“I Love It When Men Talk About Pork.” COMICS! Sometimes You Just Got To Keep On Killin' 'Em All 'Til All The Killin' Is Done!

In which I look at some PunisherMAX comics. But not the PunisherMAX comics everyone likes. That would be too easy. No, these are the other PunisherMAX comics. The PunisherMAX comics no one ever mentions. The PunisherMAXes Garth Ennis didn’t write. Those PunisherMax comics. PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Parlov, Gischler, Loughridge & Petit

Anyway, this...

1) Half-Hearted Apologia:

So, yeah, I took a break which was fun. Except I have been following the news. We’ve got a General Election on, doncha know. Apparently The Tories are going to win despite the fact they make Norsefire look cuddly and their leader displays all the charm and humanity of Lady Darkseid; while their manifesto is centred around foxhunting and taking old people’s homes off them to sell to Lady Darkseid’s husband’s mates. Look I’m not saying the political class in this country are a shitshow but I’ve heard they are such a shitshow a bunch of shitshows are starting a Kickstarter to sue them for defamation of shitshows everywhere. They make shitshows look bad is what I’m saying. What I’m also saying is I’m a bit out of sorts and so for solace I turned to a big man with a gun shooting his problems in the face.  Because I am civilized.

2) PunisherMAX: What Has Gone Before.

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Parlov, Gischler, Loughridge & Petit

Despite sounding like an unwise purchase from a dispenser in a night club toilet PunisherMAX was a pretty good little run of comics. (The title of the comic varies for reasons known only to the minds at Marvel©™®, I've just left it as PunisherMAX because that joke wouldn't have worked.) Garth Ennis reined in his playground bully humour and delivered, via the art of many partners,  a masterpiece of incrementally increasing horror. Starting off unpromisingly with brayingly unfunny crap like testicles in a paper cup, the series quickly transcended the oafish drollery of Marvel Knights Punisher by presenting essentially the same story but, and it really worked this, each time everything was that bit more appalling, until it all ended in a future so post apocalyptically awful that only the magnificent Richard Corben could do it justice. His story having being told Ennis jumped ship. Which is uncharacteristically wise behaviour from a comics writer, it must be said. But Marvel©™® weren’t giving up a critically lauded cash-cow that easily. So the book limped on under a number of writers. That’s ungenerous of me. While these issues pale in comparison to Ennis & pals’ nightmarish epic, well, so do most comics. Taken as their own thing these issues of PunisherMAX are pretty entertaining Thug With A Gun stuff.

3) It’s Not Sordid, Ma! It’s Purgative!

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Parlov, Gischler, Loughridge & Petit

There’s not really much point gussying it up, The Punisher isn’t literature, was never meant to be literature and is highly unlikely to ever be literature. The whole ethos embodied by The Punisher comes from a bad place. And I don’t mean Brooklyn. Wacka wacka wacka! The Punisher comes from that subterranean pit of the male psyche that wants violence to solve everything, and to be the biggest dick in a world of big dicks. The Punisher is the poster boy for the inadequate revenge fantasy in all of us. Even those who aren’t white or male. We’ve all been hurt and felt the lesser for it, and we’ve all wanted to fuck that fuck’s shit right the fuck up. But most of us don’t. Because we can’t. But Frank can. In these issues Frank faces off drug traffickers, monied sociopaths and inbred hicks. And he fucks aaaaaaall their shit up. Of course two seconds later the vacuum left by these corpses is filled by other drug traffickers, monied sociopaths and inbred hicks. Frank forever crops the Weed of Evil but he never pulls out the roots. Because that’s complex stuff, the kind of stuff that requires social funding, education, rehabilitation programmes, investment in social infrastructure and a genuine push to eradicate the inherent inequality of a social system which rewards the few at the cost of the many. That’s not really Frank’s bag. He does do as much good as a nutter with a gun can, though. Fair’s fair.

4) The Men Who Aren’t Garth Ennis.

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Lacombe, Swierczynski, Staples & Petit

It’s an interesting roster of writers too; all taken from the Crime section of the library. No strangers to chewy macho action these guys. Obviously I’ve not read them, because that would require some degree of professionalism, but I did look at the titles they have penned. Greg Hurwitz has The Kill Clause, Troubleshooter, Bullet Fucker, etc; Victor Gischler has Shotgun Opera, Gun Monkeys, Kalashnikov Suppository, etc; and Duane Swierczynski has Revolver, The Wheelman, Vegan Cooking For Busy Moms, etc etc.  All burly, well-ripped titles which suggest that though they may sit behind desks these guys could crack concrete blocks with their cocks. It looks like these guys are the guys (and they are guys) who write the sweaty meats in the carvery of literature. The kind of thing where some dude (and it is usually a dude) with a harrowing past still somehow manages to be superhumanly capable in the violence stakes when push comes to shove. And push is forever coming to shove. The kind of stuff mechanics would have had rolled up in their oil stained back pockets in gas stations all across the American Past. In the American Present they are read by men who know what a latte is, and think a harrowing past is that time the wifi acted up and they couldn’t smoothly stream that episode of Veronica Mars involving the cupcake and the chimp. Times change but men don’t, is what I’m getting at there. Men will always want to be able to punch through someone’s skull so hard they wear the luckless chump’s face like a glove. And to be right in doing so.  All men. Rabbis and Social Workers too. Particularly Rabbis and social workers. Especially Rabbis and Social Workers. I don’t mean to be a misogynist prick but I imagine women are different to men in this respect. Maybe not, I’m not willing to speculate. But men? I know whereof I speak. And being a man I am not immune to the sweaty charms of these comics .

5) At Long Goddamned Last The Actual Comics (Cue Fanfare!): 

GIRLS IN WHITE DRESSES PUNISHER (AKA PUNISHERMAX) #61-65 Art by Laurence Campbell Written by Greg Hurwitz Coloured by Lee Loughridge Lettered by VC's Cory Pettit Covers by Dave Johnson The Punisher created by John Romita Snr, Ross Andru & Gerry Conway Marvel©™®, $ 2.99 (2008)

First up we have ‘Girls in White Dresses’ which is one of those festivals of testosterone where a poor Mexican town has to get some violent gringos in to sort out their problems. This kill riff goes back at least to The Magnificent Seven (1960), maybe further. (I don’t really have time to look into the tenacity of the “America as Saviour of Mexico” genre. But I do know it was done best in The Three Amigos (1986)) In this case of course the Mexican town in question requires the help of a singular gringo, Frank Castle. Frank doesn’t need six companions, because friends are for the weak. More like the Feeble Seven, eh Frank? Frank Castle just needs to know two things: where the bad guys are and what’s the name for that depression between your nose and top lip. Keeps him awake at nights that does. That and the memory of his dead wife and kids. (It’s the philtrum, Frank. Sleep that bit easier now, old warrior.)

