it to you, so look after it!"  He handed me a bare, gnarled, age-darkened Y-shaped piece of a tree branch, with a bit of grubby string bound around the handle.

Now jump forward a few years and the latest craze in our village was for metal (Milbro) catapults you could get from the ironmonger's, and which could fire marbles for miles because of its really strong rubber.  But they were just too pricey for me to buy, so I thought "Ah, I know!  I'll mek one me sen out a that 'un me faether gimme!"  (I don't know why I was talking like Kes, as I lived in the Midlands!)  So I took some strong rubber off an aeroplane-launching toy, made a slingshot and threaded the rubber through it and bound it tightly to the cut-out tips with strong thin string and it was made.  But would it be any good?

There was only one way to find out, so, armed with a bag of marbles, I climbed up on the bedroom windowsill, opened the window wide and let one fly!  Wow!  It went for miles!   It was just like a bullet!  But what should I aim at?  In the field behind our garden was a telegraph pole, but in the next field to the right, there was a pumping station with a glass skylight.

No contest.

And so I began showering the building with marbles!  As it was so far away I couldn't actually see or hear if I was hitting it or not, but it didn't matter, because in my head I was - The Smasher!

After a while, I was rudely interrupted by a very angry man in a boilersuit, standing below me in the back garden.  He was shaking both fists in the air and saying "Grrr!"  Red fumes were rising from his even redder face and steam was billowing out of his ears!  He had a huge lump on top of his head and his face was covered in scratches and crossed plasters.  "What do you think you're doing?!" he yelled up at me and began pounding on the back door.

"Get down here now!" he bellowed, so I went down to the back kitchen to face the music.  "He's been smashing my windows with his catapult!" Mr. Angry was yelling at my parents in incandescent rage.  "What were you doing that for?" he demanded of me, whilst little birds and stars circled the purple lump on his head.

"I didn't know I was," I lied, "I was aiming at the telegraph pole."

"Well, you're not a very good shot then!" he retorted.  "You're not even supposed to have a catapult, anyway!  Where did you get it?" he interrogated, with a stern look in his eye.

"Me Dad gimme it." I answered.

Then silence.

My Dad had turned bright red and wore a sickly grin.  Sweat was pouring down his forehead.  "Go and fetch it - I'm going to confiscate it!" Mr. Angry ordered, so I did as I was told.  Then I was sent to my room, so I climbed the stairs, saying "Bah!"

As I closed my bedroom window, I could see Mr. Angry down below, surrounded by these strange symbols - @#*%∆$#@!!

I never knew exactly what went on downstairs after that, but for the rest of that week my Dad had strangely taken to walking around the house with his trouser pockets turned inside-out!  Anyway, I stayed in my room for the remainder of that evening, and the next day, I thought it best not to mention the matter.  And guess what? Nobody spoke about it again - ever!

Which was probably for the best I suppose.

BABE Of The DAY - RAQUEL WELCH...

So there was RAQUEL WELCH

sunbathing next to the pool.  Feeling

bold, I asked her to take something off,

and she duly removed her sunglasses.

 She's one smart cookie, is Raquel.

LOOK WELL AT LOOKWELL...

Saw this on ATOMIC KOMMIE COMICS blog and just had to share it with you.  It's a 1991 pilot for a TV series that never happened.  I think it's very funny and I'm sure you will too.  And ADAM WEST is in top form.  This is one that should have been made into a series, and why it wasn't is a mystery.  See what you think and leave a comment afterwards.

HE'S A BIT OF A COUNT...

He never drinks...'vine'.  (Bet you knew that.)

ANOTHER BABE Of The DAY - MICHELLE KEEGAN...

At times like this any writer

worth their keyboard would rise to the

occasion and do full justice to the beauty

of MICHELLE KEEGAN.  A good writer

would wax lyrically and eloquently about her

stunning looks, captivating manner, sartorial

elegance, and feminine charm.  Yup, that's

what a good writer would do.  Me?  I'll

  settle for Phwoooaaaar!!

PSSST! WANNA WRITE A GUEST POST?

