Wednesday, 27 December 2017

EXPEDITION To URANITURE - TAKE TWO... (Updated)

Copyright relevant owner

When COUNTDOWN comic came out in 1971, I gave the first issue a cursory browse-through on top of my local newsagent's counter, but wasn't particularly impressed by it.  Consequently, I didn't start buying it until later, when it began reprinting some FIREBALL XL5, STINGRAY, and CAPTAIN SCARLET strips from TV CENTURY 21.  (I think they reprinted some THUNDERBIRDS ones too, but that may have been later - can't quite recall offhand.)  Only six or so years had elapsed since I'd first read the Fireball and Stingray strips, but that was half my life away at that point and therefore seemed a much longer period of time.

There was one Fireball adventure I particularly loved, which takes place on URANITURE, a planet seemingly populated by living snowmen. Countdown reprinted the colour pages in black and white, two pages to one (like the MARVEL UK 'landscape' titles), but that didn't overly bother me as it was great to see MIKE NOBLE's dynamic, action-packed art again in any form.  I decided to extract these pages and assemble them in their own mini-comic, but I made a bit of a hash of it and, embarrassed by my less-than-perfect attempt, eventually discarded my homemade efforts to the dustbin of history.

However, over the years, it always bothered me that I hadn't succeeded in my goal, and though I again possess the original TV21 presentations, as well as various colour and b&w reprints of this particular tale and don't really need any more, I decided to have another crack at it.  I own quite a few issues of Countdown, but not the numbers containing this particular adventure.  I do have access to them though, so I printed them out and assembled them under a cardboard cover, and - viola - I've finally completed the task I set myself 46 plus years back. It does my heart proud to finally finish something begun so long ago.  Why, I'm almost overcome with emulsion.

Have you any similar tales to tell, frantic ones?  If so, let loose in the comments section.  And if you'd like to read this Fireball tale, click here for part one.



(Update:)  If I may be permitted a little self-indulgence, this adventure, as I said, first appeared in colour in TV Century 21 (#34, September - #39, October, back in 1965), and whenever I look at the colour version, I associate the strip with the house I lived in at the time, plus the route leading to the newsagent's around the corner from me, and the shop itself, from where I usually bought the comic.

Jump forward six years to October 1971 and Countdown #38, when the first episode of the strip was reprinted (ending in #43, December), and the black and white version has different associations for me.  I was living in a different house in another neighbourhood by this time, and purchasing my comics from another newsagent's, so obviously they're what spring to mind when I look at Countdown's monochrome mini-pages.  Remarkably though, the manager of the first shop (Chamber's) was now in charge of the second shop (R.S. McColl's), so I also associate both incarnations of the tale with him, a gentleman by the name of Mr. Smith.

I'm also astonished to realise that a mere six months after the story ended in Countdown, I was living in yet another house in yet another area, because it seems that I held on to my homemade 'collected edition' in the previous house for far longer than that. Isn't it strange that the same strip can have two separate associations with two different times and places, simply because of the different way in which they were presented?

Tuesday, 26 December 2017

BABE Of The DAY - VICTORIA VETRI...



Said I was dreaming of a white
Christmas - and I got one.  It snowed
yesterday in my neck of the woods and
a blanket of white currently bedecks the
ground outside my window.  So to warm
myself (and others) up, here's a nice pic
of the stunning VICTORIA VETRI
- she certainly is hot stuff.

The WORLD'S GOING MAD - Is THERE A DOCTOR In The HOUSE?

Image copyright BBC

Societal changes never happen of their own accord.  You may not agree with anything else I write from this point on, but that's a simple, unalterable fact.  You can be assured that there is always some group, large or small, that is driving things forward in an attempt to effect any kind of change in society that you care to mention.  Whether it be women's rights, working conditions, the abolition of slavery, the smoking ban, any proposed reduction in the age of consent, the age at which one can purchase alcohol, allowing 16 year-olds the vote, the introduction of Universal Credit - or Brexit - none of these things happened (or will happen) by accident without a motivating force, an agenda, behind them.  Every single change in society's mores and morals, whether good, bad, or indifferent (and which is which depends on your point of view) did not come about by coincidence or random happenstance.

