"I Have No Interest In Pleasure." COMICS! Sometimes They Make Jurassic Park Look Like Flamingo Land!

So while I was musing, as is my wont, upon THE LAST AMERICAN it occurred to me that it could also be read as a riposte to another strip involving a trek across a post-nuke landscape. One Wagner was also involved in, but which was driven mainly by Pat Mills. The difference between the two approaches is telling. But I don't tell you about that, instead I just ramble aimlessly in my irritatingly hyperbolic style. It's “An Impossible Journey Through a Radioactive Hell...” It's “The Cursed Earth”! JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by McMahon & Mills

Anyway, this...

JUDGE DREDD: THE MEGA COLLECTION Vol. 32: THE CURSED EARTH Art by Mick McMahon, Brian Bolland (Dave Gibbons inks one episode) and John Higgins Written by Pat Mills, John Wagner, Chris Lowder and Alan Grant Lettered by Tom Frame, Peter Knight and John Aldrich Originally serialised in 2000AD Progs61-85 & JUDGE DREDD ANNUAL 1988. © 1978, 1987 & 2015 Rebellion A/S Hatchette Partworks/Rebellion, £9.99 (2015) JUDGE DREDD created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner

“The Cursed Earth” started in Prog 61 of 2000AD and is when Judge Dredd, for me (yes, it’s all about me!), became not just one more very good thing about 2000AD, but the very best thing about 2000AD. Pat Mills seizes the reins, with an assist from John Wagner & Chris Lowder, and starts hacking all the ballast from Dredd’s first appearance (in Prog 2) back to the raw necessities, and there’s a marked emphasis on cohesion of backstory. The first shaky steps on this road had been made in the “Robot Wars” and “Luna-1” extended story lines, but it’s “The Cursed Earth” where things really start to click into place and the mythological underpinnings really lend the strip its own unique flavour. Basically Judge Dredd starts to feel a lot less like Dirty Harry in the future and a lot more like its own crazysexy thing.  In these 21(*) episodes (each roughly 7 pages in length) the strip savagely shears off the generic elements and imprints the series with the signature super-satirical lunacy, mega violent mayhem and boundless imagination which will propel it through to 2017.  Also, it’s also a fuck ton of fun.

JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by McMahon, Mills & Frame

Oh, it’s still a work in progress and there’s still some pruning to be done; witness the first episode, set in 2100AD, when Dredd’s old friend, Red, a space pilot returns from a plague ridden Mega City Two with a desperate plea for help. In hindsight not only is it unlikely Dredd would have a friend who was not a Judge, the idea of Dredd having friends of any description seems to soften the character to almost Mr Tumble proportions. Dredd comes off as strangely naïve throughout; quick to recognise the decency in radlanders (“I guess all mutants AREN'T crazy and evil...”) and often appalled by the depths people sink to (At one point he even writes “SOMETIMES THE HUMAN RACE MAKES ME SICK!” in his notebook in block CAPS with underlining, like a disillusioned adolescent. Not quite the stony faced arbiter of authoritarianism we will all come to both fear and pity. But then this is mostly Pat Mills' baby and so it is a heady blend of shrieking polemic and apocalyptic violence, events are so awesomely unhinged the characters have to shout their way through them as though they can't believe what's happening either (“THE BRUTE'S TRYING TO EAT THE KILL-DOZER!”) Chris Lowdner would be lost to the mists of time and John Wagner would cover himself in glory hereafter but “The Cursed Earth” is very much a Pat Mills strip. On the upside, for those who find Mills too antagonistically blunt, there’s a dizzying explosion of world building on show.  Mega City Two is first mentioned here, and expands Dredd’s world considerably, being a West coast equivalent of Mega City One. Well, at least it is until 2114AD when it is nuked to ash during the “Day of Judgement” epic. Fourteen years earlier though, in order to prevent the whole of Mega City 2 devolving into feral cannibals Dredd will have to deliver an antidote to the 2T(FRU)T (that’s right, “oh Rudy!”) virus by crossing “over a thousand miles of hostile radioactive desert!” The Cursed Earth! which is named here for the first time.

JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by McMahon, Mills & Frame

The mind thrashingly bizarre encounters include The Last President of America, Robert “Smooth” Booth, (affording us our first glimpse of how the Judges came to power), escaped genetically engineered dinosaurs (linking Judge Dredd to “FLESH!” (AKA  “The Best Comic Strip Ever!”; thus spaketh the sage  John Kane (age 7)), masses of mutants both good and bad (which will provide much grist to the strip’s mill in the decades ahead) and the war droid survivors of The Battle of Armageddon (2071AD). (These last and the dinosaurs will also be linked by Pat Mills later to his ABC Warriors strip, which will itself become linked to “Invasion: 1999” etc etc etc) And that’s just the continuity stuff I can remember. Then there’s  the crazytown who make sacrifices to flying rats, Mount Rushmore with a special addition, the mutant slavers, the Las Vegas mafia Judges, sad faced telekinetic Novar and his spindly metal tree, Tweek the rock eating alien who is more human than the humans who degrade him, and I know I already mentioned the dinosaurs, but I did not specifically mention SATANUS, THE SON OF OLD ONE-EYE! And I don’t think it’s possible to mention rampaging genetically engineered dinosaurs too much. SATANUS! SATANUS! Rah! Rah! Rah! Cough, uh, anyway Dredd’s band is hassled by that eyeboggling lot as they cross The Cursed Earth. Oh, they have to go by land, see, because the cannibals have taken over the spaceports, or there are “death belts” of rocks in the air which are never ever mentioned again, or both; I can’t recall. It doesn’t matter. No one said it was drum tight stuff. It’s 1978! Just go with it. Dredd soon crews up, gears up and sets off into one of the most entertaining uses humanity has ever put paper and ink to - “The Cursed Earth”. You think I’m exaggerating? It’s drawn by Mike McMahon and Brian Bolland.

JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by Bolland, Mills & Frame

Dredd and his team of elite Judges (Gradgrind, Patton and, uh, Jack) are accompanied by Spikes Harvey Rotten and some war droids aboard the Modular Fighting Unit. Continuity is bolstered by the return of Judge Jack from “Robot Wars”, and Spikes Harvey Rotten, who is drawn here by McMahon completely differently from Bolland’s original in “Death Race 5000” (but Bolland here gamely follows McMahon’s lead). The names of Dredd’s compadres are a nice touch too, adding another level of fun to the proceedings. Judge Gradgrind recalls Charles Dickens’ character Thomas Gradgrind (from HARD TIMES (1854) and whose surname has become a byword for hard hearted philistinism); Judge Patton is named after the flinty WW2 U.S. General, as famous for slapping a wounded soldier as for his nickname of “Old Blood and Guts” (which also foreshadows “Old Blood and Nuts” who crops up later); and Judge Jack is called that because that’s what he was called last time. Mills often has fun with names, witness also Judge Fodder who lives up to his jokily obvious name in short order (“AAAGH!!”).

JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by Bolland, Mills & Frame

You might think that that stuff might be above most 8 year olds and you wouldn’t be wrong, but since it’s 2017 and we’re still here talking about a comic from 1978, I will stand by my belief that it’s always better to write up to than to write down to your audience. Essentially though, the primary audience in 1978 was most definitely kids, so it was a smart move to base the Modular Fighting Unit on the MATCHBOX ADVENTURE 2000, K-2001, "COMMAND RAIDER" toy. Also, having a physical reference would have helped keep McMahon and Bolland on-model, because stylistically those two were/are apples and oranges, Ditko and Kirby, ham and eggs, Hammerstein and Ro-Jaws, Bogie and Bacall, uh, pretty different but both great, yeah? And a bit of visual consistency never hurts. Lest we forget each of these episodes originally  appeared weekly, so it’s no surprise that McMahon shoulders most of the burden since Bolland’s never really been built for speed. His art may be a crisper, cleaner and altogether more elegant affair, but it’s little Micky whose scruffy bursts of inky mania prove a far better fit.

JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by McMahon, Mills & Aldrich

Back in 1978 Bolland’s the better draughtsman, but his Cursed Earth is a tad too antiseptic. That alien slaver might have a nose festooned with boils but it still looks like you could eat your dinner off 'em. It’s attractive stuff artistically speaking and Bolland’s astonishingly accomplished even at this early stage but Mike McMahon? Look, Bolland is beautiful, but Micky’s the Man. You wouldn’t even want to eat your dinner off a dinner plate if Mick McMahon (circa ’78) drew it. His art here is just such raw bloody fun and the sheer talent on show is immense. Each of McMahon’s pages is so hectic with incident and so deceptively detailed that in lesser hands they would collapse into eye boggling unintelligibility. The control of flow and density of information is that of a master, but the energy and chutzpah is that of a sugar rushed kid. It’s a killer combo for a strip paced as crazily as Judge Dredd circa ’78. Most comic artists could work a lifetime and never reach this peak, but for little Mick McMahon it was just the start. And the stuff both Bolland and McMahon are called upon to draw is punishing and unrelenting in its demands.

JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by Bolland, Mills & Frame

In 2017 most comics hunger to be TV shows or movies and so the imagination on show is (unconsciously?) limited by implicit budgetary restrictions. Back in 1978 it was understood that comics were movies without budget, and thus there were no limits to the imagination. Back then, basically, Brit comics blew the bloody doors off. Jim Lee would sue for mental cruelty if he had to draw an episode of “The Cursed Earth” in a week. Or even a panel. In one panel McMahon has to draw a T-Rex smashing through a prison wall while all the prisoners react in a fairly understandable fashion. Another finds our T Rex drooling mutilated bodies from its flesh glutted mouth as it rampages about. What? No, not splash pages, panels. About six of those things to a page, each imbued with so much atmosphere you can practically smell the fetid stench of theT-Rex's breath.  It’s a strong style, sure, and it’s not for everyone, which is why in the halls of my mind he will evermore be known as Mike “Mango Chutney” McMahon.

JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by McMahon, Mills & Frame

“The Cursed Earth” is kind of wonky, and lopsided but it is drawn by two All-Time Great artists, and has a narrative festooned with visions of the impossible which sear themselves indelibly into your soul. It would be a stony heart indeed which could be left unmoved. And the bit where Dredd finally staggers into Mega City Two battered, rad-burned, stubborn beyond sanity and still defiant is a comic book moment up there with Spidey and his machinery lifting.“The Cursed Earth” is VERY GOOD!

JUDGE DREDD: LAST OF THE BAD GUYS by Higgins, Wagner, Grant & Frame

The book also contains a later strip from the JUDGE DREDD ANNUAL 1982 by Wagner, Grant & Higgins. “Last of the Bad Guys” is inessential stuff, notable mainly for Higgins' queasy colour scheme and the ability of Wagner and Grant to pad out an idea more suited to 7 pages to 30 pages without leaving you feeling too short-changed. It's OKAY!

(*) Originally “The Cursed Earth” was 25 episodes long but this reprint omits the “Burger Wars” and “Soul Food” chapters, 4 episodes in total. Since the strips mocked the copyrighted characters of McDonalds, Burger King, and Green Giant (amongst others) and this led to legal action, these were not reprinted until 2016 in ““The Cursed Earth” Uncensored”. This was due to a 2014 change in the law implementing a European directive on copyright law allowing the use of copyright-protected characters for parody. Bloody Brussels! Bloody unelected bureaucrats! Coming over here and staffing our Health services! Grrr! Oh, wait…Anyway, I can’t remember the missing episodes having only read them once, and so “The Cursed Earth” no longer includes them in my head. Basically I’m not fussed that this book is “incomplete”, but you might be. You know how funny you can be about these things.

JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH by McMahon, Mills & Frame

NEXT TIME: A flamboyantly insane man-child achieves the highest office in the land endangering the lives of millions! Is it reality or – COMICS!!!

THE JUDGE DREDD MEGA COLLECTION REVIEW INDEX

“Scream Twice If You Still Understand Anything I'm Saying.” COMICS! Sometimes It's The Worst of All Worlds!

It’s 2017! To start us off I cravenly pander to the swing of things to the Right Wing by looking at a comic with a Alt-Right Nazi as the good guy. Because only in Hell... REQUIEM VAMPIRE KNIGHT by Ledroit, Mills & Collin

Anyway this...

REQUIEM VAMPIRE KNIGHT VOL.1: RESURRECTION Art by Olivier Ledroit Written by Pat Mills Lettered by Jacques Collin Nickel Editions, Comixology:£2.49 (2000) Requiem Chevalier Vampire created by Olivier Ledroit and Pat Mills

Personally I blame Pat Mills. For my entrenched amour de la bande dessinée that is, not the parlous state of the world as we settle in for the long, long slog through 2017. Christ, nigh on forty years back now, in 1977, Pat Mills broke my juvenile mind with the first issue of 2000AD; oh, he’d been experimentally tapping it with a creative cudgel earlier via Action and Battle, but 2000AD did the trick. I never did put my mind back together, there was always a bit missing, a bit the comics would fill from now on. Ah, lovely, lovely Pat Mills. The day Pat Mills is no longer around to pursue his quirky herd of hobby horses with his unfashionably fiery passion Comics will be a smaller, dumber place. I may not agree with everything he’s caught up in (Réincarnation? Je ne vois pas de quoi que ce soit pire!) but I like the cut of that man’s jib. Fucker’s got fire, and I like that. That’s a quick refresher on my default position on Pat Mills, so how magical to have it confirmed so thrillingly with Requiem Chevalier Vampire, a comic I never even knew existed until it went on sale on the ’Ology.