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Campbell, Hurwitz, Loughridge & Petit

It’s full of the usual butch silliness right from the start, like the way Frank spots his tail because he is wearing a big cowboy hat. (So if you ever do tail a psychotic ex-‘Nam mass murderer, a big cowboy hat might not be the best headgear to go with. Every day is a school day.) Also nice was the way Frank reins himself in from killing the tail because under the hat is an old man. Old men are of course completely harmless. I guess Hurwitz has never seen The Wild Bunch (1969), Bubba Ho-Tep (2002) or ever been in the vicinity of Pappy Kane when he’s that way out. It’s good that Frank stays his hand because then el anciano is able to petition him for aid and thus the comic doesn’t end suddenly. For as is traditional in the America-Helps-the-Mexicans genre the village has scraped together less than you spent on an iPad to sweeten the pot; those poor backward fools never realise that Americans will help Mexico because Americans are Awesome, rather than for the paltry financial reward on offer. After all America is Mexico’s friend; well, except for that time it just up and stole Texas, and that whole Wall business and the way it is constantly interfering with “observers”, and the way it never actually helps in any constructive way whatsoever…other than that though, America wuvs Mexico so very, very much. Unmoved by the financial lure Frank says no, because it’d spoil the suspense for when he appears later to help them despite having said no. Because I know I for one was honestly expecting the next three issue to show the drug traffickers riding roughshod over the community with the odd cutaway to Frank shining his shoes or searching NETflix for something to watch (Housebound (2014) is fun, Frank) or rollerblading in denim cut-offs. Whatever took his fancy really.

So Frank turns up and kills everyone who is bad. THE END.

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Campbell, Hurwitz, Loughridge & Petit

Okay there’s a bit more to it than that. Hurwitz takes a thoroughly well-worn set up and chucks in some grisly bits to give it some oomph. Among the gruesome touches on show are the fact that  the women kidnaped by the drug traffickers are being returned stitched up like knock off teddies, Frank has to dig up a kid’s corpse and then dig a bullet out of said dead kid (which was particularly nice) and there’s a simply darling bit of business involving a pet shark. (Yes, a pet shark.) Unfortunately all that good work is slightly undermined by a few tricks nicked from substandard action flicks. It’s possible that on screen Frank’s charge through multiple sheets of drug glazing would work, but on the page it’s a bit listless. (But Campbell nearly makes it work visually, to be fair) And you’d have to be fourteen and merry on cheap cider to take the old throw-a-roll-of-coins-at-the-crane’s-controls-to-drop-a-heavy-thing-on-the-bad-guys bit seriously. It’s a bit too sub-Seagal to play is that part. However, there’s been some research done; or at least I think there has, I’m not going to check but apparently cat litter is used in the production of narcotics (and also for cats to do their cat business in, if the bad guys have an actual cat) and manufacturing narcotics is bad on your eyes and lungs. (Seriously the working conditions are appalling, someone should make it illegal.)

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Campbell, Hurwitz, Loughridge & Petit

Oh, and in a weird sop to normal Punisher continuity it turns out that the Big Bad is Jigsaw. Jigsaw is Frank’s only(?) recurring villain because Frank is tough on his villains. I find Jigsaw a bit dull, personally. Jigsaw’s big thing is Frank fucked his face up.  Other than that he’s just a bad man. Bit of a nutter to boot (i.e. his Jigsaw has some pieces missing!) This being MAX Jigster’s also a bit rapey, but mainly he’s just a “bad hombre” as your PoTUS might have it. There’s a lot of build up as to who the Big Bad will be and the payoff is dependent on visual punch, which is unfortunate as Campbell’s splash page reveal is of a man leaning over a desk with what looks like a sooty face. I thought it was maybe a new villain, “Sooty Face”, but no they were scars and it was just Jigsaw.  Which is a problem with Campbell’s approach to art. Drawing over photo reference is all special and modern and that, but scars deform the surface of the skin around them; they aren’t just straight lines laid over a face. You can get away with drawing straight lines on a face if you are drawing everything from the ground up, because everything is obeying the same inherent visual laws, but just scribbling on someone’s face makes it look like someone has a face that’s been scribbled on, like they fell asleep during a frat party or something.  But Campbell does do pretty well overall, even though his approach is not my favourite technique. He certainly knows how to balance his panels, which is super-important if you’re going to rely on the landscape format (see also: Goran Parlov). There’s some nice stuff going on, and the page where Frank is hidden in the patterns of a bush like a malevolent optical illusion is pretty great. And even a colour dunce like myself can tell that Loughridge knows when and how to make things pop. Both here and in Welcome To The Bayou Loughridge artfully displays the blunt impact of the solid red backround beautifully. Girls In White Dresses is GOOD! But really, for the price of the TPB you could probably pick up Don Winslow’s Power of The Dog and The Cartel, which together do the whole America/Mexico drug thing but with the sweep of Ellroy’s American Tabloid while also managing to mix in some historical veracity along with the pantomime machismo.

SIX HOURS TO KILL PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX (AKA PUNISHER AKA PUNISHERMAX) #66-70 Art by Michel Lacombe Written by Duane Swierczynski Coloured by Val Staples Lettered by VC's Cory Pettit Covers by Dave Johnson The Punisher created by John Romita Snr, Ross Andru & Gerry Conway Marvel©™®, $3.99 (2009)

Here we have Frank plugged into the Race Against Time trope. Children will be familiar with this from the timeless Crank sequence of movies (Crank (2006), Crank 2: Crankier (2009) and Crank 3: Crankiest (in production)), adults will know it from Speed (1994) and Speed 2: Cruise Liners Aren’t Very Fast (1997) and the elderly will, after much prompting, recall DOA (1950; remade 1988). I  Imagine it was meant to be a very cinematic outing this one, but as is usual with such comics it just made me want to go on an outing to the cinema.  I guess Swierczynski panicked a bit because it’s far too overstuffed for the simple premise. And such premises thrive on simplicity. Consequently what should zip swiftly along kind of lumbers stolidly towards a not entirely convincing denouement. (I have always wanted to use the word “denouement”; I can die happy now.)

