How I learned to stop worrying and love the 9-Panel Grid:


Although I had been exposed to it at a young age, I never bought the Legion of Super Heroes on a regular basis until the first issue of the 1989 series, the "Five Years Later" era. Previously, I had read random, older issues; or the digest reprints of the Adventure Comics era; or occasional issues depending on the character featured. Legion had never struck me as a book I absolutely had to read every month, before or since. Why did this one strike home with me?

It wasn't the art, at least, not at first. Giffen uses the nine-panel grid page almost exclusively, and some of his only exceptions were title pages to signify a new chapter in the series, like "Five Years Later" or "The Terra Mosiac." Early in the series, there are a couple issues that don't use the 9-panel throughout, usually to signify a flashback (issue #8) or a tonal shift (#11, one of the first Tenzil Kem/Matter Eater Lad issues, the comedy issues between tragedies). I've wanted to scan some art from this series for a while, but out of context, it's hard to get at what's going on.

And there was a ton going on. Set five years after the last issue of the previous Legion series, Earth has left the United Planets, the Legion has disbanded, and several of it's members have been through a lot since then.

Now, of course this was well before the Internet and spoilers and everything else, but there's just a heavy feeling of menace from this series. The future used to be shiny and bright and awesome, and while it wasn't a post-apocalyptic ruin, it was in pretty bad shape now. It's different reading these issues today, since at the time they had...pressure. What happened to these characters? What was going to happen? You didn't know. You had to piece a little bit together each month, and while it was occasionally frustrating, Giffen's Legion was a book that rewarded repeat reading.
Not to say there weren't problems: there's a Mordru magic reboot and some heavy continuity surgery in the first few issues, and several plot points that hinge on Adventure Comics stories I've still never seen. There are numerous points that are either red herrings, or not returned to for years, which is the downside to having a cast of bazillions.


And there were some heartbreakers in there early: longtime fan favorite Phantom Girl, killed off-panel in the missing five years. (You can argue whether or not it was a refridgerator-stuffing, as her death changes Ultra Boy/Jo Nah quite a bit.) Hedonistic ladykiller Sun Boy, now a sellout traitor. Cosmic Boy, a founder and Legion mainstay, now powerless. Timber Wolf, mutated into the mute beast Furball. Mon-El's most heroic moment...right before he gets all the Superboy references taken out and reworked into Lar Gand, a name that sounds like it was pulled out of a hat.


But the upside is, Legion of Super Heroes once again became a book with drama and super-heroics and adventure and science fiction and romance and horror and comedy. It was a big book, containing if not multitudes, a hell of a lot. Even though I've lost and repurchased some of them more than once, I still pull the Five Years Later issues out every so often for an afternoon's read. Giffen wasn't there for the whole thing, but until the next reboot (the "threeboot," I think) it ran about sixty regular issues, or five years. Fitting.

I'm at best a dilettante on Legion matters: there is a ton of great blogging about the Legion, and DC could do a lot worse than listening to them. This post has been in the draft pile for a while, since when I loaded it, I was hoping it would pop up as a nine-panel grid page. Oh, well. Read more!

The medium of action figures can be a harsh mistress...

Like everyone else, I wanted to be a comic book artist as a kid. However, I quickly realized my anatomy was, at best, sub-Liefeldian...which probably still could've got me a job in the 90's, but even so, I had to let that dream go. Still, that is very much why I love making the toy comics, as between the software and the toys, it's not too difficult to get a recognizable, and hopefully readable, end result.

That said, even putting aside my lack of Photoshop, etc; there are limits to what you can do with action figures instead of a pencil: even if I suddenly had a brilliant idea for, say, Optimus Prime and the Autobots fighting an army of Daleks in space, there is no friggin' way I could pull it off. Especially since I don't have any Daleks...and now you now why all my strips are dialog-based snark. (Pete over at Fanwank will sometimes drop effects that make me bite my fist in envy, yet claims they 're relatively easy. Maybe.)

So, every once in a while I'll have an idea that might not be bad, but is definitely impractical for the format. Or, at least, for my format: someone might be able to pull my halfbaked ideas off, but that would be more of a Lucasfilm-level production, like Toyfare's animated strips; whereas I'm at the Dark Shadows level. (Forget knocking the toys over, you have no idea how often I knock the sets over.)

Sometimes, an idea will be stalled because I don't have a figure for a character, or worse, because I have a figure that isn't poseable enough for what I want to do. The Total Justice toys I used in my first strip are basically only movable enough to wave their arms around, but it bugs me more that I didn't have a Superman figure in that scale. Worse, even with multiple Supermen from DC Direct, the Superman animated series, JLA, the new DC Universe one from Mattel; I don't think I have a single Supes toy without clenched fists. Maybe I just can't find one when I need it. Maybe DC doesn't want Superman to be seen handling...anything, I guess.

The point of all this buildup is all for a script for a short, aborted strip. I didn't even have a Doc Samson figure at this point, but while I still like the joke, it was beyond my means to produce. But, since I still can't upload anything, why the hell not? I rewrote it with enough description that maybe you can see what I was going for, and if anyone has ambition and a ton of Mego or Famous Covers figures, perhaps you could prove it can be done and show me up as a quitter. Enjoy!


(Peter, in full Spider-Man costume, is lying on the psychiatrist's couch, hands folded on his chest. Doc Samson is in the background, sitting with his legs slightly crossed and taking notes. Samson is dressed conservatively, probably a sweater, which would be comforting if he wasn't a hugely muscled man with a horrible looking green ponytail.)
PETER: I had that dream again.
SAMSON: (sighs, drops pencil on pad.) Which one, Peter?

(flashback, go to a slightly old school Ditko or Frenz look. Shot of Peter from the inside of his school locker. Flash Thompson, Liz, and other high school students can be seen in the background pointing and laughing. Peter has glasses, a shocked, embarrassed look, and is buck naked. Obviously, shadows or a locker door or something is blocking Peter's junk.)
PETER: The one where I have a big test that I didn't study for, and I'm completely unprepared, and I forgot my clothes.

(Samson is clearly trying to look sympathetic, but is having a hard time with it.)
SAMSON: Hmm. I can understand the underlying anxiety, but I thought you were a very good student. What test would you be unprepared for?
PETER: I dunno. Wood shop? Or home ec. Left alone, I eat a lot of things that start with "cup of." Aunt M--I mean, my "mom," is right to worry about me not eating.

(Still Flashback: Spider-man, still naked except for his mask and web-shooters, leaping at a very skeeved-out looking Doc Ock. One of Ock's tentacles should be blocking Spidey's naughty bits, and at least one should have a protective position, like it doesn't want to see that either.)
PETER: Anyway, then Doc Ock shows up and starts tearing up the place, and I have to go stop him...
SAMSON: Still...
PETER: Yeah. Don't ask where I was keeping my mask and webshooters. I don't wanna know.

(Samson, closing his notebook and standing up.)
SAMSON: Well, I think that's enough for today. I'll see you next week.

(Peter, shaking Samson's hand with a skeptical expression.)
PETER: Yeah. Hey, isn't this usually where you say, "We've made a lot of progress today?"
SAMSON: Ha-ha. Yes, usually. Read more!

I don't like the set-up...

...but you can't argue with the delivery.

What the hell is this from? Still dredging posts out of draft mode (10-11-06!), but I think this is from one of those Justice League of America 100-page giants, that were like 80% reprints. The reprints weren't terrible, but they weren't great either. This is probably from a Black Canary/Starman story, that would get an interesting callback years later in James Robinson's Starman.

Over the weekend, I watched football while the Youngest watched Robots and the Oldest ran around the neighborhood, and I took about 400 pictures for the next several toy comics. I don't intentionally set out to do the Nightcrawler & Deadpool show, but this strip's run away from me, so I hope to start posting it soon. Hopefully...