REQUIEM VAMPIRE KNIGHT by Ledroit, Mills & Collin

While I was familiar enough with Pat Mills I’d never heard of Nickel Editions, which is no surprise as after a bit of research (AKA le googling) it transpires that Nickel Editions make Fantagraphics look like Marvel©®. Or they did when Requiem Chevalier Vampire started back in the year 2000. Nickel was formed by Pat Mills, Olivier Ledriot and Jacques Collin in order to get Pat Mills into that sweet, sweet French comics market by publishing (Prenez une proposition! Rapidement!) Requiem Chevalier Vampire (Aw, trop lent!) Since Mills and Olivier created the actual comic I’m guessing Collin handled the (lettering and) business bits, and since Wikipedia tells me Collin had previously founded Zenda Editions I’m upgrading that guess to a hesitant certainty. Founded in 1987 Zenda’s catalogue of DC, Dark Horse and British reprints, together with original works by budding French talents, had proved successful enough for it to be snapped up by Jacques Glénat in 1994. While still an independent entity Zenda had handled Marshal Law, Slaine and A.B.C Warriors reprints dans la belle France, all of which series most of you will know were co-created by one Pat Mills, additionally Zenda also first published the work of one Olivier Ledriot. Mills & Ledroit had also worked together on Sha (1995-7) for Zenda. I’ll be a monkey’s uncle, it looks like everyone got on despite their different nationalities! Collaborating with Johnny Foreigner! This chappy Pat Mills needs a refresher in good old British Xenophobia. Report to your nearest Conditioning Centre, citizen Mills! Wait, one comic? I mean I know roughly shit squared about publishing but surely that’s some heavily swinging balls right there; you publish one comic you’ve got precisely one chance, so you better have the right comic. I guess  Requiem Chevalier Vampire was the right comic because after being on hiatus since 2011, it’s due to end in either 2017 or 2018 when the final two volumes will be released. Traditional as a Sunday roast, I started at the beginning and took a look at Requiem Chevalier Vampire Vol 1: Résurrection, or Requiem Vampire Knight Vol.1: Resurrection, as it is in the language of Shakespeare. Forsooth!

REQUIEM VAMPIRE KNIGHT by Ledroit, Mills & Collin

Ledroit and Mills’ begin as they mean to go on, leaving subtlety to slumber and splashing a honking great swastika at the top of the first page. And, Buddhists be damned, there’s nothing lucky about that spiritually devalued sign for Heinrich Augsburg, a German soldier whom we first meet splayed in the Russian snow unconscious from a headwound. Roughly awakened from his chilly torpor by a thoroughly uncouth Russki looter, Augsburg tries to save  a picture of his sweetheart, Rebecca, and succeeds instead in catching a bullet with his forehead. A wound he won’t be waking up on this earth from any time soon. Luckily anyone worried that they’ve just bought a very expensive and very, very short comic about the inadequacy of love to trump the inadvisability of invading Russia in winter, finds instead that in the world of Requiem Vampire Knight death is not the end. Ausburg does wake up from his wound but not in this world but the next. Résurrection, to give that world a name. Although “Hell” is used interchangeably with “Résurrection” throughout, despite it acting a bit more like Purgatory than the conventional Hell. Still it’s not like we’re talking about a real place, rather a fictional construct so whatever Pat Mills says goes, and he can call it “Betty” if he wants. Anyway, the setting is definitely where (most of) the dead are dumped before going anywhere else. Mills has time run backwards in “Hell”, probably as a wee nod to the Dresden chapter in Vonnegut’s Slaughterhouse 5, or the entirety of Amis fils’ Time’s Arrow; both of which go on about WW2, and the latter of which is specifically about Nazi death camp atrocities. Fret not, Mills spares the reader the headache of actually writing the comic in reverse. Mostly then we get the odd caption like “yesterday”, which essentially means “the next day”, or “two years earlier” which means…ah, you’ve got it. The upshot is that (most) characters age backwards, losing memories as they do so until they wink out of existence or move on to wherever. The topsy turviness doesn’t stop there though! There’s a physical inversion for the revivified dead to contend with. The landmasses and the seas are also reversed, so America in “Hell” is a big sea of blood while the Pacific is a landmass of fiery offal, etc.  I think Mills is pushing for “Hell”, as does war, distorts reality so far out of the normal human frame of reference, that only by reversing it, or some similar mental gymnastics, can any sanity be clawed back. Oh, and here war is “Hell”, literally. Wars require factions and Mills serves up plenty of them; a great squirming mass of unsavoury types. I'll not go into them because the comic does that, but I will say I liked the Yoda mentor who was a big evil baby with skin like a verruca and teeth like a diseased dog.

REQUIEM VAMPIRE KNIGHT by Ledroit, Mills & Collin

While it would be unfair to say that if you’ve read one Pat Mills comic then you’ve read them all, it’s probably okay to say that if you’ve read one Pat Mills comic you’ve read bits of them all. And Requiem Vampire Knight is nothing if not a big hot comics pudding studded with the currants of Pat Mills’ anger misted mind’s eye. Thrill to the appearance of a rag tag bunch of cannon fodder misfits with comically distorted familiar names. (Al a Gangreen in Marshal Law. )  A hero who isn’t one, and by the end of the series can practically be guaranteed to be as big a shit as his Big Bad. (We all loved edgy alien terrorist Nemesis, but by the end he and Torquemada deserved each other. Power corrupts. Absolutely!) A smart arsed sidekick of reduced stature. (Ukko, ok?) Physical manifestation of the protagonist’s inner savagery. (Slaine’s warp spasm.) A less than chivalrous romantic relationship. (Too many past examples to mention. I fear for Pat Mils' bruised heart.) Satirical blunderpussing of whatever the patented Pat Mills Wheel of Disgust stopped at on that particular day. (Authority! Hypocrisy! Complacency! Mrs Brown’s Boys! Etc etc.) It would be wrong to put this down to a lack of, well, anything other than intention. Mills’s pursues these recurring themes and aspects so assertively across so many series that it can’t be anything but intentional.  As a result Mills’ work is very Moorcockian with the same people and concepts seemingly being reborn across all the disparate Millsverses, forever entwined in the Eternal Conflict. At a first cursory glance Mills might come off as Manichean, but he’s smarter than that. When he sets up Good and Evil you can be sure each is tainted by the other. Ah, tthe ‘shades of grey’ so beloved of folk who don’t want to commit themselves to a course of action, one might think. But not so, rather an acknowledgement that there is Good and there is Evil, but you have to keep your eye on the ball, people, or before you know it a, say, harmless bit of politically expedient scapegoating of minorities can quickly turn into industrialised mass murder. And it’s kind of hard to walk back from that one. (Not that there’s likely to be any politically expedient scapegoating of minorities in 2017, after all we all know better now after Nazi Germany. We sure don’t need people to point out that that is wrong. Right?) There’s subtlety and nuance in Mills work, but, yes,  it lurks under all the gaudy grand guignol and bombastic polemics. Or maybe he’s just saying people are dicks and ever will be dicks. He probably wouldn’t be wrong.