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Lacombe, Swierczynski, Staples & Petit

A quick peek behind The Wizard’s Curtain: I don’t tend to write these things with the actual comics to hand; I have to snatch time where and when I can and smoosh it all together later, hoping I pick up on repetitions and inaccuracies. And to be quite frank (hohoho) I’m struggling to remember the intricacies of this particular plot.  Start the clock and let's go: There’s a mayor whose future is threatened because his cousin in law has been running a kids home as a paedo pick’n’mix (and this shows how long ago this comic was written; today politicians can set kids on fire in full public view and then mount the still twitching corpse and people will just shrug and say, yeah, but, immigrants, yeah but, dole scroungers, yeah but, my house isn’t on fire, yeah, but Gogglebox is on, yeah? Remember when politicians used to resign? When was the last time a politician resigned?  About an hour ago should be the right answer, but it isn’t.  Whatever happened to accountability? Oh, John! You’re such an old-fashioned chap! Get on your penny farthing, granddad, and fuck off back to the past!) Er, so some rich dude who is in the mayor’s pocket (or who has the mayor in his pocket) decides to off the mayor to avoid being torpedoed with him, and he chooses to use Frank Castle, so that no one else gets covered in shit when the mayor goes down.

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Lacombe, Swierczynski, Staples & Petit

So there’s this rich dude, his sex addled sister, a brain wrecked ‘Nam vet cum-politico and a techy geek who injects Frank with a drug which will kill him in six hours - unless he offs the mayor there’s no antidote for Frank. Then, amusingly, Frank immediately goes off message and tries to maximise his kills given his time limit and the amount of ground he can cover in that time.  That was genuinely pretty funny and really caught the monomania of the character. Almost funny enough in fact to distract from the fact that if they’d just let Frank know the mayor was up to his nuts in kiddie fiddling then Frank would have given them a freebie, you know, without all the magic drug farting about. Anyway, then there are these ex-cops who pretend to be real cops so they can off Frank (because Frank doesn’t kill cops) but Frank senses they are not real cops, but, wait, there are also real cops after Frank, and so Frank has to stop these cops dying when they get caught in the crossfire with the fake cops or it might be some angry gangbangers. I can’t really remember, but there were...shriners? And maybe some put-out girl scouts, and maybe some Japanese soldiers who had been hiding in a hot dog stand in Times Square unaware the war had ended? It’s all gets a bit silly. Yeah, I know it's The Punisher, but there's silly and then there's just silly. And this ends up just silly. Just that bit too goofy for me, I guess. Lacombe does well though, given the overly large cast there's a total lack of confusion, and he handles the set pieces well; they have a real sense of space and an admirable clarity of staging. The only real clanger is when people have multiple facial contusions it looks more like they are sporting a tasty crop of boils. It's a pretty good art job though, not unreminiscent of Cannon and Ha's work on Alan Moore's Top Ten. But, you know, with a shit ton more violence and implied fellatio. Aw, it was OKAY!

WELCOME TO THE BAYOU PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX (AKA PUNISHER AKA PUNISHERMAX) #71-74 Art by Goran Parlov Written by Victor Gischler Coloured by Lee Loughridge Lettered by VC's Cory Pettit Covers by Dave Johnson The Punisher created by John Romita Snr, Ross Andru & Gerry Conway Marvel©™®, $3.99 each (2009)

This one is just junk. Unapologetic trash.  Just...trash. It’s great. Basically, and I do mean basically, it involves Frank wandering into a ridiculous Frankensteinian patchwork of grindhouse horror movies. There’s a bunch of spring breakers who make a fateful pit stop , a cannibalistic family , a giant gator, a deformed nutter in bib overalls with a sack on his head, bbq cannibalism and probably a whole bunch more of such sophisticated cinematic concoctions I failed to pick up on. It’s not exactly spiritually enriching stuff. In short it’s trash as I said above. Crucially, though, it’s well done trash. Sure there’s much flagrant mugging of other people’s ideas, but it’s so blatant it’s kind of disarming, and they reconfigure everything into at least a semblance of freshness: things take a neat early twist with Frank outclassing his congenitally evil enemies to the extent that expectations become upended, and he seems the monster and they the prey. But sure as eggs is eggs genre will out, and it quickly reverts back to factory settings. It’s brutal, tasteless stuff with a light comedy glazing, all given the appropriate tone of flip goonery by Parlov’s sure handed blend of ludicrousness and realism. Frank himself looks more like a raybanned update of Carl Critchlow’s Thrud The Barbarian than anything that ever drew breath in reality. And the way Parlov controls the pacing and flawlessly connects with the jump scares is evidence of genius at play on the page.  Sure, the outcome of the story might never be in doubt, but Parlov & Gischler consistently give your expectations a good hard Glasgae kiss. Ayup, Frank sure has to jump through some (Tobe) hoop(er)s in this one. Welcome To The Bayou knows what it is and runs headlong with it into a secluded thicket of VERY GOOD!

PUNISHER: FRANK CASTLE MAX by Parlov, Gischler, Loughridge & Petit

Weirdly, despite its obvious borrowings the only movie anyone mentions in the story is Deliverance, which is aiming a bit high since that was written by the poet James Dickey and not, say, Ray Garton. Mind you, despite Deliverance being written by the 18th United States poet Laureate, most people do tend to remember it as just a classy survivalist flick. That’s folk for ya. What a lot of people who’ve seen Deliverance don’t know is that Dickey saw active service in both WW2 and the Korean “Police Action”. Maybe the nascent poet, awaiting his next nightfighter mission, propped his ass on a crate and uncurled a battered paperback of  Punisher-esque he-man nonsense. I like to think so, and I'm sure the current purveyors of he-man nonsense considered above would echo that sentiment.

6) Concluding Remarks:

In the future no matter how advanced we as a species become somewhere there will be a man scratching his ass and smelling his fingers. And there's probably some value in that.

NEXT TIME: Will it be a message from a freshly birthed Socialist Utopia or the same quasi-fascist and morally diseased Selfish State? Either way it'll involve - COMICS!!!