Oh, hell: I was going to mention that I was tradewaiting for the new Deadpool series, but I have read a lot of it online, and the second issue seems stronger than the first. We'll see if I hold out! Read more!

"Ah! Zombies! And swears. I guess it's up to you which you're more afraid of..."



(Yesterday, Poe Ghostal's Points of Articulation became Points of Mutilation, as he ramps things up heading into Halloween, and he started things off with a zombie attack post. He's been in on that before too, since Poe inspired this one: I started it at least a year ago. But since I'm stuck offline at home anyway, why not? Oh, and while I don't usually around here, this one has curse words, bloody violence, and unfortunate product placement. Enjoy!)

To begin, I want to say I'm safe enough for the time being. Oh, I'm completely fucked, yeah, but not yet. I just have to get this down in the hopes that someone is able to use this information either to save themselves, or maybe even wipe out these zombie fucks.

I saw my first one yesterday at lunch. On my lunch break I had biked over to Burger King, and was getting a kid's meal because I wanted the Silver Surfer toy. Even after everything that's happened, I still have the toy in the bottom of my backpack. Yeah, I don't have anything useful like a shotgun or a chainsaw, but I've got the Surfer. That probably says a lot about me.

He looked like a homeless guy at first. Hell, he probably was a homeless guy. He lurched towards the restaurant, planting his face into the glass. A couple kids laughed, and I thought it was funny for a second, until he moved and the hole in his chest slid across the window, leaving a smear of dirt and muddy red. It wasn't a straight hole through him, but diagonally somehow, so you wouldn't see through him if he was coming right towards you.

He had seemingly appeared from nowhere in the south side of the parking lot, and started around the building, ramming and rubbing on the glass. Pretty obvious he wasn't a homeless guy then. Lots of zombie movies have that first zombie just seem like someone lost or insane or sick. In retrospect, I'm probably lucky my first was a capital-Z zombie, a Lurcher. When he started heading for the drive-in window, some of the other customers and I yelled at the employees, but we didn't have to bother: the SUV leaving the window had pulled forward, and the zombie had gone right for the window of the moving vehicle. The driver, presumably scared to fuck, floored it forward, flying into the street and traffic with the zombie still trying to get through the window.

If you're reading this, you probably had this feeling too: that instant of revelation, like the alcoholics' moment of clarity; when you realized zombies were out there, and everything was going to go to shit in short order. There was a pay phone in the Burger King, and I grabbed my backpack, got over there, and called my wife. I...don't want to go into what I told her. It's personal, but I had her grab the kids, get what food and gas that she could, and get out of town. My folks have a cabin quite a ways away, but it's isolated, safe, and there's food and guns there. I told her to head for it, not to wait for me, and I'd be right behind them; which is probably the biggest lie I've ever told her. I was on my friggin' bicycle: if more zombies were already out there, the odds of me making it back to my house on it were mighty slim.

When the sirens started, one of the kids stuck his head outside, like he was completely expecting to get it bitten off. When he didn't, he took off, and his friends followed. I had to say goodbye, and I too ran. To my bike. You can undo a bike lock every day of your life in less time than it takes to type the sentence, but when zombies enter the picture it seems to take years.

The sirens were louder than I would've expected, and I was kind of hoping to be able to hear a little more clearly. You don't expect anything to sneak up on you on a clear, sunny day; but I wasn't ruling anything out there. I got my helmet on as I saw another zombie, lurching out of the Home Depot parking lot. He looked like someone had tried to kill him with a circular saw, but all it had done was make a straight red line from his face to his knee and tear up his clothes. It didn't look like his brain had been injured, which is probably why he was still ticking. I got on my bike and pedaled like hell, but luckily I knew exactly where I was going: the Smart Sports big-box store, about two blocks away.

Let me explain my reasoning, here, since later this won't seem like it was a good idea. At all.

I used to work at a music store in a mall. It was a boring, pointless job, since CD's were overpriced to begin with there, and this was during the early, glory days of Napster and file sharing and music thievery. So, my coworkers and I would talk about movies, and being trapped in a mall anyway, Dawn of the Dead came up a lot. (This started before the remake, although we talked about that one too later.)

"What kind of mall has that much food, and guns?" was often a discussion starter. "A magic, 1970's one," was the closest I ever got to an answer. Then we'd try to figure out what we would do if trapped in our mall.

"Sears," I would say, "is the only really useful place in this whole deathtrap. Tools, camping stuff, maybe propane, gardening stuff..."

"To grow food?" asked my friend.

"Probably, but I was thinking lime. You can't stay in the mall forever, so you're going to have to kill the zombies, even if you have to poke them in the heads with a long, pointy stick. Figure you'd need the lime to dump on the bodies and decompose them so they don't make a pile up to you."

Long pause.

"If zombies ever attack, I'm coming to get you, man."

One agreed upon point was the mall wasn't the best choice for riding out zombie attack anymore. A good sporting goods store, one with guns and camping equipment and food, would be ideal. Not only was it a tip of the hat to Army of Darkness, but we figured even if 95% of the population of the city turned into zombies, you could eventually whittle that number down.

"Get a .22 rifle to start, just to get used to shooting, get your aim. Nothing fancy yet. And just start shooting zombies in the head. Start in the morning, take breaks, punch out in the evening. Shooting zombies would be your full-time job." We also guessed there would be enough bullets in a sporting goods store to do the job, even if it took...we had no idea how long it would take, but someone suggested if you made a game of it: see how many zombies you can kill an hour, then try to beat your score.

So, when the zombies started, I had a rough plan in mind from the start, the same way you might have a general fire escape plan. The plan's a little different if you have to escape from a highrise rather than from your house, but the basic ideas the same. I wasn't going to be able to get to my family and get out of down, so I had to get to a sporting goods store.

There were a couple, better located and equipped stores downtown; but it was pretty obvious from the start that that going for them would be a bad idea even if I'd been in a car.

Smart Sports, however, was close enough that I could bike there. I hadn't been there in years, but it should have everything I was going to need, and in my master plan if I hurried I could get there before they locked the place up or the place filled with zombies. Plus, I had actually worked in that building when it used to be a Future Shop, so unless there had been some major changes, I knew the basic layout.

Note how all of this seemed a perfectly reasonable plan, when I was slacking off at a cash register watching preteens try to shoplift. Maybe it would've worked a little better if I had gotten to another store, maybe not. In actual practice, though, I had three lucky breaks, and an assload of bad ones.


As you doubtless know, the zombies spread pretty quickly. Most of the first ones I saw were slow. Lurchers. The real danger was other people, because panic was most people's first reaction. And their second. Maybe even their twelfth. Cars were flying through the intersections, one smashed into a coffee stand, and another hit another car into the pole holding up the stoplights, but I didn't have time to gawk. I only had to get across one busy street and a good chunk of parking lot.

The Old People's Buffet a couple of doors down from Smart looked full of zombies already. I was on the far end of the parking lot, but I saw two busboys light out of the back. I was about to yell at them to follow me--I was going need all the hands I could--but then the one behind lunged and caught the leader, and bit him in the back of the neck. That was pretty damn fast for a zombie! I wasn't expecting any running ones, especially since most people around here didn't run that great when they were alive. I noticed he seemed noisier, and bloodier than the other one I'd seen, but didn't have time to think about it.

The windows to Smart weren't as visible as I would've liked: there was a ton of ads and displays blocking my view of the inside. Still, I could hear more hell breaking loose behind me, so I didn't think there was a lot of choice at this point. I put my bike on the rack, and it took real effort not to lock it. I had that bike for over four years, and it had more than done a good job for me. I know it's stupid to be sentimental about a fucking bike with everything that's happened, but it was my bike and I loved it, OK? All right, I'm getting all moody about it now, when at the time I tore inside like my ass was on fire.