REQUIEM VAMPIRE KNIGHT by Ledroit, Mills & Collin

Even if you find Pat Mills' hectoring tone a turn-off there's still the attraction of Ledroit's art. Art which is kind of eye boggling in its intensity and clarity of detail. Here Ledroit’s art assaults the reader with a blend of fully painted images and mixed media mayhem, with a bit of technological jiggery-pokery to boot, I bet. Panels float atop sheets of sigils, maggots and gore, with cryptic backlit script making much of the book resemble an illuminated manuscript penned by the very Devil himself! In short it looks a lot like the work of Dave McKean’s troubled nephew, the one who plays Motörhead too loud and can’t be trusted around pets and sharp objects. It’s atmospheric stuff, imagine the world of Elric set in an abattoir; no, belay that, it’s a sword and sorcery comic set inside the mind of a serial killer, I don’t know, it’s a child playing soldiers with mismatched action figures on a carpet of something red wet and steaming that just ceased screaming; you’re getting the gist of the thing, yes? The art may be heavily redolent of offal but the result is very far from awful. There’s a gory grandeur to the thing with the soaring cathedrals of black stone and the mammoth air galleons pushing your belief capacitors to the limit. Think of the floating heads of Zardoz flensed to the skull and plated in chrome with a shine as sharp as a razor, now picture them scooting over a landscape resembling an untended butcher's shop window at the height of summer, firing blasts of  disco-hued energy at a chaotic riot of screaming rot. There's a bit of Enki Bilal in Ledroit's chalk skinned and razor cheek-boned Nazis, a bit of Clint Langley in the fusion of flesh and metal, but ultimately the bulk of the wide screen insanity is Ledroit's alone. Nice. All of which is a long-winded way of saying REQUIEM VAMPIRE KNIGHT VOL.1: RESURRECTION is as crazy as it is entertaining which can only be VERY GOOD!

Ultimately you can tell it's set in Hell because there aren't any - COMICS!!!

“I Fail To See What’s So Remarkable About Two Robots Dancing.” COMICS! Sometimes I’ll Need To See Some ID Before You Go Any Further, Sunshine.

This time out I look at 2000AD yet again, but you can tell I’m getting a bit worn down. Not because you’re perceptive, but because I flat out say so. Then in an attempt to pep things up a bit I take a look at  a one man anthology by the one man affront to all that’s rational! Men want to be him, women want to be with him, and the FBI just plain want him! It’s that loveable scamp, the part-time Cher impersonator and full-time living colossus of Comics, Mr. Gilbert “Betty” Hernandez. And this wretched creature on the end of my critical stick is BLUBBER #2.  (Strictly no kids past the MORE…) BLUBBER by Gilbert Hernandez

Anyway, this…

2000AD #1967 & #1968 Art by Mark Sexton, Richard Elson, Clint Langley, John Burns, Carlos Ezquerra Written by Michael Carroll, Dan Abnett, Pat Mills, Kek-W, John Wagner Lettered by Annie Parkhouse, Ellie De Ville, Simon Bowland Coloured by Len O’Grady Cover by Clint Langley JUDGE DREDD created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner KINGDOM created by Richard Elson & Dan Abnett ABC WARRIORS created by Kevin O’Neill, Brendan McCarthy, Mick McMahon & Pat Mills THE ORDER created by John Burns & Kek-W STRONTIUM DOG created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner © 2016 Rebellion A/S Rebellion, £2.55 each, weekly (2016)

What? Again? Already? Stomm, I’m not really feeling it this time out. The problem it turns out is that weekly instalments all end up being a wee bit samey, so it’s a little difficult coming up with something new to say. But we’ll persevere, after all that’s why they pay me the big bucks. In the indicia to Prog 1967 Tharg’s hidden message is that he is very busy and everything is late. By Prog 1968 things seem to have calmed a little and he’s crowing about how only the best Venusian oil will do for his droids, but is considering doing a Kickstarter due to the high costs of importing said oil. (N.B. It is tacitly understood by readers that 2000AD’s editor is a green skinned Betelgeusian and the creators who toil beneath his tyrannical yoke are all characterised as robots who should think themselves lucky. Over in the UK we find this kind of thing amusing.)

JUDGE DREDD (Sexton, Carroll, O’Grady & Parkhouse)

In Prog 1968 the not entirely convincing saga of Judge Badger and the Secret Citi-Block of Rogue Judges comes to a somewhat sudden end. Taking the tale as a whole I’d have to say it was a well done enough chunk of fun, but very little had changed by the end. Dredd’s fascistic veneer took another tiny little knock but more importantly, I guess, Carroll laid the groundwork for future stories which won’t trip over John Wagner’s stuff. Mark Sexton was the star of this one with his crisply attired Judges smoothly navigating the slightly scruffy future setting. And either Len O’Grady or Sexton himself did some nice layering with the colours to lend the images depth, which really paid off in the fighting on catwalks scenes. Carroll’s story was sound on the surface but had some worrying chinks in its armour. A scene where one of four chains supporting a craft was shot resulted in the craft plummeting onto the bad guys below, but should really just have resulted in that corner of the craft drooping and bobbling about like Bruce Willis’ penis in the Color of Night pool scene. And no matter how close sisters may be, it’s unlikely a fascistic wingnut with delusions of grandeur is likely to risk decades of covert skulduggery just so they can be together. Now, we’re all God’s children so I’m not saying fascists lack normal human feelings but it is a fact that I’ve never seen a “For Fascists” section in a greeting card shop. But, y’know, the twist involving DeMarco was, however, pretty neat and all my typically minor carps were ultimately outweighed by the strong pacing and the high entertainment quotient. Solid stuff so GOOD!

KINGDOM (Elson, Abnett & DeVille)

Despite the fact that Prog 1966 promised all kinds of hell was about to break loose Prog 1967 has a weirdly truncated fight scene which pisses away the promise of the preceding issue’s double page spread to basically just establish our cast are now in a siege situation. Then someone notices a giant insect mound that they should probably go and pour a giant kettle of hot water down in order to stop the insect horde. So they decide to do that. Come Prog 1968 Gene and Co, are well on their way, and in case you were wondering how they got out of the besieged city then be assured that Abnett makes every effort to make you think he’s explained that, but you’re pretty sure he hasn’t. Or maybe he did, I read this when I was tired (but I don’t think he did explain it). Prog 1968’s episode opens with a couple of humans who previously appeared in the strip during the 8 years I wasn’t reading it. That’s okay, because there’s a little note referring to previous events. They don’t do notes like that in North American comics anymore because everything happens so slowly that drawing attention to it would just be dispiriting to everyone. (“Miles first started cooking these pancakes six issues ago!”, Underutilised Ed!) Accompanying the humans is another dog thing who immediately starts fighting Gene, our hero, in a page snaffling instance of the usual clichéd misunderstanding  so beloved of old timey comics. Efficiency remains the watchword with Abnett’s script and Elson continues to steadfastly draw it all with a crispness that Quentin (*) would envy. OKAY! (*) Quentin Crisp not Quentin Tarantino. C’mon, work with me here.