Nope, I dunno why he's wearing a deckchair either

For those of you who don't have a blog of your own, but would sometimes like to (or even if you do), here's an invitation for you.  Write a guest post for Crivens! and savour the sizzling sensation of seeing your words in print.  It'll bring you such fame that you won't be able to walk down the road without being besieged by hordes of screaming, admiring females trying to touch you and slipping you their 'phone numbers.  (That reminds me, I really must give some of them a call one day.)

Let me know if you're interested.

BEAR Of The DAY - YOGI BEAR...

YOGI BEAR is one cool dude.  In fact, he's

way cooler than the average bear.  I wanna be just

like him when I grow up.  Well, who wouldn't, eh?

(Oops, gotta go - here comes the nurse!)

BABE Of The DAY - ABI TITMUS...

"Lets play leapfrog" said ABI TITMUS -

"you go first!"  As she assumed the position, I

spied a hotdog stand across the road and nipped

over for a bite to scoff, leaving her standing like

that in the middle of the path.  She didn't half

get some funny looks, let me tell you.

ADAM WEST PASSES AWAY...

Alas, ADAM WEST, TV's BATMAN has passed away from leukaemia.  It's been a bad month for childhood heroes dying, but they'll live on in our hearts and memories.  Our condolences go to Mr. West's family, friends and fans - and, of course, to ROBIN.

BABE Of The DAY - ELKE SOMMER...

The trouble with having a woman

around the house is a fella just can't get

the bathroom to himself.  However, when

that woman is ELKE SOMMER, then I

suppose I could get used to it.  I'm sure

 prepared to try anyway, oh yes!

BOXING CLEVER - NEW FRANKENSTEIN MODEL KIT BASED ON 1960S PAINTING BY JAMES BAMA...

Here's the original box for AURORA's 1960s FRANKENSTEIN kit.  The art was later amended for a square box release, with the arms slightly raised and the elbows jutting out a bit more.  Artist JAMES BAMA referred to a photo of GLENN STRANGE as the monster for his painting, but, curiously, he added two big forehead clamps that were only ever seen in test makeup for BORIS KARLOFF, but not used in the 1931 UNIVERSAL movie.

Now some very clever fella (or company) has created a model kit of the box art, and as you can see below, it's very nice indeed.  I'd guess it'll cost a bit more than the price of a standard model kit these days, but it's a quality item that any collector will be proud to own.  I don't have a link, but if you check eBay, or do an internet search, you should be able to track one down before too long.

  

Below is a built and painted kit, which I believe is going to be used on the box lid.

Test makeup - without hooded eyelids

Square box reissue

Photo used by JAMES BAMA for reference

My own AURORA model.  Face based on BORIS
KARLOFF in The BRIDE Of FRANKENSTEIN

The WAY THINGS USED To BE...

Back around 1978, I bought a twirly straw in SAFEWAY.  I've had it ever since, and whenever I look at it, I can't help but think of how my home town used to be in the '70s.  It also brings to mind the contingent of pals I used to have, the comics I used to buy, the TV shows I used to watch, the books I used to read, and the music I used to listen to.  Not forgetting the movies I used to go and see.  It also reminds me of how young I used to be.  (I'd like to be able to say how handsome I used to be, but that'd be stretching the truth.)  Hey, that's a lot of 'used tos'.

All that from the above twirly straw.  That's pretty amazing, don't you think?  Have you got one single item that prompts so many memories?  Please share in the comments section.

BABE Of The DAY - ELKE SOMMER...

Here's ELKE SOMMER sweeping

BOB HOPE off his feet.  And here I thought

she only had eyes for me.  (Fickle bint!)

WHEN YOU GET TO A BIT THAT MAKES ANY SENSE, GIVE ME A SHOUT...

Why this illustration?  See footnote

Having lived in 7 houses over the first 28 years of my life, and 5 of them while I was still a kid, I've often felt I've had more than one childhood.  (Due to the fact I associate a separate section of my childhood with each domicile.)  This has prompted me to occasionally wonder if my childhood perhaps feels more varied and eventful than it otherwise would, had I lived in the same abode for all my early years.  I also wonder whether those who've only ever lived in one house as a kid had a different perception of time to mine.