The store's lights were on, but it seemed dim inside, probably compared to high noon outside. I spun around looking for zombies, but didn't see any, which just made me look more frantically. "Hey!" I yelled. "Anyone alive here? Does anyone have keys to this door?"

"Shut the fuck up! He'll hear you!" hissed a voice from under a cash register counter.

The gurgling growl that followed made it pretty clear what she was referring too. I looked around: canoe display, skating equipment, camping stuff, shoes, shoes, shoes..."Where are the guns?"

"Are you high? We don't have any!"

"Motherfuck." The growler shambled forward, one obviously broken arm held in front of him. He seemed slow, especially since he had been a fat guy in a past life, but I didn't want to get cornered by him. Or crushed. There was a section of sports equipment like baseball bats, and I made my way to them.

I grabbed an aluminum bat, not because I was worried about breakage, but only because I had had one as a kid. Growly was shoving his way through a rack of jerseys, and I took another bat off the rack and rolled it in the direction he was coming. Sure enough, he stepped on the bat and did a pratfall on his face, and either his arm wouldn't support him or he was too dumb to try and catch himself. I smashed the bat down on the back of his skull, at least three times, and it stopped growling. I thought not seeing his face would be easier, but I had seen his name tag, he had been Carl, the general manager.

I thought about looking on Carl for keys, but had to look around: something turned Carl into a zombie, so there was probably another one roaming around somewhere. I yelled to the counter voice, "Hey! Do you have keys to the door!? Are there more here?"

"No." I still couldn't see whoever was hiding, and the voice sounded like it was from miles and years away.

"No what!?"

"No, he got bit outside. No, there's no one else here. No, I don't have any keys." The voice started to sound a little less far away, with just a trace of annoyance, but I still couldn't see her.

"Well, all right," I muttered, and turned back to Carl. A sludgey goo was forming a puddle under his face, and in the dim lighting, I noticed Carl actually seemed to glow slightly. Not the green Turner colorized Night of the Living Dead with, but still a faint sick green. His clothes appeared to be starting to melt as well, but he had the big manager's keyring on his belt, and I pulled it off, the loop of his pants giving like it was Play-doh.
"I've got the keys!" I yelled at the Mystery Voice. "We can lock the door, and then see what's going on!"

"Okay," said the Voice. She started to come out from under the counter, and I started for the door. I stopped for a moment, and discarded the bat I had used on Carl for a new, cleaner one, then turned back towards the door.

So I got a good view of the SUV plowing through the front doors. It didn't stop until it was completely on top of where the front counter, and the Mystery Voice, had been.


The front of Smart Sports now had an SUV-sized hole where it's front doors had been. I remembered there had been concrete pylons, probably there to prevent just such an occurrence from happening, and the SUV must've been going pretty fast, since there was no sign of them. If there's one thing I'm not going to miss in whatever this future turns out to be, it may be fucking SUV's.

There's no way for me to be sure, but I'm pretty sure this was the same SUV I saw at the Burger King. What was that, ten minutes ago?

The girl at the front counter that I had never seen, the Mystery Voice, was gone. Smart Sports was now no longer securable and didn't have guns. And the driver of the SUV had been saved by the airbag but from the sounds in there was obviously a zombie. And there were more outside. None had started in the hole yet, but I figured that wouldn't take long.

I had one idea left: when I had worked at this building before, the break room had been in back. I ran for it, occasionally grabbing items I thought I might need: a duffel bag, a windbreaker, several bottles of water, rope, some Swiss army knives in blister packaging that would probably take a Swiss army knife to get out. And some piton, spike-things. Those I would definitely need. By the time I reached the back, I could hear glass falling, so I didn't think I had much time.

The back of the store was even darker, and considering something could be around every corner or waiting in any shadow, it was fucking terrifying. Parts of the back were stairs and shelves for larger sale items, with the manager's office and break room walled and roofed like little boxes within. The break room had horrible fluorescent lighting, but was bright and clean and felt safer. I put a chair to the door to hold it closed, then smashed open the vending machines and packed up as many candy bars and pops as I could fit.

I had been afraid the noise might attract something, though, and I was right, but a lot quicker than I had expected. With a roar, something ran at the door and hit it so hard I expected zombies to flood into the room, but the lock and chair stood. Then came pounding, and an enraged screaming. Different than Growlee/Carl. This one sounded pissed, where the other had sounded mournfully hungry.

Still, this wasn't entirely unexpected, and I knew how to get into the ceiling from here, so I climbed on top of the pop machine, then moved the ceiling panel and brought up my bags. It was dark, so I had to adjust for a moment after I climbed up and closed the panel behind me. I had grabbed a flashlight before, a nice, heavy blunt instrument of a maglite, but it was packaged with batteries and not ready to use. Being careful where I placed my weight so I wouldn't fall through, I climbed over the break room. The levels adjacent would be easy enough for me to get to, but also easy enough for anything to jump at me if I was spotted.

Ideally, I wanted to get to the roof without any thing seeing me, so I could close the door behind me and have less worry about being followed. Back when I worked here, depending on which manager was working, the big fire alarm lever on the roof access door would be turned off so people could smoke on the roof. Either way, I was going to have to throw down my bags, hop down, climb a set of metal stairs, and get out the door. Simple enough any other time, but now, there was no telling.

Carefully looking over the side, I saw my Screamer: it was the busboy I had seen previously. Shit. He still wore a dirty white shirt and apron, now stained down the front with blood. There was a gory scalp wound on the back of his head, but it looked more painful than anything. Still, it was only him so far. I dropped one of my bags on the opposite side of the break room, and Screamy went running after it. Fast. He ignored the bag, but looked around spastically, his head jerking around. I quietly climbed back into the break room. Unplugged the TV and took it down from the wall mount, then put it on top of the pop machine. Climbed back up, as Screamee went back to pounding on the door.

While he moved like he was receiving electroshock, Screamee was a lot more active than the other two zombies I had seen. The pace of the screams changed, and I realized Screamee was breathing. Was he alive? Well, he wasn't friendly either way, and had to go. "Screamee," I said. He screamed straight up, as the TV smashed his face shut. He twitched a lot.

I took a quick look around: no one in back yet, but I didn't want to go back out front. I hopped down, grabbed my bags, and ran them up to the roof access. The door was open, so I took a quick look: A nice, clear, zombie-free rooftop. After I threw the bags onto the roof, I checked the door to make sure I could secure it from the roof side, all the while glancing over my shoulder to make sure nothing else had made its way to the back room yet.

I could see smoke, from several fires in the city. But I didn't have time to survey the damage just yet. Leaving the roof door open, I went back down the stairs, bat in hand.

It occurred to me the fridge may have more food that I would want later, so I tried that first. There was the remains of a case of Mountain Dew and a Subway sandwich that was probably Carl's, so I dumped the trash out of the little office garbage can and put them in. I also grabbed a first-aid kit, like it was a health pack in a video game. What I thought it would do I couldn't have told you, I'm pretty sure it didn't have anything for zombie bites. Anyway, I didn't think I had much time, but I checked Carl's office.

On his desk was a laptop, still in its case. I didn't know if I'd be able to do anything with it, but I could figure that out on the roof, not there. I grabbed it, and glanced around for anything else that might be helpful. There was a pair of binoculars in a case hanging on a coathook. I only wondered why Carl had them for a moment, and then made my way back to the roof access.

I could hear more zombies, now, roaming around the front of the building. I didn't know if they would hang around if they couldn't hear or see me, and I didn't want a bunch of them inside Smart if I could help it. I took one more look, to make sure I hadn't been followed, then closed the roof door behind me, locking myself up there for the duration, unless I got desperate enough to smash it or something. I used the spikes to wedge the door shut, so even if something did find it's way up there, it would be almost impossible to get through without tools.