“And I Did What I Do.” COMICS! Sometimes Petey's Right Off His Wheaties!

So, Marvel Universe Versus The Punisher? Pretty self-explanatory I'd have thought. (Abhay's below this one. Go read that!) MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER by Parlov, Maberry, Loughridge & Petit

Anway, this...

MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER Art by Goran Parlov Written by Jonathan Maberry Coloured by Lee Loughridge Lettered by VC's Cory Petit Originally published as MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER #1-4 Marvel, (£4.99, Digital), (2010) The Punisher created by John Romita Snr, Ross Andru & Gerry Conway

“The Last Man Alive Is Not Alone!” hooted the tagline for The Omega Man (1971) and such remains the case in Parlov & Maberry’s spiritual cousin set in the Marvel U. This time out the last man alive isn’t the brawny melancholic Charlton Heston but comics’ favourite armed meltdown Frank Castle, and he has all the ordnance in the world. This is good for Frank because his opponents aren’t a bunch of disgruntled anaemics with flaky faces and frightwigs but your very own childhood favourite superheroes gone cannibal and crazy. The appetites of these long pig crazy super mentals are vast but probably not as vast as the modern appetite for seeing our four colour chums degraded and subjected to the basest of instincts. Which is fine, as long as it’s done well.  Mostly it isn’t, that’s my beef. This stuff appeals to the misanthropic adolescent within us all, and there’s nothing wrong with that. There’s little point railing against the inevitable and inarguable components of human nature. Particularly the shitty bits. After all, if I may mangle Voltaire for a moment, if the misanthropic adolescent within us all didn’t exist then Mark Millar would have had to invent it. We all like to get a little nasty is what I’m getting at. But you’ve got have standards. Because, well, if we don’t have standards, then where are we? Hmm? Hmm? At this point having begun sounding like Richard Liberty losing his mind in Day of The Dead (1985) it can only mean it’s time to segue silkily into the next paragraph. MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER by Parlov, Maberry, Loughridge & Petit

The crux then, as ever, is whatever the comic is, is it done well? Oh, I’m supposed to tell you? Well, okay then, if I must. We all know The Punisher (the man who is to picnics as Thomas Wayne is to shortcuts; comic book dads are a feckless bunch are they not?) and I know I’m familiar enough with the work of Goran Parlov (the master of the Alex Toth and landscape panel one-two punch) for his work to be the reason I bought this book, but I know not of this Jonathan Maberry. So I had a look, and it turns out Jonathan Maberry writes books I don’t read. In a somewhat grudging and definitely perfunctory spirit of fairness I looked at some of the covers. These prominently featured sweaty men with shaved heads and muscles like subcutaneous melons grimacing as they clutched big guns like someone was going to snatch them away and also, zombies. Lots of zombies. The titles were peppered with words such as ghost, blues, dead, moon, bad, kittens, plague, patient, zero etc. like so much butch literary buckshot. It’s a genre unto itself it seems and it’s called Military Horror apparently, and its heavy balls swing deep and low. Or so I’d guess having not read any of it. It’s probably pretty fun stuff; everyone likes reading about ball swingers killing the shit out of shit as the clock ticks down. Even effete old berks like me. And he’s won a few Bram Stoker Awards this Maberry fellow, so, you know, we probably aren’t talking about some ungodly toxic male trash the rapists keep stealing from the prison library. No, that’s the Hugo Awards.

MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER by Parlov, Maberry, Loughridge & Petit

What I’m getting at is I wasn’t expecting much, something for my eyes at least; I can always depend on the pared down but still beefy stylings of Goran Parlov to give me my money’s worth. But as you’ve probably guessed by now, turns out this book’s premise is well within the quarantine area of Jonathan Maberry’s sweet spot of Sweaty Cock Gun Horror. The end result being that not only were my eyes entertained by Parlov’s thrillingly sparse art but Maberry’s darkly fun mangasm of violence engaged my adrenal glands throughout. Which is obvious in retrospect, given his literary oeuvre and the fact that this comic is about comics’ foremost swinger of balls killing the shit out of shit while the clock ticks. And there’s a lot of shit to kill the shit out of this time out. Someone, probably not Voltaire, once said that when seeking revenge one should first dig two graves; in MARVEL UNIVERSE VS PUNISHER they may have underestimated that by about six billion.

MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER by Parlov, Maberry, Loughridge & Petit

Because, right, because thanks to some dude exercising his right to bear arms a little too enthusiastically (Guess who. Go on.) in close proximity to some chemical weapon smugglers the world is now populated for the most part by deranged cannibals, and that includes the super folk. Faced with a world gone wrong Frank decides to kill it. He’s a simple man. Cue up scenes of Frank murderalising all the old favourites, who are now hunched over and drooling with a malignant savagery that seemingly seeks to pander to the worst conceptions of mature super-hero storytelling, but due to an undercurrent of intelligence actually serves to poke deadpan fun at such edgey larks. The danger with such edgey stuff is that it may swiftly misstep into mean-spirited sadism, and the book fails to dodge this danger on a couple of occasions. The worst is when The Invisible Woman suffocates her kids with her force field. Personally (call me old fashioned) but I’m not super into seeing kids killed (that bit took me right out of the trash classic Planet Terror (2007)). I think your work needs to be pretty weighty to pull that stuff off, and I’m pretty certain MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER isn’t in that weight class. Sure, it’s about stuff like redemption, and the price of peace in such a wronged-up world, and contains Frank’s final frank acceptance of his own bleak nature, but that’s genre stuff; the book’s not about enough real stuff or even about genre stuff robust enough to carry a double infanticide.

MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER by Parlov, Maberry, Loughridge & Petit

It’s just a slip though, and all of one panel of a slip at that. But, you know, it really put me off my stroke. In most other places the older-sibling-breaking-all-the-toys vibe works fine, as when The Thing sits on a pile of skulls while super-ladies caress his shingly thighs. That avoids being crass or misogynistic in and of itself because it’s riffing on an image central to a predominantly crass and misogynistic genre. The visual call-back to crass misogyny applied to a big orange lug in the 21st Century is funny, and that humour carries you past the bad taste. I’m not sure who could get real humour out of a woman suffocating her two kids, Todd Solondz maybe, but it isn’t Jonathan Maberry (and it’s a comics challenge I’m content to leave hanging, thanks). In fairness though, Mayberry’s dealing here with tonally tricky stuff; it has to be horrific but humorous, yet one can’t swamp the other. So, I guess the odd slip’s okay. He sure gets Iron Man’s demise just right though. It’s truly horrible and also sickly amusing. A fate worse than death indeed, but probably not a fate worse than having to appear in two books a month written by Brian Bendis. Death would be a kindness. A few stumbles then, but Maberry manages to avoid Millar Syndrome for the most part to provide a playfully appalling take on the Marvel Universe.

MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER by Parlov, Maberry, Loughridge & Petit

It might be catty but I can’t help but suggest it could have done with a tighter editorial rein though, as some of the book seems oddly contradictory. The identity of Patient Zero is played out over more than one issue as being some kind of big deal Mystery Reveal, while in fact the comic has already clearly shown Patient Zero in the first issue. So that’s a bit odd. And I’m pretty sure I’d already seen the head of the actual Real Mystery Reveal sat atop a stake in Frank’s garden. It could have been someone else, I guess, what with the uniqueness of that character kicking in below the neck, so that might be me getting confused. Last week I almost poured milk into the kettle, so anything goes! Just little niggles; on the whole the terse and gruffly streamlined approach works a treat. The spread of the contagion is portrayed in a dismayingly convincing manner and the smackdowns are brutal and inventive. Even Deadpool, who capers about on many of these pages, failed to make me wretch. But it wouldn’t be such a treat without Parlov’s art; his storytelling remains a thrilling enough reason for purchase in and of itself. The staging of the Frank vs. The Hulk sequence is perfection, with the reveal of what Frank’s firing a perfect punchline to the preceding sequence of set-up. The basically ridiculous nonsense is all grounded in an overgrown and rubbly New York confidently evoked by Parlov’s use of familiar landmarks with his noteworthy ability to convey a sense of both space and scale. Although clearly doffing his cap to the disgruntled Master Alex Toth, Parlov seems to push past Toth in one respect at least; his daring quest to see how few lines he can put on the page without them buckling under the weight of the visual information they have to carry. However, as much as I fawn over his work, I do take issue with Parlov’s decision to give Frank a pony tail which undermines him a little, because as we all know under every pony tail is a horse’s ass. Just joking, it was getting a bit dry with all that art stuff. But if you are grown man with a pony tail do feel free to take that seriously. The ‘60s are gone and you blew it, Chester.

MARVEL UNIVERSE VS THE PUNISHER by Parlov, Maberry, Loughridge & Petit

Christ, that’s far too many words for what is essentially THE PUNISHER SHOOTS THE MARVEL UNIVERSE IN THE FACE AND DOESN’T TAKE HIS FINGER OFF THE TRIGGER UNTIL HE JUST HEARS DRY CLICKS. Jonathan Maberry does a good job and Goran Parlov does a better one, so if we add that up, turn around three times, and say the magic word “spangdangler!” we get VERY GOOD! (in terms of craft and entertainment, I stress).

NEXT TIME: Maybe I’ll turn my PENNANCE CRITICAL STARE on Ghost Rider! Maybe I won’t! It’s what’s called a cliff-hanger. They used to have ‘em in – COMICS!!!

"I'm A STUART, Grandpa." COMICS! Sometimes The Weird Porous Kid Walks It!

Here at Savage Towers the UK contingent is experiencing problems with The Haunted Scanner. So, just the covers this time out I'm afraid. Apparently my brain is no longer under warranty so I can't help the words that accompany the pictures. So here's a shoddy make-shift Sunday look at some comics. Or you could go outside and play in the snow!

G.I. COMBAT Featuring The Haunted Tank #7 Haunted Tank by Howard Victor Chaykin (a), Peter J Tomasi (w), Jesus Arbutov (c) and Rob Leigh (l) Unknown Soldier by Staz Johnson (a), Justin Gray & Jimmy Palmiotti (w), Rob Schwager (c) and Rob Leigh (l) DC Comics $3.99 (2011) Haunted Tank created by Russ Heath & Robert Kanigher Unknown Soldier created by Joe Kubert & Robert Kanigher

The lead story here, a lead story about a Haunted Tank we should bear in mind, is a consumate exercise in capturing the gleeful idiocy of DC war comics of yesteryear; that is way back when to the time when Mommy would roll them up and beat me with them. Yes, the day I wrestled that rolled up copy of ALARMING BULLSHIT #235 off her was the day I became a man (i.e. 10 March 2007). Tomasi doesn't blink once as he recounts the tale of a Haunted Tank crewed by a gipper in a string vest and his endearingly credulous Grandson as they go up against a revamped War Wheel piloted by Rommel's grandson and powered by the slack corpus of The Desert Fox himself. It's barmy and all the better for it. HVC seems to have found the perfect home for his clip-art pasting mania with this hardware heavy tale although he doesn't fare as well on the flesh he hardly fails as such, giving The Fox himself a pleasingly senile cast to his confounded features.

Gray and Palmiotti manage the not inconsiderable feat of removing anything of interest from the Unknown Soldier concept, leaving us with some pages where a man falls out of a window and then goes and has sad thoughts in  someone else's garden. They even waste the nonsensical fun of having a diamond laced skeleton. As a result it's purely down to Tomasi and Chaykin's unflinching grasping of the nettle of nonsense that this book is GOOD!

INDESTRUCTIBLE HULK #1 Art by Lenil Francis Yu Written by Mark Waid Coloured by Sunny Gho Lettered by Chris Eliopoulos Marvel, 3.99 (2011) The Hulk created by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee

INDESTRUCTIBLE HULK #2 Art by Lenil Francis Yu & Gerry Alanguilan Written by Mark Waid Coloured by Sunny Gho Lettered by Chris Eliopoulos Marvel, 3.99 (2011) The Hulk created by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee

Yes, I know I shouldn't have this comic due to THE KIRBY IMPERATIVE but my Retailer forgot and so he wanted to share what he thought was a book I might like with me. Which is okay, because I don't actually expect my Retailer to remember all my mad demands and crazy caveats all the time. Most of the time will do. I'm not an animal. So, I ended up with this comic but because of Marvel's double-shipping and the lag in my deliveries I actually ended up with issues 1 & 2. Thus (thus, yet! Oh yes, thus! Smell my formal indignation!) a simple error sparked by generous intentions ended up costing me £5.98 and taking up space in my package that two comics I actually wanted might have occupied. This is the hidden damage of Marvel's double-shipping! I now want even less to do with Marvel than ever and I wasn't exactly mad-keen on them at this stage anyway.