ABC WARRIORS (Langley, Mills & Parkhouse)

If at any point anyone out there (SMASH CUT to street as seen in Western movies, cue tumbleweed and eerie whistling) is considering berating Pat Mills for the lack of subtlety in his satire you may wish to remind yourself that in PROG 1967 the villainous Howard Quartz draws up a Death List of droids for the chop, and he writes the names on a tablet clearly headed “DEATH LIST”. I don’t think Pat Mills is under any misapprehensions about the level of satire he’s offering up. But you might be. These two episodes are set in Gracie’s Bar and the second features Ro-Jaws and Hammerstein doing a song and dance number gussied up in top hat and tails. It’s a Hell of an image and Langley delivers it as he delivers all his imagery here, with an appropriately messy undercurrent to the technology on show. It was at that point that I started to strongly suspect Mills was actually writing this story within (between) the very earliest Ro-Busters stories, because I know that image of the dancing droids of old; it kind of sticks with you. How very clever, Pat Mills. Of course I can’t tell you how successfully he’s doing it, because I don’t still have those issues, but still a doff of the cap and all that.  What is new (to me) is Mills’ subversive take on the “cakewalk” and how by applying it (retroactively) to Ro-Jaws and Hammerstein’s antics he’s able to bed in his slaves/robots  (sub)text so deep it won’t shift. Satire doesn’t have to be subtle (and it doesn’t even have to be funny) it just needs to ring true. Ding! Ding! VERY GOOD!

THE ORDER (Burns, Kek-W & De Ville)

Like I said back there, I was tired when I read these comics so in-between all the stuff about consciousness transferring, lovers reunited and my personal confusion over the fact that what I had previously thought was one woman was in fact two women (said confusion despite John Burns attiring one in a memory searing outfit of scarlet leather) I think I recall Francis Bacon being in this. No, the philosopher and statesman, not the painter. It’s set in the 1580s, so come on, play fair now. Anyway, if you look him up on Wikipedia so you can type “the philosopher and statesman, not the painter” like you know what you are talking about, there’s a facsimile of his signature. It’s got his birth date and everything on there as well, which I find a touch dicey given all the palaver about identity theft these days. (“Hello, Mr. Bacon? This is VisaCard, can you confirm the fact that you recently purchased a 97” HD-Ready Television in Portugal yesterday?” “No, no, I did not. I live in Balham and I’m perfectly happy with my current television. Damn, it’s those irresponsible fuckers at Wikipedia again!”)  See, whenever a real life historical figure appears in a comic I am unavoidably reminded of Jonathan Hickman and Dustin Weaver’s (still uncompleted) SHIELD series. In a clear bid for intellectual cachet this series (the still uncompleted SHIELD one by Jonathan Hickman and Dustin Weaver) about Tony Stark’s Dad (Larry Stark) and Reed Richard’s Dad (Trevor Richards) bro-ing about, also had Sir Isaac Newton and Leonardo Da Vinci squaring off because comics. Being a modern man I know very little about, and I have very little interest in, anything that does not impinge directly on my life, a remit which some long dead boffins scarcely fill, but I’m pretty sure they were clever fellows. Yet in Jonathan Hickman and Dustin Weaver’s (still uncompleted) SHIELD series these two had their followers dress in uniforms and run at each other in the street like slightly less boorish football hooligans. It’s this deft handling of real-life historical figures which always comes to mind when another such figure rears its head in a story. Um, I’ve lost track of what I was on about. I usually mention John Burns’ art is a treat for the eyes, did I do that yet? OKAY! 

STRONTIUM DOG (Ezquerra, Wagner & Bowland)

STRONTIUM DOG continues to be so reliable as to be easily taken for granted when in fact its very reliability should be the subject of envy throughout the Comics World. Guess which bit I left until last and then ran out of time on. Hey, I’m sorry my review isn’t up to snuff but I want a weekend too! VERY GOOD!

WOULD ALL CHILDREN PLEASE LEAVE THE AUDITORIUM! LADIES POSSESSED OF A DELICATE NATURE AND GENTLEMEN SUFFERING FROM DISORDERS OF THE MIND ARE ALSO ENCOURAGED TO SEEK ALTERNATE SHELTER FOR THE DURATION OF THE FOLLOWING! (!!KLAXON SOUNDS!!) THE MANAGEMENT THANKS YOU. AND NOW…

BLUBBER #2 by Gilbert Hernandez Fantagraphics $3.99 (2016) © 2016 Gilbert Hernandez (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339)

WARNING! BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339) is proper nasty. Dirrrrrrrrty, even.

There is a school of thought that BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339) is Gilbert Hernandez taking the piss out of the whole Comics Aren’t Just for Kids! horsepuckey by applying to the tropes of childish entertainment: superheroes, zombies, bad girls, monsters etc. a more realistic approximation of the actual recreational thoughts of real-life adults. Sure, everyone pretends adults are forever relaxing with a cheeky red while reading the novels of Stefan Zweig or watching the movies of Shohei Imamura, whereas of course they are mostly getting shitfaced on gassy piss and reading Dan Brown books or watching Star Wars movies. Which they are perfectly entitled to do. And, lest we forget, it’s a white knuckle ride for anyone anticipating sophistication and erudition once they pass through the beaded curtain into the “Adult” section of anywhere at all. So I’m told. Mind you, none of that matters since I am the only person attending that school, and its curriculum reflects so badly on both humanity and myself that its funding has been pulled with a view to it being demolished, the ground salted, and the whole unwise endeavour replaced by a statute of Deadpool miming a slightly risqué joke.

BLUBBER by Gilbert Hernandez

So, politicians, dog fondlers, Catholic priests, ham radio enthusiasts, bacon fetishists and people with unimpeachable taste in comics rejoice, because YES! it’s the second issue of Gilbert Hernandez’ sanity taunting BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339)! That’s right, kids, the Best Comic of 2016©™® has already arrived! In January yet! And yes I do know it is now February but I’ve been busy; those ritual murders currently baffling the finest minds in law enforcement won’t commit themselves! So, February 2016 and already everyone else in comics can pack up and fuck right off, because here comes BLUBBER #2 (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339)! In this issue of BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339) bestiality and mutilation flaunt themselves with gay abandon upon every B&W page. This time out though the familiar menageries of witlessly priapic and savagely violent species are joined by the most witlessly priapic and savagely violent species of all – humanity! Jism drizzled and blood sodden capers ensue. But don’t take my unbiased and wholly reliable word for it; check out the sordid menu yourself:

BLOVIATE! as the order comes from above for “T.A.C. Man” to track down the pollum and “fuck him up!” Can the world’s first Tactical! Advanced! Commando! Man! best his turgid membered and swingingly nippled nemesis? Meanwhile, back at the base bureaucratic thrills galore occur as Mr. Hippy is genitally mutilated and then cruelly defenestrated by Marshman in a  fit of pique! And could all this dark malarkey be the sinister work of the erectly menacing Wild Dicks? The only way to find out is to rub BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339) against your face! T.A.C.TASTIC BONUS! Featuring the discharge enhancing debut of the sensational character find of 2016 – Boat Man! More than a man! More than a boat! It’s Boat Man! T.A.C. Man and Boat Man! Orifices on land and sea beware! T.A.C. Man and Boat Man! Action and buoyancy in blissful syncopation! T.A.C. Man and Boat Man! CHUCH MY MUNG, TRUE BELIEVERS!