There was a fire escape ladder on the roof, anyway, that telescoped down from the top so I'd be able to get down but no zombie would ever be able to reach it. I was safe. For the moment, anyway. I stood, panting, I don't know how long, until I finally realized I was still wearing my bike helmet. I'm quite sure my resulting fit of laughter sounded quite insane, but there was no one there to confirm that for me.


My next course of action was to survey my kingdom of roof. Apparently Smart Sports still had a couple smokers on staff, since there were a couple stained yard chairs up there and an ashtray between them. The chairs were placed facing not into the city proper but into the hills of suburbs and houses, some of which were also burning unchecked.

There was also a radio and an outlet, and I turned on the radio (to static) and plugged in Carl's laptop: it was probably charged, but I didn't know how long power would stay up, and I could be up here playing solitaire for quite a while. I glanced over the computer, noting it was nicer than mine at home, and it looked pretty new. I hoped there wasn't a password or anything, but I still had to look around before monkeying with it.

While I might have preferred a parapet, or whatever you call those ridged edges to a castle, the roof was secure, but I felt agoraphobic at the openness of it. Still, I could see some of the rooftops of the other stores, and didn't see anything yet. And in a pinch, I could probably get to the Pottery Barn's roof if needed.

Still, I was safe. Safe enough for now. I went back to the radio, dialed through the channels to an emergency broadcast signal that didn't seem to be ending soon, then got the binoculars. Plopping down in the chair, I started to look around, but before I did I checked the time on the laptop; which, as you might've guessed by now, wasn't password protected, thank...whoever.

I had only been gone an hour from work. I walked over to the side facing the office building I had been just that morning, and could see it had zombies. Lots of them. Damnit, that was a secure facility, where you had to swipe your ID card to get in. Then again, I guess it only takes one zombie inside to ruin the lot. I didn't use the binoculars. I didn't want to see anyone I knew.

Intersections were crowded with cars, wreckage, corpses moving and not. Even though I could still hear sirens, I didn't see any ambulances or fire trucks moving; but they doubtless would've been the first on the scene, and into the fire.

I looked then at the Burger King, which had three or four zombies roaming about outside, and smoke billowing out the drive-in window, which appeared to be blocked open by a torsoless body. As I watched, one of the screamier zombies Frankenstein-lurched outside, on fire, probably from the frier. He waved his arms, screaming, but it seemed less like it hurt than it was angry.

One of the slower-seeming zombies, a fat man missing most of an arm, turned toward Burner. Oblivious to the flame, Fatty walked over and took a bite out of Burner. This set Fatty's face on fire, and Burner shoved his thumbs through Fatty's trachea. Locked together, they gouged and bit and burned, until they fell over together, like a melting candle.

What the fuck was that?


Even though I had a pretty good vantage point, there was only so much I could see. Partly because a lot of it was horrible to watch, but also because there was so much going on. By two o'clock, there was an emergency broadcast about staying indoors, locking your doors, making peace with your god, etc. But by that point, I hadn't seen that many people--living people venturing out for a while.

The Safeway at the far end of the complex looked safe for a bit, but eventually I could see while a lot of zombies were still trying to get in, there were a fair amount of zombies inside as well. Crap. A couple of the smaller stores that way, a Hallmarks, a cell phone place, Radio Shack, a jewelers; all had doors closed and shutters down, which made me wonder if anyone might be OK there.

The Petsmart had a small pile of dogs, cats, maybe other animals milling about in front of it, seemingly unbothered by the zombies that occasionally walked through them. Someone had to have just let them all loose, rather than leave them to starve in their cages. The animals hadn't taken off just yet, though, as it looked like a couple of bags of food had broken and scattered in front of the doors. I hoped whoever let the animals out made it, but I wasn't gonna bet the farm on that one.

Best Buy didn't look infested, but the area directly in front of the store was littered with computers and DVD's and such. Looking at it forensically, I'd guess looters would run in, grab crap, run out, get eaten, get up, wander off. Great.

Target looked quiet, and part of the front of the store was blocked by a bus. Several zombies banged on the windows, but didn't seem like they were getting anywhere. Still, I couldn't see inside. I wondered how many of these places looked safe, but had zombies trapped inside like flies inside your house, buzzing about and hitting a window over and over.

(The big idea for this one, if and when I ever came back to it, was going to be that there were several distinct types of zombies roaming around: George Romero-style ghouls, voodoo zuevmbies or however you spell that, infected virus carriers ala 28 Days Later, even alien controlled corpse slaves as seen in The Earth Dies Screaming. Sort of Jane Goodall for the zombies, then.) Read more!

Beetle knows it's polite to open a door for a lady.

Another one from the draft pile, but any excuse to post more from Justice League Quarterly #3, "When you wish..." Keith Giffen plot, Gerard Jones dialogue, Mike McKone pencils and Bob Smith inks; still one of my favorite single issues ever.

Still offline, but working on it. The sad thing is, I should be like a month ahead on posts, but I haven't gotten anything done on that front, either: I have one new strip and a couple single-panel bits, but not a lot else. Hopefully, soon... Read more!

Your Happenstance panels for today:

From Captain America #376, "Cross Purposes" Written by Mark Gruenwald, art by Ron Lim and Danny Bulanadi. Like I said before, I had a whole Black Widow week planned, that never came through. Luckily, that means I still had this one squirreled away for just such an occasion.

In case you missed earlier Cap posts from the "Streets of Poison" biweekly summer event, by this point a crack-addled Captain America has already beat Daredevil so badly, DD lost his memory and wandered off. (Actually, DD receives a couple of beatings in this one, leading me to wonder if Gruenwald wasn't a fan...no, I'm pretty sure he was setting up a plotline for the regular Daredevil book.) Now a danger to himself and others, it's time to call in earth's mightiest heroes...or just Black Widow and Diamondback. Yeah, they've got it handled.

Right about here is Diamondback's high point as a character: Gruenwald did a great job of portraying her as someone willing to do anything for Cap, including become a better person. It's too bad that later on (this was maybe halfway through his run on Captain America) Gruenwald seemed stuck on how to use Rachel without moving her and Cap's relationship forward, or even backwards. I don't know if he was getting flak from some front for Cap dating a "villain," or if that was too mature for a pretty kid-friendly book. A later storyline where Diamondback's nearly beaten death by a rival, then becomes a scaredy-bear, isn't great; but it's a darn sight better than just about anything else she's been used in. (With the possible exception of her appearance in Cable/Deadpool, I haven't read that one.)

But as far as the Black Widow goes, unloading her Widow's sting in Cap's face is just another day at the office. She disparaged the sting on the last post, but does she wear those currently or not?
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What's more embarrassing?

A. Getting utterly spanked by the Penguin, cosmic powers or no.

B. Getting utterly spanked by the Flash, who doesn't even bother to use his own powers to beat you.

C. Getting your power ring or dolphins back from the Flash, who did a damn sight better with them than you did.

D. Trying to make small talk with Arthur and Hal on the way back to the Hall of Justice after utterly showing them up.

E. Still not having internet at home, and being reduced to dredging up who-knows-what out of the draft files? Assuming I didn't already post this in, I dunno, 2007...

Panel from, um, an issue of Super Powers, probably...hopefully, new stuff soon! Read more!

Probably not how to fix the comic industry, but it couldn't hurt.

From What The--?! #14, "Tangles" Written by Bill Wray, art by Rurik Tyler, gently poking fun at Todd McFarlane's Spider-Man #1.


This got me thinking about ol' Todd, something I don't usually do, and it suddenly hit me: Todd McFarlane is the Michael Jackson of comics...without any icky connotations that may bring. Consider: Started small on books like Infinity, Inc., worked his way up to popularity on Amazing Spider-Man, then Spider-Man #1 was his Thriller, a massive hit, never to be completely repeated. This would make Spawn #1 Bad: also a huge hit, but not as huge. And then...long stretches of no output, legal troubles, and making most of their money and headlines in other ventures. (Again, McFarlane's legal troubles are much less distasteful than Michael's.)