But stupid English dude, double-shipping is just giving you more of what you like, I hear the less polite mutter. No, not really. Even if it was DAREDEVIL which I do like. For a start you aren't giving me anything. I'm paying for it. Secondly, I've seen Theatre of Blood and I do not want to be in the Robert Morley role while Marvel acts like Vincent Price and bakes my beloved (dogs/comics) in a pie and forces them down my throat with a plunger until I suffocate. Some of the classier of you might want to recast that thought in terms of Titus Andronicus, but I'm okay with Theatre of Blood.

This book was OKAY! Mark Waid is a reliable writing guy and Leinil Yu is still okay even if I think he needs to step back from the fussiness into the alcove of clarity. But it was $3.99 and even without THE KIRBY IMPERATIVE that's too much a month and with double shipping it would be $7.98 a month, maybe more. That's just nuts.

FURY MAX #7 Art by Goran Parlov Written by Garth Ennis Coloured by Lee Loughridge Lettered by Rob Steen Marvel, $3.99 (2011) Nick Fury created by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee Frank Castle (The Punisher)created by John romita Snr, Ross Andru & Gerry Conway

Originally I was overriding the KIRBY DIRECTIVE as this was such a VERY GOOD! comic and, more importantly, I am a weak creature always on the lookout for an out. As if to rub my smug face in my own moral doo-doo the quality of the comic seems to have taken a sudden lurch from Ellroy-lite into those issues of THE 'NAM where Frank Castle got introduced to boost sales. Quite a few people fondly recall THE 'NAM (i.e. the comic not the land war in South East Asia. Although I suppose it might have its fans too, human nature being what it is.) but I have never read anyone fondly recall the issues of THE 'NAM where Frank Castle started popping up. Also, I have decided to send the CBLDF the equivalent total monies this comic will end up costing me. Hopefully this combination of unmet expectations and financial excess will encourage me to actually be a man of my word. Then I will really get my Smug on, you betcha!

Goran Parlov's art is still staggering this time out with even the talking heads sections being just as entertaining as the slobberknockers in most other comics. There's an absolutely fantastic panel where Fury is giving Ms DeFabio a Cage-ing. It isn't fantastic for the contents but it is fantastic in that it has clearly been enlarged to make the occurrences within less, ahem, overt. This is a series that clearly, frequently and savagely depicts the effects of violence on large numbers of people, but apparently it still has trouble with a bit of bum fun. Marvel MAX comics - where there are no limits, except when there are! Despite all this it's still a VERY GOOD! comic.

SPONGEBOB COMICS #13 Art by Rick Altergott, Vince DePorter, Nate Neal, James Kochalka, Derek Drymon, Stephen R. Bissette, Rementer, Tony Millionaire, Jacob Chabot, Al Jaffee Written by Chris Duffy, David Lewman, Maris Wicks, James Kochalka, Derek Drymon, Roman, Robert Leighton, Chris Yambar Coloured by Molly Dolben, Cat Garza, Monica Kubina, James Campbell, HiFi Lettered by Comicraft United Plankton Pictures, $2.99 (2011) Spongebob Squarepants created by Stephen Hillenburg

The Kid recently discovered Spongebob Squarepants on that televisual device that's sweeping the nation by storm and so I ordered this. Mostly to make up for all the parenting mistakes I make on a daily basis. Yes, he may end up hating me but he'll hate me less because I bought him a comic, I reasoned. And reasoned well. Being familiar with kid's spin off comics I braced myself for a tie-in comic which was so lacking in care or effort it would probably not even have the creators credited, it might even just consist of screen captures like that shitty Marvel digest of the ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN show, whatever it was it would probably not be worth a second thought by anyone over the age of 7.

Once again proving how right I always am it turned out to be VERY GOOD!

I mean, look at that roster up there! I'm not listing all the names again (it's cold here and I'm a martyr to The Arthritis) but right here on these pages we've got the guys who did Doofus, Tyrant!, Sock Monkey, SuperF*ckers and all those crazy MAD fold-in things. Other people too, but I'm not familiar with them but they don't disappoint either. I guess the highlight is the Mermaid Man strip in which Steve Bissette basically draws a Nick Cardy era Aquaman strip and Derek Drymon has Spongebob draw himself into it. Like many a bored child has done in reality. It's sweet and clever and is surrounded by strips of equal or only slightly lesser worth. It's a crazy good line up producing crazy good comics and I wish The Haunted Scanner was working because then I could show you. But then again, maybe it's better if you just go and buy an issue of SPONGEBOB COMICS. You might be disappointed but with all the talent and invention on show here that's probably going to be all your own fault.

And I'm gone like Fury's eye but there remain  - COMICS!!!

"A Moi La Légion!" COMICS! Sometimes I Have Too Much Sun!

Greetings! It has been sunny in England for more than three consecutive days. This means that the entire nation is required by Law to sit outside until their skins glow like pink suns and crack like dry riverbeds in Texan heat. So I have been doing that. This means I didn't read many comics and when I wrote about them the fact that my brain had been lightly boiled in its own juices didn't seem to have a beneficial effect on my thought processes or judgement. But, hey, I made my deadline! I made it, Ma! I'm a hack!

FURYMAX #2 Art by Goran Parlov Written by Garth Ennis Coloured by Lee Loughridge Lettered by Rob Steen Marvel, $3.99 (2012) Nick Fury created by Jack Kirby AND Stan Lee

Imagine my delight upon opening the latest issue of this fine comic to find an act of recreational physical pleasure being performed by Nick Fury and Ms. DeFabio. No, not because I have always wanted to see Kirby/Lee characters nut deep in the fun patch, no. (Well, Lockjaw maybe but that’s a personal thing.) No, it’s the fact that the act is presented so matter of factly. Almost as though it is just a part of life; one of those things adults do from time to time, these days mostly when they lose their broadband service and the TV is simultaneously on the fritz. In fact I can assure you I am not idly boasting when I say that even I , the misanthrope's misanthrope, have in fact personally heard of people in real life who have encountered a real life lady in such close quarters; which is to say even closer quarters than Nick & Co. encounter the ‘Cong in this comic. For one moment I thought mainstream genre comics had, in actual fact as opposed to the popular fiction entertained by most fans, grown up. A bit. Then I remembered it was a MAX comic and so that was okay as the regular line of comics would continue to be as ridiculous in their depiction of recreational procreation as ever.