BLUBBER by Gilbert Hernandez

INVEST! as “XXX Superstar Pupusi And Her Pals” degrade and traduce the beauty of the physical act of love with a cheeky wink, a sticky smile and maybe a philosophical bon mot or two! Ooh! Watch out Pupusi and Maximiliano! That creepy peeper, Mr. Hammernuts is at it again! The big shit!

BOONDOGGLE! as Gilbert Hernandez answers the question which has stumped the finest scientific minds since the world first cooled like a big spherical pie on the window ledge of the universe! Go tell your Momma, go tell the Spartans, “Who Fears The Froat?”

COMBUST! As the micro-dicked Grecian buff-cakes of “Sweet” amble about sating their sexual impulses via the slits, vents and cavities of willing fauna such as the Pooso and the Orlat. What does such mindless and crassly loveless debauchery mean? It means, dude, life is “Sweet”! Whoa! SAVOURY BONUS! Discover the untold secret origin of XXX Pupusi’s name!

LACTATE! for all must fall before the wildly flailing fists of THE TAMPERRRRRR! None must be allowed to slow his surly progress! See how he trundles sowing truculent violence in his wake! But wait! Has our tin carapaced malcontent finally met his match in the form of a Junipero Molestat? Can only an unconvincingly proffered claim as to the debilitating effects of a recent heavy cold save face? The answer will leave you UNRUFFLED! All hail the gutless metal bully! THE TAMPERRRRRR!!!!

SPINDLE! as events take a decidedly spiritual turn when “Father Puto”  takes a break from his incessant pud tugging to join Bulto N. Piper and  Bumps the Faun at the Zombie field. Events soon turn sour as Father Pupa’s dislike of Bumps the Faun lures him into expressing his baser nature. A small mind and a closed heart result in an eruption of anal horror and tragic asphyxiation due to ingestion of a bitten off zombie-cock. But wait? Could this all be part of God’s design? Will the chastened cleric get another chance to get it right? Find out in the latest adventure of the priest with the cum stained pants!

T.A.C.GASMIC BONUS! T.A.C. Man and Marshman “cross swords” once more with attendance at the celebration of the Christian Eucharist hanging in the balance!

N.B. BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339) is not suitable for children or people with any sense of decorum or shame.

For the rest of us though, BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339) is EXCELLENT!

BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339) - Don’t ask, just weep!

BLUBBER by Gilbert Hernandez

BLUBBER (DIAMOND CODE: SEP151339) is – COMICS!!!

“Let’s All Send Him Our Love.” COMICS! Sometimes I Suspect My Chakras Are Stunted.

Anthologies don’t sell! Yet people keep publishing them and I keep buying them. Here are some words about three anthologies I read this week. ABC WARRIORS (Langley, Mills & Parkhouse)

Anyway, this... 2000AD Prog 1966 Art by Mark Sexton, Richard Elson, Clint Langley, John Burns, Carlos Ezquerra Written by Michael Carroll, Dan Abnett, Pat Mills, Kek-W, John Wagner Coloured by Len O’Grady Lettered by Annie Parkhouse, Ellie De Ville, Simon Bowland Cover by Neil Roberts JUDGE DREDD created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner KINGDOM created by Richard Elson & Dan Abnett ABC WARRIORS created by Kevin O’Neill, Brendan McCarthy, Mick McMahon & Pat Mills THE ORDER created by John Burns & Kek-W STRONTIUM DOG created by Carlos Ezquerra Rebellion, £2.55, weekly (2016) All contents © 2016 Rebellion A/S, unless specifically stated otherwise.

Hey, here’s a thing I just noticed about 2000AD: in the little box of publishing information which tells you who owns what and what they’ll do to you if you nick it (rub distressed foxes in your face), some wag has only gone and put something humorous in it. I don’t have a fetish for legal bumph but concealing larks in that part of a comic is not entirely unknown, so occasionally I check, and this time that nanosecond glance into the small print paid off. I don’t know if it’s a regular thing, but this time out, camouflaged by legalese, someone has used the space to update people on his/her opinion of that TV series with the bikers in. The one with Ron Perlman in. The one Jason Aaron fans probably call “searing” and “incisive” when they aren’t eating raw bacon and crying about their dad not hugging them enough. Whoever penned the micro-crit wasn’t too impressed with the surly biker show but we were already into some pretty entertaining stuff and the comic hadn’t even started. See, it’s always worth having a poke about, you never know what you might find. Unless of course you work with highly confidential information, in which case you’re probably as well just minding your own business. No one wants to end up in a field choked on a porn mag with a suspiciously curt suicide note pinned to their head now, do they? As usual Tharg says some stuff but I didn’t read it. So if he said owt about me mum, let me know and I’ll go round and give ‘im a thick ear. At the bottom of the page we are promised the return of Bill Savage – COME ON, TWINKLETOES! GET SOME! So, yes, looking forward to that. GET IN THERE! Stoked, one might say.

JUDGE DREDD (Sexton, Carroll, O'Grady & Parkhouse)

Oh, this one’s getting shakier as it goes on. Okay, we can go with a secret city-within-a-city of faux Judges, but stressing how hard-line they are (Hershey says they make normal Judges look like liberals – Whoof!) and then having them risk everything to rescue someone’s sister rings more than a little false. Additionally names are important in genre fiction and unfortunately naming the big bad “Badger” just makes me think of Brian May and I don’t really ever want to think about Brian May. Unless he’s being attacked by badgers. On the upside, however, Carroll does a really good job selling the idea that Dredd’s outclassed by his opponents on the cunning front, only to give him a sweet “You’re so sly, but so am I!” move to end the episode on. Sexton’s art remains detailed without becoming cluttered and is a definite asset to Carroll’s slightly listing script.  GOOD!

KINGDOM (Abnett, Elson & De Ville)

There’s not a lot to say about this because it isn’t really a story, Gene (our genetically modified hero) goes and tells everyone the bugs are coming, everyone listens, goes away and prepares and then the bugs come. That’s yer lot. There isn’t even a dude with anchors on his jacket telling Gene that it’s the Fourth of July so it’s probably best for everyone if the beaches stay open. No, they just go “okay”, and knuckle down for the big slobberknocker promised by the closing two page spread of the sea of insects about to break upon the walls of the compound. You can tell that’s a big moment because pages are precious in each and every Prog, so to splurge on a double page spread means you best sit up and listen. It’s not like your American comics with their splash page fetish and its ever diminishing returns (except for writers who get paid by the page). Oh, KINGDOM’s all right, but like I say it doesn’t feel like a story just a sequence of events. Which is fine, Abnett and Elson efficiently purvey low-attention, high-octane entertainment, but I don’t think I’ll ever feel the need to read a collected edition. For six or so pages it’s pleasant enough company. A bit like a short bus ride sat next to someone who neither stinks of ammonia nor yammers into a mobile like a deaf cretin. OKAY!