And then we've got this panel from Aaron Lopresti, just because it makes me smile.

I have no idea how long this post has been in the draft file...July 7, 2007. Huh. Well, still on no-internet mode, so it'll do. Have a good weekend! Read more!

(Somewhat) Off-topic: Dubious lessons learned from recent TV.

Since I usually watch Prison Break and the Sarah Connors Chronicles, I taped the season premiere of Heroes. Yes, taped. I'm not trendy enough to download it to anything or Tivo or any of that nonsense.

A few words on Prison Break, a show that's come a long way from it's titular premise: while not a great show, it's at least entertaining, and although this isn't as prevalent as it was in prior seasons, you could probably get the general idea if you watch the first and last five minutes of each episode. Seriously, if you've ever felt swamped by a problem that looked way too big for you to ever deal with, watch this show. The brothers Scofield and Burrows, and their merry men, will show you how to break down a mountain of a task into several smaller, seemingly insurmountable tasks, that you can attack in one-hour installments. You may even have trouble with those, but persevere, and you can accomplish your goal, which will then lead to you being thrown into an even worse situation. The long, serial, formula, uphill climb of the characters on this show are a lot like a lot of comics, really. Or Super Mario Brothers: Sorry, but your princess is in another prison!

But Heroes, and I didn't think of this while I was watching it, the subject came up the other day at the Fortress of Fortitude: the heroes of Heroes seem to mess up, drop the ball, screw the pooch, shoot themselves in the foot, and so forth, a lot. A lot, a lot. Like, if anyone had any sense, or used their powers in a reasonable fashion, the show would be if not over, a lot shorter.

Mohinder: Oh no! The untested injection that I had no idea what it would do, is mutating me somehow! How did this happen? (Admittedly, scientists shooting themselves up with their discoveries is a proud comics' tradition, and Mohinder could do a lot worse than turning himself into the Hulk or the Lizard. Man-Thing maybe.)

Nicki, or whoever she is now: Oops! Accidentally froze a guy! Well, I'm sure no one will notice, or come looking for him...

Future Peter: Whoops! Changed my crappy future into something worse! Better change it some more...damnit!

Present Peter: Uh-oh! I look like an escaped prisoner! Better play along, regardless of whether I have my powers or someone else's!

The two "agents" that tried to stop Sylar: Oh noes! The taser isn't working! If only we had something, anything else to try! (Really, they looked at each other like they both thought the other had the bazooka, before Sylar did his point-and-grab power on them.)

Hiro: So bored...if only I had some noble quest, regardless of what danger it might pose for the world...hey, my inheritance! Dad's last wish is not to touch it, but I'm sure it won't get stolen seconds after I open it...hey!

So, Prison Break features characters in a series of Sisyphean tasks, where the goalposts keep moving farther away. Repetitive, but more entertaining than Heroes, where bad decisions and unforced errors seem to keep the plot moving. Moving in a downward spiral towards an inevitable disaster that can only be sped up by the characters' actions, but moving. Sort of. Read more!

"Chances are, if you got here looking for 'Gorn,' there's a typo involved. And if I'm wrong, but you meant something other than this...don't correct me."

Last week (a couple of last weeks ago now, actually) I lost an eBay auction for an Art Asylum Star Trek Gorn figure (and Khan, and another Kirk, both of which were incidental at best) so I dug out the old Playmates version. He was a pretty good figure for the time, but is obviously a bit short to play with the more current figures. In a bit of a slap to the face, the Gorn captain also came with the cannon Kirk used to beat him.

The particularly hardcore Trek fans may notice the Kirk used here is from the second pilot, "Where No Man Has Gone Before." He came with the captain's chair with that weird little desklamp looking thing.

Still on no-internet mode, although maybe I'll get some posts done for later. Or maybe I'll play videogames. No telling, really. Read more!

Originally uploaded by googum

From Black Widow #2 (2004) "Right to a Life, part 2) Written by Richard K. Morgan, layouts by Goran Parlov, finishes by Bill Sienkiewicz. Had this lodged in the flickr too, since I had wanted to do a week of Black Widow. The timing never came out right, since I had thought there was supposed to be a third limited series from this team, but it's been years and it's never materialized.

Really enjoyed both of Morgan's Black Widow limiteds. The only downside to this series is that it, like Fury or the MAX Punisher, isn't part of the mainstream Marvel continuity, no matter how good it is or how much it makes sense. These series take the heroes in directions that would be problematic in keeping them in play in a universe with the Eternals, Fin Fang Foom, and Wolverine. It's mildly disappointing, that this Natasha isn't going to the same one in Bendis' Mighty Avengers, but this Natasha wouldn't support registration or any of that nonsense. (How did the Widow end up on the opposite side of Daredevil?)

Also, I liked that so far, these have been limited series, and they haven't tried to force the square peg of a novelist into the round hole of a monthly schedule. Yeah, you know how well that usually turns out. Morgan also scored points with me for working with a single character (and Fury and Daredevil cameos), rather than hopping with both feet into the toybox and breaking toys right and left...not to point fingers or name names or anything...

I do miss Natasha's short haircut, though...
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Originally uploaded by googum

My internet is still down at home, so after minimal posting this week, I might be down to reruns. Still, I had this in my flickr stuff and had never gotten around to it before, since I had some thoughts about Green Lantern that I never nailed down. Well, no time like the present! The scan is from Green Lantern Corps #217, written by Steve Englehart, art by Joe Staton and Mark Farmer.

I last read Green Lantern regularly when it was Green Lantern Corps, in 1987, probably starting after the 200th issue: Hal Jordan had returned, Guy Gardner was still out there being a complete a-hole, and earth suddenly had a crapload of aliens with power rings roaming about. Even that, and the quagmire Millenium crossover couldn't save it: the book was cancelled with issue #224. That issue sucked: Flodo Span dies, most all Green Lanterns lose their rings, Hal Jordan looks like he's waving the shattered power battery a jaunty goodbye on the cover...I'm going to have to dig up that issue to harsh on it separately.

I like Steve Englehart's work, generally; but the GLC stuff seems really sporadic. Like he'll bring something good, then something bad. He has a good cast going, classic Lanterns Hal, John, Katma, and new greats Kilowog and Salaak. Then he has C'hp, a funny animal-style chipmunk; and Arisia, who's only character trait was that she was underage and really liked Hal. REALLY liked.

Arisia's history and origin and status has been changed several times, but back then, she was very obviously a preteen girl with a crush on Hal. A preteen girl with a power ring, and enough willpower to turn herself into an adult that could date Hal. (This was well before the internet, and Barely Legal magazine; and I'm not sure anyone said boo at the time.) Retcons have changed Arisia's age to older than Hal, but alien, but not statuatory.

Like several old-school GL's through Emerald Twilight and the Kyle Rayner years, I think Arisia was dead, or gone, then back. Salaak and Kilowog were in the same boat; the big K getting a memorable death scene fighting the insane Hal Jordan/Parallax in Twilight, then a less memorable return towards the end of Kyle's tenure. (Seriously, I probably have the issues in question, but have no idea how Kilowog came back.)

Both the last issue of GLC and Emerald Twilight share an intention of changing the focus to a single Green Lantern, instead of a corps of hundreds. Which is completely missing the point, but whatever...but that explains why characters like Arisia, Salaak, and Kilowog had to be lost or killed for a bit: when Kyle first got the ring, he was supposed to be a know-nothing rookie; having three or more friendly aliens there to give him pointers would have undercut that.

Let's talk about Kilowog for a bit: I had kind of forgotten, but he's a bit of a tool in those early appearances. As near as I can recall, the notion of Kilowog as the GLC's drill sargent is a recent addition. When he joins the earth-based Lanterns in #201, he's just kind of there, doesn't really give a reason or seem to have anything better to do, and earth seemed to be a happening spot.