Seriously, how bizarre must the depiction of something in regular life be if  its depiction in a Garth Ennis war comic is actually a healthier alternative. Focusing on that aspect, as for some inexplicable reason I have, does Ennis' work on this comic a disservice as it is so well realised by all the involved personnel that its level of focus brings to mind a close up of a sniper's eye as the unseen finger exerts the required pressure to do the necessary. It's one well honed machine is what I'm saying. This week, because this book appears to be weekly for some arbitrary reason, Goran Parlov knocks my socks off on the several occasions when he draws the Nazi bastard’s head as just a collection of lines held together by Lee Loughridge’s ever-excellent colours. Giving us a glimpse into a horrific world where Pig Pen grew up and joined The Hitler Youth. To speak plainly then, I thought FURYMAX#2 was VERY GOOD!

THE SHADOW #2 Art by Aaron Campbell Written by Garth Ennis Coloured by Carlos Lopez Lettered by Rob Steen Dynamite, $3.99 (2012) The Shadow created by Walter B. Gibson

As is customary, and contrary to my therapist’s advice, I shall now devote more time to the cover by Howard Victor Chaykin than the book it adorns. It’s a pretty swell cover, yes it is. The elegant simplicity of its design elements is foremost amongst its pleasures but only because the cheekiness of anchoring it all on The Shadow’s torso (which is little more than an oblong) is, let’s face it, the kind of thing only people who should really stop harassing aged Jewish comics creators when they go for a jog on the beach are going to give a gefilte fish about. I’d plump for Arbutov on colours rather than Delgado because it’s less an attack on visual sense and more of an attempt to attractively enhance the base image. But, this being Dynamite the colour of your cover is not a fixed thing! You can have a “Bloody Red” Retailer Incentive Cover (red and white!) or the Dynamic Forces Exclusive Howard Chaykin cover (black and white!). I hope these are all in the TPB because I would actually have an interest in seeing the image without colour, but that’s because I am a Chaykinmaniac. Otherwise I am just totally flummoxed by the need for all these covers. There are another 7 of them! The Ryan Sook one looks lovely by the way.

Eventually, sated, I looked at the actual comic. Ennis’ script this time out is pretty great. It’s basically an extended action sequence inventively choreographed within the confines of a Pan Am clipper intercut with exposition largely designed to demonstrate the evil of the opposition (kiddy fiddler ahoy!). I can’t fault the writer's execution of the script or the savagery of the violence (injury to eye is just the hors d’ouvres, darling!) but it impresses only despite some serious fumbling of the ball on Campbell’s part. I’ll not dwell on it too much as, after all, the art turns up and does the job; albeit with all the fiery invention of a Council employee during the week before his pension finally kicks in. Also, Megalophobics are hereby duly warned to stay away from the hilariously outsize hat which dominates the last panel. Still, Ennis’ script is so solid the comic remains GOOD!

MIND MGMT #1 By Matt Kindt Dark Horse, $3.99 (2012)

In this comic's after-piece Matt Kindt runs the old I Want This Periodical To Work As A Periodical schtick. Y’know the one; the one about extras unique to the pamphlet (or FLOPPY!(cue Brian Hibbs rearing back like Christopher Lee before Pter Cushing's crossed candlesticks. Hsssss!)) which will enhance and entertain, yes, that one. I think he’s actually serious about it, too. That's on the evidence of the first issue of what future generations will call “that book Matt Kindt did no one bought” (but we will call MIND MGMT). I mean, only time will tell but I doubt this is going to take the form of backmatter telling us how his movie deals are progressing (Matt Kindt hasn't got any. Yet.), how hard life is for the talented and beautiful (my heart; it bleeds), a telephone book size list of all the awful comics he has in print (because Matt Kindt doesn't do awful comics. Ever. Fact.). Not that anyone else does that, but I severely doubt Matt Kindt will. The clue is in the comic itself.

Every page of this comic is the comic. The inside front and back covers are a short prologue to the book itself, the back cover is an advertisement that is in fact not an advertisement, text crawls up the side and across the page margins (a la ADVENTURE TIME) adding colour and background to the concept in a dryly humourous faux-bureaucratic way, there’s a short backup piece not intended for the TPB which ends with a six panel sequence so awesome that you know right then and there that MIND MGMT is the one. MIND MGMT is the one. MIND MGMT is the one where Matt Kindt arrives. This is Matt Kindt’s AMERICAN FLAGG! moment. This is where Matt Kindt turns up says, hey, this is what I do and this is the way I do it and you, well, you just deal with it! Matt Kindt just slapped his big talented balls on the table and now you either walk away or you just deal with it. MIND MGMT is odd but EXCELLENT! Deal with it!

And then I saw sense and decided my time, and yours would be better utilised if I wandered off to flick lima beans at next door's koi carp.

Hope you had a good weekend with some COMICS!!!

NEXT TIME: Something else!

"It Is Not The FIRST TIME This Has Happened." COMICS! Sometimes They Are Hot Off The Griddle!

Hey old people, remember Sunday evening when you were a kid?:

Urrrrrhhhh! Let's take the Sunday Blues away with some piffle about our four colour floppy friends! COMICS!!!

SUPREME #64 Art by Erik Larsen & Cory Hamscher Written by Erik Larsen Coloured by Steve Oliff Lettered by Chris Eliopoulos Image Comics, $2.99 (2012) Supreme created by Rob Liefeld

Hu-ooFF! Well, that was horrible. As a comic, I mean. Look, I don't have a problem with a change in direction and it's a little soon to tell if I have a problem with this particular change in direction, but I have a problem with a bad comic which this was. Just page after page of people dying, things falling over, plenty of, as my son would say, "'splodin'!!!". I hate to break thi sto everyone but that's not actually a story as such. Sigh. I don't have much familiarity with Erik Larsen's work (the '90s? Not really my best time for comics)  so I'm not counting him out yet. Yeah, maybe Erik Larsen can swing this one around. I'll give him a couple more issues to do so. Turns out I'm that close to generous but this issue was pretty EH!