Which brings me to the DOCTOR WHO Christmas Special.

The Doctor is now a woman.  Sure, falling viewing figures meant that something drastic had to be done, and the more controversial the better as far as generating interest and raising the show's public profile goes, but there's a reason beyond that which explains the timing of this alteration to over 50 years of continuity.  We now live in an age of gender politics, where gender distinction is in the process of being eroded by those who are determined to force their beliefs on the rest of us. There is seldom only one reason for anything, so not everyone who welcomes this change (or is prepared to tolerate it) dances to the same tune on the matter, but there are definitely those who view any perceived social injustice inflicted upon women (or any suggestion of social advantage conferred upon men) as being the result of gender distinction, and that without it the world would be a much fairer place.

That's why some shops have introduced gender-free changing rooms and no longer describe the clothes (or toys) they sell for children as being for boys or girls; why some schools introduced gender-free toilets (then were forced to change back again under parental objection), and why it's now being mooted that anyone should be free to identify with whatever gender they choose without any form of medical or psychological assessment.  The number of adults affected by such gender-confusion is small, and the number of children even smaller, but the majority of ordinary people are expected to accommodate the minority by having their wants, needs, and preferences quashed underfoot.  If there is one single child in school who identifies with the opposite gender, then, in the minds of some, every other pupil must forego the provision of toilets set aside for their own sex and suddenly share mixed facilities.  We're not talking about one single, separate cubicle being unisex, but 'public' toilets being open to both boys and girls to use at the same time.

The fact that it's in an atmosphere such as this that the new show-runner of Doctor Who has decided to make the Doctor a woman is no coincidence, but is part and parcel of an agenda to influence the public's perception on the matter of gender.  (Yes, and hopefully push up the ratings at the same time - the two aren't mutually-exclusive.)  But wait a minute, you say.  The Doctor is an alien who can regenerate into a much younger or older being, so why shouldn't he be able to regenerate into a woman?  (To which I'd reply why should he be?)  The 'regeneration' idea was merely a device to allow for a change of actor in the lead role.  It was later suggested that there could be fluidity between genders, but this was most likely initially to stir the pot and keep viewers on their toes, before it was seized upon by certain individuals in pursuit of their own agenda to influence public perception on the topic of gender.

You think that's far-fetched?  Then I'd suggest you haven't been paying attention to what's been happening around you in all forms of the media.  TORCHWOOD, under the pretence of 'reflecting' society's alleged changing attitude to homosexuality, was in reality trying to influence that attitude.  Whether you see that as a good thing or a bad thing will depend on your point of view, but a discussion on 'morality' is not what I'm interested in at the moment.  It's evidence that CHRIS CHIBNALL had something else in mind other than just entertaining SF fans, and now that he's in charge of Dr. Who, he's going down a related path.  I'm not necessarily suggesting that it's his overriding motivation for such a change (that'll probably be the ratings) - perhaps he has a more casual and less compulsive attitude for introducing a female Doctor, but the timing in today's gender-charged atmosphere is unlikely to be coincidental - at the very least, it's riding the coattails of a trend.  And maybe that's why so many TV shows and movies hitch their wagon to such a controversial issue - because it's 'trendy' to do so.  However, reflecting any kind of a trend usually results in spreading its influence to a wider audience.

Remember, this change comes at a time when some people have seriously suggested that JAMES BOND not only could be, but should be played by a woman.  I'm not making this up; so consumed are they in their desire to obliterate any form of gender distinction, that they think a woman has as much right to play 007 as any male actor.  Am I alone in considering their obsessive adoption of such an idea akin to some form of madness?  Oddly (though perhaps not), I've yet to hear anyone suggest that MODESTY BLAISE (were she ever to receive her own movie franchise) should be played by a man.