Shortly thereafter, Kilowog goes to Russia, because he's apparently from a non-corrupt communist society. Dumb. He creates the Red Rocket Corps, which is both cool and stupid at the same time: no prime directive for the Green Lanterns, eh? Nothing wrong with giving one faction of warring primates advanced alien technology? Never seen Star Trek, Kilowog? Of course, he's then shocked when the head Soviets turn out to be corrupt. Ass.

Still later, tying into the scan pictured a little, Kilowog reveals that his homeworld was destroyed, but his people were saved on his ring. Yeah...that's the trouble with a series based on a magic wishing ring, isn't it? There's a world within the power ring, it can keep you alive, it can automatically protect you, it can form illusions, it can age you or make you younger; it can do just about any damn thing, just not consistently. Kilowog restores his people, only to have them destroyed not five minutes later by Sinestro and his pet evil sector of space. (Which, I'm almost positive, was from an Alan Moore story, and is probably due for a comeback, if it hasn't already.)

I have a vague feeling that this too has been changed somewhere, and there is a whole planet o' poozers out there somewhere. Partly, because Kilowog rarely seems to act like the last survivor of his race; and mostly because if he was the last one, wouldn't Kilowog have kicked Sinestro's ass inside out by now? Repeatedly? At any rate, the big guy was one of the few GL's to be used in any useful fashion after the disbanding of the Corps: Guy Gardner, who of course still had a ring, would recruit Kilowog as the Justice League's handyman, which would go a long way to making him the big lug we now know and love. (Kilowog, not Guy, although that issue does make Guy a lot less of a one-dimensional buffoon, too...)

Back to the scan: the three new Lanterns there, Flodo Span, Olapet, and Driq; were all pretty much screwed in the last issue of Green Lantern Corps. Then again, just about everything in the closing arc kills it for me: Sinestro, found guilty of so many, many crimes; is put to death by the GLC. But, the Guardians had left a failsafe in the power battery, back when the females of their species left them en masse to become the Zamarons. Fearing what might happen if they succumbed to jealously, the Guardians left a failsafe in the main power battery on Oa, to prevent them or their Green Lanterns from fatally retaliating against their ex-girlfriends' new boys, the male Korugarians...like Sinestro.

There is so, so much wrong with this.

First, admittedly after breaking up with the Smurf-like Guardians of the Universe, anyone might look good; but Sinestro is not a handsome guy, and I have to believe he's a prime example of Korugarian manhood. Second, why the hell would the Guardians even let Sinestro become a GL? It would be like hiring your ex's boyfriend...then being surprised that he's an evil bastard, insult to injury. Lastly, the failsafe could've been avoided if the GL's had simply shot Sinestro, let Kilowog snap his neck, pushed him out an airlock, etc: instead, the GL's "will" him to death with their rings.

The remaining dateless Guardian acts all embarrassed about not mentioning the failsafe that's destroying the power battery, the rings, and the corps; but it still seems like the sort of thing you might wanna write down somewhere. Like maybe a big warning label on the side of the battery. In, let's see, 3600+ languages.

As Green Lantern rings across the galaxy start to go out, Driq is one of the first to go: he had been dead for quite some time at this point, and it was implied that he wasn't still going because of his indomitable Green Lantern willpower, but because his power ring refused to let him go. Which makes me wonder, was Driq recharging his ring, or was it nudging him along? Was Driq even still in there? Is that normal for a power ring? Sadly, we may never know.

Hal and Flodo Span go into the power battery to try to save it. Of course Hal's ring won't quit, he's Hal. But poor Flodo's ring dies, and him with it: turns out he was an "abstract life-form" generated by the ring. The Guardians must be supercool about weird crap like this: this would be like General Motors turning out a car, that drove itself out of the factory and decided to become a cop. We'd call it "Christine" and bazooka it to death, I'm thinking.

Meanwhile, John Stewart fights Goldface. Yay! No, Goldface sucks. Sucks sucks sucks. Hal gets to try to save the universe's number one peace-keeping force, and John has to wrestle an armored guy with a mask that looks like a golden mime. Of course, looking back, this was the start of several years of crapping all over John: loses his ring, loses his wife Katma, gets his ring back, accidentally blows up some planet, he's got Guardian level powers in Mosaic, oops, now he's a Darkstar, then he's paralyzed, then not...DC has characters that went to Vertigo and back that were treated better. Of course, after the Justice League cartoons, John's star has risen.

Ah, who else, as long as I'm rambling? There was Salaak, who is being used to some good effect in the current books, as a crabby administrative type. And Ch'p, the Green Lantern squirrel. Look, Ch'p is either one of those things in comics that you're going to love, or absolutely hate, like MODOK. Remember, in the 80's, MODOK wasn't cool, he was an embarassment. (That's another post, if I ever get back online!) Not unlike MODOK, Ch'p was killed off in particularly ignoble fashion: hit by a truck in Mosiac. Poor Ch'p is also one of the few GL's mentioned here to be killed and stay dead, although in a book like Green Lantern, any alien killed like Ch'p, Katma Tui, or Tomar-Re; can be replaced by another of their species either interchangeably, or as a new character like Soranik Natu.

Woof! I started some of this post years ago, which is why it goes on a bit, but this is what happens when I've got some downtime but can't scan. New strip on Wednesday, but we'll see what, if anything else, we can come up with...
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"90% of any given day in Atlantis:"

A couple weeks ago, a neighbor moved, and had an estate sale. I bought a tackle box, and cleaned it out to use for all my action figure accessories and doodads. There were a few hooks left though, which suggested this one.

The posting this week has been on autopilot: as I write this, my internet's down at home, and might be for a bit! There is a new strip set for Wednesday, and I might be able to pull something out of thin air between now and then. Have a good weekend!

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"Spear carriers, chair fillers, second bananas, what-have-you." Even though DC Universe Classics is blazing through the roster, there's still some characters that probably aren't going to be remade anytime soon, which leaves the sales racks of DC Direct. I got Wonder Girl and Animal Man for $4.94 a piece a while back, which is more than I've ever spent on either of their comics. I had to wikipedia Donna Troy to get the gist of her multiple origins, and did you know Donna can copy the voice of anyone she's ever heard? That's from an issue of The Brave and the Bold, so who knows if that ever came up again.

I'm a bit more familiar with Buddy, though:

I did have to look up the cover to Justice League Europe #1, since I knew there were more members at the launch than this: I don't have an Elongated Man figure, poor Rocket Red has only had a Justice League Unlimited scale one, and Wonder Woman not only was only on the team for five minutes, I'm waiting on the DCUC version.

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Your happenstance panel for today:

From Excalibur #103, "Bend Sinister, Reprise" Written by Warren Ellis, pencils by Carlos Pacheco, inks by Scott Koblish and Bob Wiacek. This was Warren's last issue, and would've been a good last issue for the series; since the last twenty-two issues are, in comparison, so terrible they'll hurt your feelings. And I don't clamor for trades of stuff I already have very often, but sweet Georgia Brown, I'd love Excalibur trades of the Warren Ellis run.

Oh, and Joss Whedon fans? Ellis wrote a better Kitty Pryde. Suck it. Read more!

It's been said before, many times, many ways, but...

The only golden rule is that Michael Golden rules.

A couple of the things I like about this one:

1. Marvel heroes really are giants. Literally. Are the civilians in the middle less than five feet tall? 'Cause if so, Iron Man and Cap are like seven feet tall. Plus!

2. Ant-man is either really close to the camera, or that ant is friggin' huge.

3. I miss the days when Conan was a de facto Marvel character. Although, it does look like She-Hulk's gonna paste him one.

4. God, the Silver Surfer looks absolutely numb there. (Above the Thing, by Spidey's foot!) Actually, most everyone looks either nonplussed or annoyed. Howard the Duck in particular looks like he's got murder on mind.