Reckon them's fightin' words and wanna show me just how wrong I am? Well, you can buy this exact comic from  HERE!

FURY MAX #1 Art by Goran Parlov Written by Garth Ennis Coloured by Lee Loughridge Lettering by Rob Steen Marvel,$3.99 (2012) Nick Fury created by Jack Kirby with Stan Lee

I don't know what they are feeding Garth Ennis on these days but the comics he's producing would be Type 3 or 4 on The Bristol Stool Scale; this being as we all know optimal. In a worrying state of affairs Ennis has now produced two comics (see last week's THE SHADOW) which are set in  convincing historical settings, peopled by satisfyingly sketched characters and which succeed in being both informative and entertaining. Which is why I had to bring my own shit joke to the party lest his regular, heh, audience feel at at a loss. Taking the first chapter's title from TheThe softened my hardened heart but going on to deliver an intelligent, amusing and diverting comic  is what really sealed the deal here.

Ennis is helped no end by the astonishing art of Goran Parlov. Goran Parlov is the kind of artistic wonder who can limit himself, largely, to the most banal of page layouts without inspiring new lows of tedium in my mind. He can do this because everything he puts in those panels is just right. It doesn't hurt that his present day Fury looks  so gnarled and battered he resembles 19th Century armoire smoking a cigar while clad in plaid slippers and a fluffy robe. Yeah, this was VERY GOOD!

(Yes, I am aware Nick Fury was created by Jack Kirby with Stan Lee and that I said I wasn't going to purchase any more Marvel products which failed to acknowledge the contributions of The King.  Either my LCS forgot or decided that my professed liking for Garth Ennis' non puerile work and Goran Parlov's anything superceded this. Okay? Either way I got a good comic and I still think it could have had the words "created by Jack Kirby and Stan Lee" on it without upsetting the balance of Life itself.)

TRIO#1 Written and Drawn by John Byrne Coloured by Ronda Pattison Lettered by Robbie Robbins IDW, $3.99 (2012) Trio created by John Byrne

Mark the time. The super-hero funnybook is dead. I'm surprised to find John Byrne's DNA on the corpse but then it's always the ones that love hardest that end up hating enough to kill. I'm a bit sore because I lost my shirt on this one; my money was on one of the TV Breed. One of those guys who just keep parping it out until the comics cognoscenti just give in and allow quantity to supercede quality. Yeah, I figured the smoking gun would be in the clammy hands of  one of those guys with all the imagination of an empty cardboard box, one of the dialogue guys, one of the post-it notes and flow-chart guys, y'know, the sophisticated guys. But like the most surprising game of Comics Cluedo ever, in the end it was John Byrne in the LCS with The Fantastic Faux. A super team of characters called "One", "Two" and "Three" could only mean one thing; the death of imagination.

But look, in his defence, no one loved the super-hero funny book as much as John Byrne. He loved it so much he hid it away and protected it from reality. Up there in the big house with the pool. Pretending nothing had changed and if it had, well, it wouldn't last. See, John Byrne knows super hero comics are still big it's just the audience that got small. You just have to give 'em comics like back when they loved them. Back in the '80s. The magical hey-day of ALPHA FLIGHT! This isn't a comeback it's a return, it's the return of cape comics, the return of the way they should be done, the return of the way they were done when they were done right.  It's the return of an '80s issue of ALPHA FLIGHT. Sure, it's the best issue of '80s ALPHA FLIGHT ever published but it's still just an '80s issue of ALPHA FLIGHT. It's now 2012. Here's the corpse of super-hero comics now, caked in make-up, going on eighty trying to pass for eighteen. Nothing sadder. Sure, it may be EH! but they'll love it in Pomona.

You can prove the audience for this comic didn't leave twenty years ago by buying it from HERE!!!

FATALE #5 Art by Sean Phillips Written by Ed Brubaker Coloured by Dave Stewart Image Comics, $3.50 (2012) Fatale created by Ed Brubaker and Sean Phillips

Well, I gave it 5 issues and I was hoping this one would turn it around. It didn't. A spooky rinser, people in hats swearing and a demon who can come back from the dead but can't bring back his eyes. I guess you could say it was a bit like James Ellroy meets H.P. Lovecraft, y'know, if they'd both had flu at the time, or you'd only seen the covers of their books, or you had in fact never actually read them just read about them. In the end FATALE pretty much ended up being the John Byrne's TRIO of independent creator-owned comics. Familiar stuff delivered familiarly; that's not going to make me run about like my underpants are on fire no matter who is involved. Sure, I'm all for Team Independent but not if they are as bland as the alternative. Being creator owned is a magical thing but for a reader comics still have to be better than EH!

Possibly not the most popular opinion regarding this comic book! Why not make up your own mind by purchasing if from HERE!

MUDMAN #3 Written and Drawn by Paul Grist Coloured by Bill Crabtree Image Comics, $3.50 (2012) Mudman created by Paul Grist

Wait! I'm getting a pulse! turns out the cape comic isn't dead after all, it just has to keep up with the times is all. This one's about a normal kid in a timelessly sleepy English seaside town who is, through events and stuff ,suddenly not normal in a way that involves mud and being a man made thereof. It's got a breezy lightness of tone that might work against it; sometimes it seems not a lot has happened but really quite a lot has. As Owen Craig (Mud Man when he's not Mud Man) finds his powers have opened up new possibilities for him physically the environment around him seems to change in concert. Using the fixed point of Owen's discoveries as the present Grist fills in the Past and hints at the Future while parts of each encroach on Owen's life and, as is generally the way of things, threaten it.

Grist is really good at keeping the tone light while at the same time giving the threats real weight.  He also excels at teasing about future developments; so much so that the next issue just can't get here quick enough. But what Grist is best at is storytelling; in the words and pictures sense, natch, this being a comical periodical and all. He may be a bit too good at it because reading the comic is so effortless, practically intuitive, that it's quite likely the reader might forget to credit the incredible talents and the deft wielding of same that made it so. From soup to nuts, from top to tail, from mud to man MUD MAN is VERY GOOD!

Or is it? Find out by buying it from HERE!!!

And we're done. If you're going to hang about don't forget to lock up and put the key back through the letterbox.

Have a good weekend and always remember COMICS!!!