So just think - if you're one of the millions of pupils who'd feel uncomfortable or embarrassed by the opposite gender being able to listen to your farts and splashes in a unisex, multi-cubicled school toilet, or a customer who'd prefer to avail yourself of the changing rooms in a shop without members of the opposite sex hearing you unzip, unbutton, and undress as you try on some new apparel, your insecurities, inhibitions, and preferences don't matter a damn!  All that counts is catering to the requirements of a few gender-confused individuals, whose feelings and sensitivities must be considered over and above those of the rest of us - we who constitute the majority.

What must be remembered is that Time Lords are supposed to be the most advanced civilisation in the universe, who are beyond the petty obsession with gender that humans have (according to the Doctor in one episode).  Could it be any clearer?   Any human concerns over gender are backward and primitive, and the obsession of tiny minds.  We're being sold a bill of goods here, to the effect that unless we share the Time Lords' 'superior' attitude in this regard, then we're intellectually-stunted savages whose opinions on the subject are invalid and unworthy. The show is actually trying to embarrass us into jettisoning our perfectly natural views on the matter of gender.  Are you seriously denying that there's no agenda?  Wake up and smell the coffee, for feck's sake.
    
Disagree all you want, and I'm sure that many of you will.  You may even consider the matter insignificant and nothing to get annoyed about, but I'd suggest that the Doctor changing gender at this particular time is yet another symptom of the madness and chaos which currently threatens to consume us all.

Or... maybe it's simply an attempt to breathe new life into a tired old show?  What do you think? As usual, the comments section awaits.

Monday, 25 December 2017

WHITE CHRISTMAS - JIM REEVES...



Well, the day isn't quite over yet, so theoretically, it might still snow - somewhere.  JIM REEVES is certainly dreaming it will - and so am I.  How about you?

Sunday, 24 December 2017

IT'S CHRISTMAS EVE - SO LET'S HAVE A BARNEY...



A very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all Criv-ites.

KLASSIC KIRBY KOMIC KOVERS...


Image copyright MARVEL COMICS

Originally the splash page of FANTASTIC FOUR #51 (which I have), this great JACK KIRBY image of The THING now graces the cover of this new MARVEL 2 IN ONE first issue.  Superb stuff!  Unfortunately, there were a few fingerprints (none of them mine) on the cover which have lifted the colour, but I've digitally disguised them as much as I can.  Still a great pic though, eh?   

(BOND) BABE Of The DAY - ELKE SOMMER...



"That's AZDA price - ching, ching!"

DAN DARE IN "OPERATION PLUM PUDDING"...


Images copyright relevant owner

Originally published in the EAGLE Annual for 1955, this Christmas DAN DARE tale should give you a taste of just what Festive fare was served up to Eagle readers at Yuletide time back when your grandfather was a kid - unless, of course, you're old enough to have read it yourself back then.  To be honest, I think Dan belongs in the fifties - there was something about the tales that suited then-recent post-war Britain, and none of the attempts at updating him have ever achieved his original popularity, either proving uninteresting to contemporary kids, or not the 'real' Dan Dare to older readers.  Anyway, enjoy it for what it is, and a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all Criv-ites.

I may still be posting over the holiday period, but no promises - too many mince pies and fizzy pop beckon, so we'll see how I feel. 







DAN DARE FROM THE 1951 2ND CHRISTMAS EAGLE...

Images copyright relevant owner

Well, I did say that there'd be more Christmas images soon, Criv-ite chums, so - having shown the first Christmas EAGLE several days back, I thought it would be nice to show the second Festive edition from 1951 - and here it is.  The cover just reeks of Yuletide atmosphere, doesn't it?  As revealed here on a previous post, Eagle's DAN DARE was not the first hero of that name to grace a comic - no, that honour belonged to a private detective in WHIZ COMICS #2 (which introduced the original CAPTAIN MARVEL) in 1939/'40.  However, he's long-forgotten, while our Daniel continues to be fondly remembered to this present day.