From a subscription ad in Marvel Super Special #24: The Dark Crystal. Inks by Terry Austin. Read more!

Man, Superhero Squad figures can be weird sometimes.
I got this two-pack the other day, and while I do like the style of these little figures, it's kind of rare for me to pay full price for them. Still, I've only seen the one set of these two, that I bought, so I'm glad I didn't wait around. I've had something in mind involving these, but I was thinking about getting an Indiana Jones one first; and the upcoming G.I. Joe ones look pretty nice as well.

It may seem odd to some that a mass-murdering psychopath and a mercenary nutjob are being immortalized in plastic toys for little, little kids; but outside of the context of the comics, they can be whatever imagination wants them to be. That, and these figures are primarily purchased by pre-existing fans of the characters, i.e. grown-ups. (In retrospect, that seems kind of obvious: not a lot of five-year-olds take themselves to the toy stores...)

And of course, I already have the Nightcrawler Superhero Squad figure. Plans are unfolding. Heh-heh-heh...

Guff, busy week! We'll see if I can keep up the pace next week! Read more!

"The really insulting thing, is how surprised everyone looks every time Hal makes it to another birthday..."
Focus your willpower to enlarge! Or, y'know, click on them.


Of course Hal reads Playboy and Men's Health: I don't see him as hung up about his clothes enough for GQ or Esquire...

The toys this time: Hal, Bats, Supes, and Aquaman (who is in a tube because I found it lying around and thought it was funny...) are all from the recent DC Universe Classics line. The lines only three waves in, and has hit some of the high notes, but a lot of big names still haven't shown up yet, like Flash or Green Arrow. Man, I thought that old DC Direct Green Arrow figure had held up a little better, but it seems really dated, and that later Flash isn't much better. I don't know where I put the DCUC Red Tornado, either: he didn't end up with any lines, but the old DC Direct one is on the right side of some of the pictures. I've had two of those, and the arms break super-easy, since Reddy seems like he should have a glove swivel and he totally doesn't.

Having Firestorm and Red Tornado there gives it a bit of an old-school Satellite-era League feel, but I'm a little disappointed I didn't have a good Wonder Woman or Black Canary figure for this. Then again, Hal and female friends...that he hasn't or doesn't or refrains from making passes at...probably kind of a short list. Any party with booze and Hal and Ollie? The JLA's liability coverage probably doesn't cover for them to have girls there too.

The "JLA Satellite" is mostly Star Trek bridge stuff, old-school and old: the 'viewscreen' scenes are from the old Mego Bridge, which is being reissued next year and is really tempting; and the console and chair are from Art Asylum's Enterprise line. (Like I mentioned before, Greg the Bunny had a great looking picture using that as a set piece.) Aquaman's tank, which I know he doesn't really need but it's fun, is from a movie Hulk toy. Oh, the helmets, which I'm really hoping I didn't use all of them in the Deadpool/Speed Racer one...crap. Well, the space helmet's from Enterprise again, and the green-yellow one is Rouge Trooper's. (EDIT: Oh, hell, it is not: that's the helmet of Johnny Alpha, Strontium Dog. Cool, but Rouge Trooper's Helm is chattier and cooler...)


I don't know if more's been added lately, but there's a pile of head injury comedy at Sleestak's Green Lantern Head Injury Project. Fanwank just had a GL strip the other day, SallyP is on at least day two of Whack a Lantern Week, and Sea of Green is dishing out beatdowns to GL's too. There's like an 80-page giant of punishment for Green Lanterns this week, so check 'em out. Read more!

Your happenstance panels for today:
From Bill and Ted's Excellent Comic Book #1, "Party On Dudes!" Written and pencilled by Evan Dorkin, inks by Stephen DeStefano. I have a copy of this somewhere, but I saved this one from the same yard sale I got a Dark Crystal Super Special. I don't know if someone thought they were going to be collector's items someday, they weren't in great shape, but I'll give 'em a good home. Read more!

How many candles would be on Green Lantern's cake?

"Allowing for decompression, Crisis, the time he spent dead and as the Spectre, the time he spent in the future, One Year Later...you may need a separate sheet to show your work."

A little link trail first: we started with a search on Ask Cerebra, which lead to a post on Pretty, Fizzy Paradise that linked to the DC Universe Calendar. All this to find Green Lantern Hal Jordan's birthday, which is actually February 20; but we're not waiting around for that. Wednesday, Green Lantern's birthday. Be here!

Oh, and we'll talk about the set and the toys then, but a quick thanks and heads up to the photostream of Greg the Bunny that reminded me I had one of those set pieces... Read more!

"Cue fight music in three, two, one..."

I slapped this together as a joke, but now I have to wonder: Captain James T. Kirk versus Green Lantern Hal "Highball" Jordan? In a fistfight, I gotta say Hal in three rounds, but I figure he'd know he'd been in a fight. And five bucks says both their shirts conveniently rip.

By the by, are pilots encouraged to give themselves callsigns after drinks? 'Cause I'd call "Gin fizz." Read more!

Ever wonder who would win in a fight: Arnold Schwarzenegger or Orlando Bloom?

What the hell kind of question is that? Oh, I brought it up? Well, we aren't even really close to that one, but we are going to look at Conan versus pirates!

Now, Conan actually spent a good chunk of time when he was younger as a pirate himself, eventually quitting the seagoing life (for the most part) when his love and pirate queen, Belit, was killed. Eventually, Conan became king of Aquilonia and took a wife, and that's where we come in.

In a seafaring smash-and-grab, the dread pirate Iron Bones and his mottled crew kidnap said wife, Zenobia; planning to get a king's ransom for her. Or something. This is almost a good idea, except they're trying it on Conan, who at this point in his career, has killed more people than death. Really, it would've been common knowledge that Conan killed his way up the ladder to king, right? Maybe you wanna try the queen-napping next door in Ophir or something?
Conan arrives back from another adventure ready to see his wife, only to find out she's seeing her folks off on a state trip. Upon getting the message of her kidnap, he leaves the country to his regents, again. Considering the state of long distance communications in the Hyborian Age is pretty much yelling, they probably ran the show most of the time anyway.

Conan stomps down to the nearest ship he can find, with a squad of cannon-fodder soldiers; and commandeers it. In fact, we don't really see the captain of the ship, he may have opted out of this little pleasure cruise.

Meanwhile, after several of the obligatory tankards of grog, Iron Bones decides to inspect his prize, toying with her until his first mate, the dreamy Nestor, stops him: Later, Nestor chats up the queen: turns out, they were both from Nemedia. The king at the time drove out Zenobia and her parents, while Nestor took to the sea. Zenobia's confident Conan's sailing to her rescue, giving Nestor the perfect shot for a great line: "He'd be a blind fool who wouldn't risk his all for a beauty like Zenobia." Unluckily for him, the tender moment is interrupted by Captain Bones throwing a cheating sailor over the side.

Meanwhile, the crew of the ship Conan's taken has come to the conclusion that he's pirated their craft, which is pretty accurate, honestly. They rise up, and Conan calls it a mutiny, but they're just defending themselves and their ship from the crazy barbarian who's taking them to fight pirates. In the fight that follows, Conan punches a guy off the crow's nest, then dives overboard to try and save one of his own men, which leads to a shark fight. Naturally. Again, King Conan's killed creatures great and small, and doesn't seem to bothered about it:

Conan and his men retake the ship, the surviving sailors put in irons. Shortly thereafter (well, "several days later," but it's on the same page) they find the pirate ship. Iron Bones wants Zenobia tied to the mast, planning on killing her if the deal goes south or the ransom's not in his color or just if he feels like it. Nestor protests, then challenges Bones for the ship.
Zenobia's already getting a little soft on Nestor, and is concerned for the three seconds it takes him to gut Bones. Nestor then unties her, but explains that she belongs to the ship, and her ransom to the crew, so he can't just turn her over to Conan. But fighting for her is OK. Which would also dick the crew out of their ransom, but all right.