However, with the death of ROGER MOORE, I'm now starting to get a sense of what it must be like to have stayed in the same place for any significant period.  That's because I was in my current house when Big Rog was a mere 45 years young and had just taken over the role of JAMES BOND - and now he's departed this mortal vale while I yet inhabit the same residence (for the 2nd time) as when I was a callow 13 year old youth.

Hell's bells, it's gone by in a flash!  Next Wednesday will be 45 years to the very day since my family first moved to this address, but it doesn't seem possible to have been quite that long.  And yet, when I think back to the comics and toys I had as a child, it feels as though I had them for lengthy periods of years and years - and all at the same time.  (Regular readers will be used to my meandering streams of thought by now, but if you're a 'newbie', bear with me as I ramble.)

As you'll know from your own experience though, many of the goodies we had as kids weren't concurrent with each other and never saw the interior of the same toybox or cupboard.  Some we may have owned only for weeks or months, others for a few years at most, but in memory, it feels like they all cohabited for equal duration.  Our TEDDY BEARS may never have made the acquaintance of our ACTION MEN, yet we seem to recall them as being contemporaries.

Many of the replacements I've acquired over the last 35 years or so of toys, comics, or books of my youth, I've now had for many more years than I ever possessed the originals.  One example is the first issue of the revamped SMASH! from 1969.  I had it for 4 days at the most before selling it on to classmate BILLY MONTGOMERY.  I'd intended to buy another copy before #2 hit the shops, but it was sold out, and over 15 and a half years had elapsed before I managed to replace it.  That was 33 years ago, but, incredibly, it doesn't feel like I've had the replacement for any longer than I had the original.

Which brings me on to this.  When I was a kid and got a new toy, there seemed no reason why I wouldn't have it forever.  Children sort of have the impression that they're immortal and that nothing is ever going to change.  Not that they believe so on a conscious level, but the opposite scenario is an absent concept that never really occurs to them.  Or, if it does, it seems like such a far-distant prospect that it's not one to be concerned about until many years in the future - a future that seems centuries away.  That disappears as we age, and there comes a time when we become only all too painfully aware of our limited time on this spinning sphere.

I'm now at the stage where, if I buy something I'll have for 20 or 30 years, my enjoyment is reduced by the knowledge that, even though that span dwarfs any length of time I owned many of my childhood items, it'll still seem like only a mere fraction compared to the illusory lengthy periods of yesteryear.  The fact I'm aware (unlike my teenage self) that the clock is counting down, casts a shadow over my pleasure in acquiring new or replacement objects, because the illusion of 'forever' is no longer part and parcel of the package.  (Reality can be difficult to deal with.)

Anyway, once more I've indulged in off-the-wall streams of thought which may seem only tenuously connected, but hopefully you can get something worth contemplating out of it all.  Let me know if you do, eh?  It might help me to  better convey what I'm trying to say.  I often feel like I start out on a definite path, but then wander off into the woods on the way and never quite get back on track and complete the journey.  Still, better to travel hopefully than to arrive, as some wise wag once said.  (Robert Louis Stevenson I think.)

******

Footnote: The DALEK record is an example of what I'm talking about.  I derive such enormous pleasure from simply owning this magnificent item, but it's a bitter-sweet experience because I'm all too aware that, even if I have it for the rest of my (hopefully long) life, it's still going to be all too-brief a time.  Do any of you relate to that at all?

A POWER HOUSE PIN-UP - The MIGHTY THOR...

Images copyright MARVEL COMICS

From the back cover of TERRIFIC #6 comes this JACK KIRBY pin-up of The MIGHTY THOR.  And that's all I really need to say, isn't it?  Unless, of course, you want me to witter on a bit more and - what's that?  You don't?  Oh, okay then.  (Mumble, mumble, sulk!)

  

I threw in the cover too.  (Not that you deserve it, you ungrateful lot!)

BABE Of The DAY - VICTORIA VETRI...