Like I said last time, more Christmas images soon - keep an eye out for them.

PART TWO OF SMASH! #152 - COMPLETE CHRISTMAS ISSUE FOR 1968...


Images copyright relevant owner

Let's start with a bit of colour by placing the back cover first - in this case SAMMY SHRINK, who TERRY BAVE was now drawing in his own style rather than that of original artist DAVE JENNER.  Y'see, when Terry had first taken over Sammy, he'd drawn it in an almost indistinguishable style from Dave's, but was eventually allowed to introduce his own.  It's a shame that REBELLION don't have the copyright to these strips (update: they have now), as a collected edition of BAD PENNY would be a 'must have' on my list - and I already have most of them.  Right, you now have the complete Christmas issue of SMASH! #152 - if you've enjoyed seeing it again half as much as I have, then I'll have enjoyed seeing it again twice as much as you.  (There's no arguing with that, is there?!)

More Christmas images soon, comic chums.  







THOR copyright MARVEL COMICS









Saturday, 23 December 2017

BABE Of The DAY - BECKY RULE...



The alluring BECKY RULE likes
her new underarm deodorant so much,
she's invited me to sniff her oxters - and
even shaved them first.  Considerate to
 a fault, is Becky.  Wotta woman!

PART TWO OF POW! #50 - CHRISTMAS ISSUE FOR 1967...

Images copyright relevant owner

Let's put the last up first - the last page of POW! #50 that is.  The amazing KEN REID strikes again - and in colour too.  Wotta way to start, eh?  With this post you now have the complete Christmas issue to peruse at your leisure and pleasure, giving you a good idea, if you weren't around at the time, of what the POWER PACK comics were like back in the '60s.  And if you were around back then, re-stoke the embers of memories from childhood - great, eh?  Hope you've been enjoying this 50 year flashback to the past - if so, let me know in the comments section, pilgrims.  






THOR copyright MARVEL COMICS

NICK FURY copyright MARVEL COMICS



THOR, X-MEN, and IRON MAN copyright MARVEL COMICS


Friday, 22 December 2017

RUMINATING REPOST: THROUGH A GLASS, DARKLY...

Me on my family estate (he lied, shamelessly) around 1988 or '89

As we grow up and pass through the various, inevitable 'chapters' of our lives - like infancy, childhood, teenage years, young adulthood, etc., - we do so unselfcon-sciously, without realizing at the time that we're exiting one stage and entering another.  It's only when we look back, many years later, that we come to recognize that certain phases of our lives (depending on individual circumstances, naturally) each fall into their own separate and distinct 'compartments'.  (Or, at least, that's how it seems in retrospect.)

That's probably a bit vague and ambiguous, so let me attempt to clarify what I'm trying to convey.  One of my fondest childhood memories is sneaking downstairs with my brother in the wee, small hours of a Christmas morning to unwrap our presents, as our parents snored away in blissful ignorance of what we were up to. Another is going out on Hallowe'en and chapping neighbourhood doors in the company of three or four others, and reciting a verse or three in exchange for monkey nuts, some apples and oranges.

Sliding down slippery slopes on sledges my father had built was another boyhood joy, with the spray from the snow splattering my face with its exhilarating tingle as I raced recklessly downhill with seemingly suicidal intent.  I christened my sledge 'Fireball XL5' and still had it right up 'til my early twenties, when it mysteriously disappeared ere I had a chance to protest.  My father probably used the wood for something, or it was thrown away in the early '80s when I wasn't looking.

A very poor, out-of-focus photo of me from around 1977/'78.  That's
my sledge leaning against our dog Tara's kennel on my left

It occurs to me that one of the worst cruelties parents can inflict on their children is to decide, in their absence and without consultation, to dispose of their childhood treasures on the grounds that they're 'too old' for them and don't need them anymore.  (Many a lifelong obsession has resulted from such thoughtless parental behaviour, I'm sure.)