Conan arms his crew, including the mutinous sailors, assuring their cooperation by scuttling their own boat: they'll take the pirates' ship, or die. The ships engage, Conan quickly hacking his way to Nestor, who is likewise doing a number on Conan's men.

Mentioning you're after his wife, mid-duel, probably wasn't good form, but I guess too late now. Conan rescues his wife, and has the start of a good laugh at the idea that one of those scurvy pirates wanted to keep her for himself. Zenobia strides up to the deck to see:
From King Conan #19, "Bones and a Blade" Written by Alan Zelenetz, pencils by Marc Silvestri, inks by Mike Gustovich. I liked this issue, but the coloring isn't anywhere near as sharp as a more modern comic--but it's more nuanced then the usual four-color frenzy. I'm not a huge Silvestri fan either, since I'm only familiar with some of his X-Men and Cyberforce work and it always seemed to have more lines than it needed to. Still, this doesn't seem as rendered, but that may just mean the inks are overpowering it. Or maybe I'm overthinking very early work from Silvestri just because of the name attached. The art's very Marvel-Conan of its time.

Although Marvel's Conan the Barbarian has been collected at least in part, and Savage Sword of Conan is in the midst of being reprinted (although I'm not sure of the availability, and weren't a lot of those previously reprinted in Conan Saga?) I don't know if anyone's jumping up and down for King Conan/Conan the King to hit the shelves again. I bought the series regularly from #28 until cancellation, but a key factor there was that I distinctly remember it came out bimonthly, towards the start of the month, on a week that was a bit slow release-wise for me. In other words, when it hit the spinner rack, there wasn't anything else I was going to buy, and damned if I wasn't going to buy something.

Conan the King was bimonthly, but counter intuitively, it was more continuity-heavy than either Conan the Barbarian or Savage Sword. So every two months, it was a bit of a chore to try and recall which regent was Prospero and which one was Trocero and what countries were allied with Aquilonia and which against and so forth. And in the other Conan books, he was living free and easy, or rather, mowing down all who opposed him, drinking and wenching and having fun. As king, Conan had responsibilities, a wife, a kid (at least one); and seemed to feel tied down, stifled. The early issues especially, where he usually handed regency over to the aforementioned Prospero and Trocero (yes, Conan does the job of two older men) and ditched out to fight a wizard or stab some guys or whatever. I also think in the original Howard stories, as a king Conan had a beard, but Marvel probably figured nobody would want to read Grampa Conan.

I do wish I still had issue #28, which guest stars an somewhat improbably still-hot Red Sonja. I say "improbably" not because she would've been in at least her late forties (maybe fifties even) by this point in the series, but because she was in her late forties in an imaginary historical age where the average life expectancy was probably like twelve. At the first sight of her, the only "one that got away" in Conan's life, he's ready to ditch the crown, the wife, the whole magilla; to run around with "Son-ya" and play at being a thief again.

Best of my recollection, Sonja not only plays Conan for a sap in her scheme, she also pretty plainly lays out that Conan is not getting in her pants either. (She didn't wear pants, but that's neither here nor there.) It's a little embarrassing, to watch Conan get shot down, and have to swallow his pride and go back to his life. Sad, but it is one of two King Conan issues that I remember well, so there's that at least.

Oh, and the answer to the earlier question: Schwarzenegger wins, but then his wife resents him a little for it...

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"Yeah, that'd probably be my Green Lantern oath, too."

Got the DC Universe Classics Green Lantern a couple weeks ago, but hadn't had time to take any pictures with him, since I had some bright idea for the lighting that took a bit to set up. (The Oldest had these little colored finger-lights that he got from some school fundraiser for selling candy or something, and of course the green one came in handy.) Great figure, right up there with the DCUC Aquaman.

We already talked about Alan, and I think we've mentioned Jade before, but the Kyle figure is starting to look a little dated. The costume hasn't aged that badly, but Kyle's hair just doesn't seem right. Kilowog, of course, is perfect.

More than ever, though, I wish I had good John Stewart (non-Justice League cartoon figures, of course) and Guy Gardner figures...especially since, I don't think I like Hal as much as I used to. Keep in mind, Hal was the Green Lantern I grew up with, from Challenge of the Super Friends to his own book to Green Lantern Corps...to cancellation, to a hit-and-miss serial in Action Comics Weekly, to a couple of specials where he didn't necessarily come across as heroic, and this is all before Kyle.

Kyle was perfect for Grant Morrison's run on JLA, and while I didn't necessarily agree with Hal's heel turn as Parallax, his redemption in Final Night wouldn't have been a bad spot for him to end. The Spectre days...from what I've read, "misfire" seems like the nice way to put it. Pawning all of Hal's crimes (or retroactively erasing them, like Kilowog's death) onto the evil yellow entity still seems a little cheap to me, but all right.

And now we've got Hal back, but we still have Kyle, the former rookie who's more than earned his spot; and Alan, the elder statesman; and John, the tragic thinker; and Guy...ah, Guy, who used to be a comic relief tough guy cartoon, but now seems a lot more fleshed out than Hal. All of the others, including several of the alien GL's, sometimes seem to be more realized characters than Hal, since he's often used as either the consummate professional superhero, or a skirt-chasing rule-breaking flyboy.

The problem was underlined for me, in, of all places, Booster Gold #1,000,000. For those of you not reading the book, maybe you should, but Booster used to be a shill, a fake: he wanted to be a super hero for the fame, money, and women. Now he's grown up a bit, but is tasked with protecting the time stream, but there's a catch: Booster has to maintain his bad reputation, allow his friends, and the world, to think he's a joke, in order to protect himself from time-travelling attack.

A disgruntled Booster ends up in Vegas fighting the Royal Flush Gang--the super-villain team he first fought in Justice League #4 to gain membership--and isn't having a lot of trouble, when Green Lantern and Green Arrow show up to bail him out. They just happened to be in town, to catch a fight; which just struck me as something really old; and perhaps unintentionally, they come down on Booster a bit like the establishment. Like characters from the sixties. Booster--friggin' Booster Gold has moved forward. Why haven't GL and GA?

Oh, but now Green Lantern has purple lanterns. Yeah, that makes up for any lack of character growth. Sinestro's yellow ringbearers, that's cool; but I don't know if I can care about blue lanterns or zombie lanterns or whatever. Unless they get to the ultraviolet lanterns, who are all absurdly tanned.

A longer Green Lantern-centered strip is in the works, pending some prop and background work. We'll see what I think of him then...

I did do an alternate take for this one, and it's over at my flickr page.

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"Your happenstance panels for today:"

From Deadpool #35, "Chapter X, Verse Two" Written by Christopher Priest, pencils by Paco Diaz, inks by Andy Smith. As if this scene wasn't enough, this one's got Death captured, Deadpool as a decoy for the Hobgoblin, and then the Frightful Four: the Wingless Wizard, Taskmaster, the Constrictor, and Pool. The Thing guest stars.

I don't think I appreciated this one enough at the time, but the above is still one of my favorite bits. Read more!

"Is...is anyone else seeing this?"

I was setting something else up, and this hit me upside the head. Anyone else see the resemblance between:

Did I just figure out Green Lantern's secret identity or what? The worst part is, both John McCain and Alan Scott are vulnerable to jabs with wooden spears...(that is a terrible joke, that thankfully, only Republican Green Lantern fans will get, Sally, Sea, hope you're voting for Obama!)

McCain photo from the Wife's US Weekly, and Alex Ross did the redesign for the Kingdom Come Green Lantern. Why did Mark Waid and Ross go with Alan Scott instead of Hal, John, Guy, Kyle, Kilowog...? (I know why not Kyle, but...) Read more!