Here's valiant VICTORIA

VETRI displaying her gnashers to

you all.  Okay, they're actually a big

dinosaur's, but they belong to her

now, so why quibble?

45 YEARS AND COUNTING (DOWN?)...

There was a moment back in the 1970s when I believed it would last forever - and me along with it.  However, that moment eventually passed, and any illusions I had of immortality faded like the dying rays of the sun - as perish most of our hopes and dreams before life's fleeting journey has run its course.  I'm reminded of this every time I see yet another part of my past vanish from my life, suddenly and without warning.

On June 14th, which is a Wednesday, it will be 45 years since I first moved into the house in which I currently reside.  However, I've lived here for only 41 years, because 11 years after moving in, we flitted to another home in a different neighbourhood.  Just over 4 years later we returned - and I'll have been back here for precisely 30 years come August 1st.  (The official tenancy commencement date is Tuesday 4th, but we moved in 3 days early on the Saturday.)

Anyway, with the approaching anniversary of having first moved into this abode, I decided to take a trip along to my former neighbourhood, the one from which we moved in 1972.  On the way there, I noticed that 14 trees had been cut down, and when I arrived at my destination, I saw that another couple at the bottom of the street where I'd lived had also been removed.  To my mind, it was like discovering that 16 childhood friends had suddenly expired, and been disposed of before I'd had a chance to pay my respects.

I resent change.  Sometimes I feel as if I no longer live in the town I grew up in, but rather one that bears a bit of a resemblance to it.  It's almost like living in an alternate universe, wherein I spend my time wondering if I'll ever be able to figure out a way to return to my own.  I wish I were The MOLECULE MAN, because then I could revert everything back to how it all used to be.  Once more I'd be able to visit vanished buildings and places I knew as a youth, and feel as if I belonged again, instead of (just like MEL TORME) a stranger in my own home town.

There's a time in life when we feel 'in-sync' with the world, that it's there for us and dances to the same beat that we do.  Then, one day, we suddenly realise that we no longer recognise the tune and that it's best to 'sit this one out'.  It's then we know that 'our' moment has come and gone, and that we've now become spectators, as opposed to the participants we once were.  Other dancers have taken to the floor, and we can only observe and wonder what happened to the melody and lyrics.  For us the dance is over, and willingly or not, we must accept our relegation.

There was a time when I felt at home in this neighbourhood.  It was mine (or, at least, as much mine as anyone's), and I was one of its younger inhabitants, and an inheritor of what the future would bring.  Now, however, I'm one of the rapidly diminishing 'old guard', and a brash, new, fresh contingent of youngsters overrun the place, treating it as their own.  I often find myself feeling like an intruder who's invading their space (much as I feel like they're intruders invading mine), and I realise the gossamer nature of the sense of 'belonging' we humans feel in relation to our surroundings, and just how transient it can be.

Anyway, to be honest, I never really had a clear idea of where I was going with this when I started, and it's now become a bit meandering so I'll draw it to a close.  If it's prompted any thoughts or observations of your own, feel free to record them for posterity in our contemplative comments section.  We may get something worth reading out of this post yet, so don't be shy now.

BABE Of The DAY - MICHELLE KEEGAN...

You'll never know just how difficult it

was to squeeze myself into this bear suit, but

it was worth it to be kissed by the magnificent

MICHELLE KEEGAN.  Oh yeah!

CRIVENS' CRACKING COMIC COVERS: FANTASTIC #64...

Image copyright MARVEL COMICS

I may have the original MARVEL mag featuring this cover (too lazy to check), but as I first encountered this tale in FANTASTIC #64, that's the cover you're getting, Criv-ite chums.  May 1968, eh?  It only seems like a few weeks ago to me at the most.  Time flies when you're having fun.  (Or thrown the clock out the window.)

SECRET ORIGINS COVER & IMAGE GALLERY PART FIVE...

Copyright DC COMICS

Wow!  It's been a whole five months since the previous post in this series.  Just where does the time go?  Anyway, here we are with numbers 13 & 14 of SECRET ORIGINS from too many years ago, leaving 'only' 36 issues still to go.