If you're an adult who yet lives in your childhood home, perhaps happy halcyon days don't seem so very far away, and, if so, you're in an extremely enviable position.  I first moved into my present address aged around 13-and-a-half when the immediate past seemed far closer than it does now.  However, these days, I often find it a source of great disappointment that fondly-recalled moments associated with child-hood belong to previous houses rather than my current abode.

It never seemed to matter much before, but as I get older, my past appears even further removed from me, and it galls me that I never got to sneak downstairs at Christmas in this house, or went sledging down the hill in the nearby park in winter, or guising 'round the neighbours' houses at Hallowe'en.  These things all happened elsewhere.

The house with the dark front door is the one I lived in when
my sledge was built.  Photo taken around 2009 or 2010

Last year, at Christmas, I revisited the area I used to live in from about one-and-a-half years old until I was six, going on seven.  It's only about 25 minutes away on foot, which might not sound like any kind of a journey, but the 'reality' of travelling 46 years into the past is an immense distance in anyone's book.  It was between seven or eight o'clock at night and some local teenagers (about 17 years old, I'd guess) were sledging down the very hill that I had done all those years before. I was with a friend, so not having to worry about being mistaken for some lone, sinister stranger, I hailed them and asked if I could have a shot on one of their sleds.

I explained my connection to the area and they were entirely agreeable, no doubt hoping to witness this old duffer come a cropper on the slopes.  It was one of those modern plastic sleds, red in colour (my favourite), so the blood wouldn't show if I happened to injure myself.  What an experience!  It was great to relive a moment in the same place as nearly 50 years previously, and I'm glad I did so before the local council decide to sell the land for houses or whatever.

But I digress.  As my very existence ticks faster and faster away, what once seemed like one cohesive 'whole' now seems fragmented and scattered to the far corners.  I refer to the various aspects that make up my life of course.  Sometimes, I look at my comics and toys from childhood and am suddenly beset by a feeling that they belong elsewhere, and seem curiously out of place.  One item recalls one house to memory, another summons forth recollections of a different one.  Mostly, such mementos afford me a great deal of comfort and pleasure, but, occasionally, can also cast a pall of sorrow over my ruminations.

A similar occasion to the one described, but in a different place around
20-odd years earlier, in 1989 or '90.  (Same colour of sled though)

As I've no doubt ruefully reflected before in my melancholy musings, it sometimes seems like the 'spirit of youth', which once beat so strongly within me, slipped off somewhere to die when I wasn't looking, leaving me tired and empty, a mere husk of my former self.  All that remains is a dim and distant echo that yet reverberates in the vast caverns of memory, but even echoes eventually die.  The ghost of my childhood now resides in former homes, having fled this current one.  It deigns to visit me on occasion however, so I must be thankful for small mercies.

Usually, surrounding oneself with familiar objects from the past helps perpetuate the notion that it's not so very far away after all;  that, in fact, there is no past, present or future - only one big 'now'.  However, the mind is a fickle mistress, and sometimes delights in torturing us with a 'reality' far different to the one we'd prefer.  On that mournful note, I'd be interested in reading the opinions and perceptions of my fellow Criv-ites.  Is the past, to you, not only a foreign country, but also a forgotten one?  Or, like me, do you constantly endeavour to keep it in view, reluctant, like MOLE in Kenneth Grahame's The WIND In The WILLOWS, to completely abandon the old life for the new?

Well, I'm not sure whether any of the above screed is as clear as I'd have liked, but, if you can understand what I was trying to say, feel free to analyze, soliloquize, theorize, rationalize - or even agonize - about it in the comments section.

My faithful dog, Zara, three-quarters of the way down the actual hill
I sledged on as a child - and once as an adult.  Taken around 1996

Click on photos to enlarge.  In the case of photo #3, clicking again will  enlarge even further.  (In case you want to look through the windows.)