ABC WARRIORS (Langley, Mills & Parkhouse)

Pat Mills and Clint Langley once again, via the medium of violent robots, point at real world events and make Little Rascals Faces. Remember all those enquiries we had over here, particularly that phone hacking one which saw all those morally scrofulous people sent down and disgraced despite their connections to Rupert “Doomlord” Murdoch and David “The Ham Botherer” Cameron because The System works? No, neither does Pat Mills, but he remembers all those enquiries we had over here, particularly that phone hacking one which saw all those morally scrofulous people look a bit sheepish and embarrassed for a bit before basically taking up where they left off once everyone’s attention wandered back to The f****** Great British Bake-Off (“Terry’s sponge fingers tickle everyone’s fancy!”). Because: power protects power. Admittedly as messages go it’s all a bit rainy-day but Mills & Langley do part the clouds a bit to throw in a robot nurse with steel breasts (because men would, wouldn’t they?) and a psychotic robot yelling about “Big Jobs!” Langleys’ art might, alas, look like someone forgot to set up the printer properly but the fact ABC WARRIORS still bothers to pretend anyone cares about anything goes a long way towards healing that particular visual wound. Also, “Big Jobs!” will always make me laugh; simple pleasures for simple folk. And I am nothing if not simple. VERY GOOD! 

THE ORDER (Burns, Kek-W & De Ville)

Finally, The Order plays to its strengths which, John Burns’ lovely art aside, is the odd bloke tracking our dreary heroes.  The strip would be a lot better if this guy was the protagonist; he’s a bit like the autistic savant type so beloved of current televisual melodramas but less tiresomely winsome. The lesson here is that steam driven motorbikes and people anachronistically babbling in Code are okay, but character wins the day. OKAY!

STRONTIUM DOG (Wagner, Ezquerra & Bowland)

It’s easy to take Strontium Dog for granted given the apparent ease with which Ezquerra and Wagner pump it out. But then you see a panel where an alien seagull is snatching some snap from a dude with his face in his knee and the amiable weirdness of what is going on becomes glaringly apparent. I also like the fact that while Johnny is a presented as a Good Guy (which he mostly is) he’s also well dodgy and has no qualms taking advantage of the fact that the Galanthans can’t understand the concept of deceit. He’s not hurting anyone is he? Also, The Brain of Hoomonos looks like the end of term scrapings from the underside of a thousand ten year olds’ desks palm-rolled into a ball. Light comedy, endearing characters and nimbly imaginative shenanigans all add up to something that’s VERY GOOD!

JUDGE DREDD MEGAZINE #368 Art by Nick Percival, Paul Grist, Steve Yeowell, Ben Willsher Written by Michael Carroll, Paul Grist, Arthur Wyatt Coloured by Nick Percival, Phil Elliott, Chris Blythe Lettered by Annie Parkhouse, Paul Grist, Ellie De Ville, Simon Bowland Text features by Karl Stock, Matthew Badham Rebellion, £5.80, mothly (2016) All contents © 2016 Rebellion A/S, unless otherwise stated. Demon Nic © 2016 Paul Grist JUDGE DREDD created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner DEMON NIC created by Paul Grist GALEN DEMARCO created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner

JUDGE DREDD MEGAZINE began in 1990 and is thus 2000AD’s much younger relative.  It comes out monthly rather than weekly, and has always seemed a bit extraneous to be honest; an impression not softened by the knowledge that it has often struggled to survive. At one dire point half the comic was taken up by PREACHER reprints, which was okay if you hadn’t already read PREACHER (or didn’t think PREACHER was an undisciplined mess). In 2016 those mend and make do days are long gone and it’s all original strips; well, except for quite a sizeable chunk of text stuff. I didn’t read the text stuff because I barely had time to read the comic, but it takes the form of interviews with the artists Mark Sexton and Darren Douglas, and the writer Si Spurrier. Although this is basically cheap content I am tentatively approving of it since I am old school, and I well recall having to actually make the effort to hunt down interviews with comic creators, and also the infrequency of such interviews. So if you have an interest in the work of Sexton (currently drawing Judge Dredd  - see above) or Douglas then there you go. Si Spurrier is more about shilling his new series from Image about werewolf lesbian soldiers or something. I’m sure it’s fine; he’s a decent writer from what I’ve seen. I do remain confused as to why he’s given space in the megazine to basically advertise another company’s product, but I’ll put that down to the British largesse of generosity (yes that famous largesse of ours) rather than the result of some weird quid pro quo. Mind you, if anyone is after some purely prose werewolf entertainment I’ll grant myself this opportunity to shill Toby Barlow’s SHARP TEETH (VERY GOOD!) and RED MOON (GOOD!) by Benjamin Percy. Two can play at that game, son.

JUDGE DREDD (Percival, Carroll & Parkhouse)

Aw, nertz. This is just EH! And me and Michael Carroll were doing so well, we were going to meet each other’s parents and maybe start looking for a small house together! But he’s put the kibosh on all that with this duffer. In this first disappointing instalment of a new Dredd thrill, Judge Dredd and Judge Joyce go to a floating shanty town populated by the crew from Bill Nighy’s ship in that movie based on a theme park ride.  The thing is though, right, because of science no technology can work in this place, The Gyre.  Ah, where to begin. Right, yeah, it’s okay making a point of mentioning that Judge Dredd’s bionic eyes will still work because they are “shielded” since a) I’m impressed anyone remembers he had his eyes poked out during City of The Damned and b) the guy has to see unless we’re in for a kind of ultra-violent fascistic riff on Norman Wisdom. So, ahuh, okay, the tech don’t work except for Dredd’s eyes  (which are “shielded”) but how come, how come right, even though their guns don’t work, and they knew going in that only Dredd’s “shielded” eyes would work, how come they didn’t just take some of those projectile weapons humanity has had such a boner for for, ooh, only a few thousand years? How come that?   There’s no microchips in a Desert Eagle, Judge Dredd! Or a bow and arrow, for that matter. And why, pray tell, isn’t Judge Joyce in proper uniform? He’s an Irish Judge so he should be in green and white with the Guinness harp on his helmet, and be perpetually concerned that they’re all after his luck charms, Bejaysus! (Hey, don’t look at me; Garth Ennis’ frequently regrettable sense of humour’s the culprit there.) Or whatever. But no, he’s depicted as just another Judge here, which seems odd. (I suppose he could have got a transfer I forgot about during my 8 years in the wilderness) Mind you Nick Percival’s art is also pretty odd from soup to nuts. He’s gone for that all painted approach which is usually used by weaker artists to plaster over any artistic deficiencies, a function it never achieved too convincingly. And so it is with Nick Percival. But, I can’t fault his colours; everything’s got an appropriately fish-gutty look, and it all certainly looks like it would stink like death would be a mercy if you were actually there. But everything under the colours is awkward with stilted poses, and such a lack of flow that the water based scenario just becomes cruelly ironic. Like the host of a shit party Percival saves the worst until last, with a full page splash of something apparently so daunting our Judges can only goggle. Unfortunately the page turn reveals Percival has drawn what appears to be a bunch of empty barges kind of milling about lethargically, which no matter how highly strung you are isn’t even interesting, never mind threatening.  It’s like he forgot to draw something very important (like a horde of angry fish men, or a rain of enraged monkfish; I don’t know what he forgot,  after all it’s pretty hard to guess what someone hasn’t drawn). Nothing about this strip is interesting except the fact that Carroll decides to lift the “mind your language” bit from DARK KNIGHT RETURNS, and by interesting I mean baffling. I mean, why? (Because that’s what being baffled sounds like.) It’s not a homage - Dredd isn’t mortally wounded and he isn’t chasing his “Joker” through a Tunnel of Love, he’s just running after some thug and gets a bit short on wind on board a crappy ship. I don’t know why the callback’s there really. This first episode is so poorly thought out, slackly paced and badly visualised it’s more DARK KNIGHT III: THE MASTER RACE than DARK KNIGHT RETURNS. I’m not a fan is what I’m getting at here. Step it up, guys.