To be honest, a lot of the art in these stories is somewhat bland, and it gives me a renewed appreciation for just what a talented visual storyteller JACK KIRBY was in his prime.  The artwork in this series of mags is always professional, but rarely rises above a competent level and is, for the most part, uninspired and nothing to shout about.

However, I've started so I'll finish - just so long as you Criv-ites want me to continue. Do you remember any of these comics from back in the day?  If so, then feel free to share any reminiscences about them in our ever-lovin' (but recently neglected) comments section.

HER MAJESTY'S SECRET DIAMONDS (OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT)...

The tapes were second-hand when I bought them in '81.
(Or 'pre-played' as they'd be described nowadays)

It was 1981 and I was living down in Southsea.  One day, me and a friend decided to take a leisurely stroll into Fratton, and while we were in a record store, I purchased two JAMES BOND 007 soundtrack cassettes - ON HER MAJESTY'S SECRET SERVICE and DIAMONDS ARE FOREVER.  Curiously, the tracks on the latter tape were not in the same order as listed on the index card, but I put it down to an error and learned to live with it.

11 and a half years later (which was a significant proportion of my life back then), in '93, HMV opened a record shop in my local shopping centre, and I bought two CDs, the same soundtracks mentioned in the previous paragraph.  Back home later that night, I covered the openings on the top of the DAF tape, and recorded the tracks in the correct listed order from the CD.  It's strange just what a sense of accomplishment I felt doing this, as if I were putting right some great injustice of many years standing.

It may have taken me nearly a third of my life to get to hear the tracks on that tape in the right running order, but it was worth it.  Although I didn't really need to play the tape because I had the CD, I made a point of doing so anyway, just so my effort wasn't wasted.  Still got those two tapes, and whenever I look at them, I'm back in that record shop in Fratton (JACK's, I think it was called) and I'm a young man in my early 20s again.

If only it could always be so.

CRIVENS' CRACKING COMIC (ANNUAL) COVERS: FIREBALL XL5...

Copyright relevant owner

Here's an absolute belter for you, Crivvies!  Mighty MIKE NOBLE's fantastic cover to the final FIREBALL XL5 Annual of the 1960s.  As Mike was considered the XL5 artist from his strips in TV CENTURY 21, it was only fitting that the series of four books bowed out with his drawing adorning the cover.  It'd make a great pin-up.  Clickety-click.

BABE Of The DAY - BECKY RULE...

There's only one rule you

have to observe when the beautiful

BECKY RULE is about - and that's

 to be grateful for her presence.

NO PRICKLY ISSUE For BLONDIE And BEST PAL SMITH...

Saw this in yesterday's DAILY EXPRESS, thought you might enjoy seeing it too. (I'm so considerate.)  Click to enlarge, then click again for optimum size.

******

This adorable image shows an ultra-rare blond hedgehog rescued by an animal hospital.

Blond, or leucistic hedgehogs, have a partial loss of pigmentation which results in pale colouration of everything other than the eyes.

This particularly cute example, aptly named Blondie, was brought into Tiggywinkles Wildlife Hospital in Aylesbury, Buckinghamshire, late last year after wandering around during the daytime suffering from malnutrition.

Blondie had been born in August and should have weighed 600g but was only a quarter of the size at 165g.

The tiny mammal was rehydrated and given antibiotics by the centre's nurses.

Soon after arriving at Tiggywinkles, Blondie befriended a hog named Smith and has gone from strength to strength and is now fighting fit.

Despite the clean bill of health, Blondie has a weak immune system and will never be released into the wild.  The unusual colour would also be an invitation to predators.

Sharon Jacobs, a nurse at Tiggywinkles, said:  "Blondie was very underweight when we got him and not at all in a good state.

"Had he been in the wild for much longer there's no way he would have survived.

"Soon after arriving here he made a friend and things started to really look up - his health rapidly improved.

"We separated Blondie and Smith when they reached 400g, as you're supposed to do, but Blondie didn't like that one bit so we put them back together."

By John Ingham.