DEMON NIC (Grist & Elliott)

DEMON NIC (someone explain that title to Brian Azzarello, his little face is all creased up!) is a creator owned series by Paul Grist, and this episode is the final episode in the current run. Now, I don’t really know how I find myself in the weird position of just chancing upon work by Paul Grist right as it ends because , seriously, I would certainly appreciate it if someone out there could keep me informed of Paul Grist’s doings from now on. Clearly, The Internet isn’t cutting it. It is forever telling me what people I have no interest in are doing (things I have no interest in reading, weirdly enough).  I’m not bothered if he’s doing DOCTOR WHO because Doctor Who is, er, well, look, I’m not fussed, okay. I’m allowed to not be bothered about DOCTOR WHO you know! Everything else Paul Grist gets up to? Would you mind awfully letting me know? Thanks, you are a dear. So, yeah, nothing worse than coming in on a series’ vinegar stroke but this seems to be a spooky actioner a la Hellboy but considerably more dense, amusing and generally playful in that droll way I like. Oh, and the art is spectacular. Usually I get a bit twitchy when the page is black rather than white (Avatar do that a lot) and I’ll be shaking like a shitting dog if the panel borders also go AWOL because you need to be pretty sweet at that whole art deal to be getting away with that. Here Grist just plops his chunkily robust cast onto pure black pages and guides the eye around via the miracle of being very bloody good at what he does. Just brilliant stuff. EXCELLENT!

DEMARCO, P.I. (Yeowell, Carroll & De Ville)

Ah, I’m beginning to see the problem; Michael Carroll is overstretched. Personally I avoid the work of any writer who regularly produces three or more US comics a month. I mean at that frequency we’re just talking mental effluvium at best; it’s not writing at that point it’s just words. Now, I don’t think Michael Carroll’s at that point yet, but then nor do I wish him to reach that point. This strip centres on Galen DeMarco a character introduced in the main Dredd strip who graduated to her own series. As a character I can’t say she she’s been terribly consistently written but then again last time I saw her she had a talking ape as a companion.  Said ape is notable by his absence so he probably died and we had a sad ape death scene which I missed, which is a shame as I am a sucker for sad ape death scenes. But enough about me! Here DeMarco is helping a bunch of Judges with some weird beast-robot things which might be connected to that TRIFECTA storyline? It’s not terribly clear. Anyway something breaks out and the size of the panels taken together with the  fact that the best last words two successive Judges can come up with at the point of death is a bare bones “No!” suggest Michael Carroll wasn’t going for the Nobel with this one. A harsher judge than I would declare it a bit of a page waster, but then I guess they wouldn’t find sufficient pleasure in Steve Yeowell’s lanky B&W stylings to raise it to OKAY!

DREDD (Willsher, Wyatt, Blythe & Bowland)

This is a Judge Dredd strip set in the cinematic universe of Judge Dredd. I don’t understand why that is because the cinematic universe of Judge Dredd is precisely one movie which wasn’t popular enough for a sequel. It was also a normalised version of Judge Dredd. It was okay and all; I enjoyed it. Thankfully it fed that Stallone fiasco into the woodchipper but it didn’t dethrone the original strip in my mind. It was a good movie, probably suffered from being released in such close proximity to the (similar but superior) THE RAID but, yeah, I enjoyed it. This strip seemed okay too, like if you wanted to read Judge Dredd but didn’t want to actually read proper Judge Dredd because, gee, it’s all a bit far-fetched. So in this one all the kit is more functional and the swears are normal and, me, I don’t find that as much fun. There’s a suspicion in my head that it might be repackaged at some point by IDW as it seems oriented to the American market in terms of pacing and storytelling. OKAY!

WUXTRY! Shrink-wrapped with this issue is a free magazine type Graphic Novel. This time out it’s Synnamon: Mecha Rising. I didn’t have time to read it but I do remember reading it back in the day, and for a strip about a leather jump suit lady burglar in the future it was OKAY! Undemanding entertainment slickly delivered. I think the important thing here is that you get a free magazine of reprints, and given 2000AD’s storied history chances are good that this will pay off more often than not.

DARK HORSE PRESENTS #18 Art by Craig Rousseau, Dennis Calero, Julius Gopez, Carla Speed McNeil, Marc Olivent, David Chelsea, Tim Hamilton Written by Rich Woodall, Dennis Calero, Shawn Aldridge, Carla Speed McNeil, Barbara Randall Kesel, David Chelsea, Paul Levitz Coloured by Lawrence Bassa, Jeremy Colwell, Jenn Manley Lee, David Chelsea Lettered by Rich Woodall, John J. Hill, Carla Speed McNeil, Adam O. Pruett, David Chelsea Spot Illustrations by Geoff Darrow Cover by Craig Rousseau & Lawrence Basso Kyyra: Alien Jungle Girl TM © 2016 Craig Rousseau and Rich Woodall The Suit TM©2016 Dennis Calero Last Act TM © 2016 Shawn Alridge Finder TM © 2016 Lightspeed Press Sundown Crossroads TM© 2016 Barbara Kesel Sandy and Mandy TM © 2016 David Chelsea Brooklyn Blood TM © Paul Levitz and Tim Hamilton Shaolin Cowboy and related characters TM © Geoff Darrow Dark Horse Comics, Inc., $4.99 (2016)

KYRRA: ALIEN JUNGLE GIRL (Rousseau, Woodall & Basso)

This is an absolutely gorgeous strip, done in a robustly fun style saturated in E-number colours, seemingly aimed at Young Adults which repositions Tarzan as a young girl and the setting as an alien planet. I’ve already read Tarzan and I’m neither Young nor an Adult so it left me pretty cold. The art by Rousseau is thoroughly charming though. It’s OKAY! but like a lot of comics today it’s pretty thin stuff once past the delightful art. Still, it’s nice that there’s a strip about a Cave Girl that’s not drawn by Frank Cho just so that men can fap over it and show those SJWs what’s what. Progress of a sort there. Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

THE SUIT: CONTRACT NEGOTIATION (Calero & Hill)

This is CRAP! This is the second run of this consistently poor series in DHP. I don’t know who asked for it back but when I find out they’ll get the sharp end of my tongue.  Every time this thing appears I just have no idea what I’m looking at on most of its pages, and when I do know what I’m looking at it’s some kind of unholy show involving photos of the two old blokes from TRADING PLACES and Don Draper. Not entirely sure if they are making love or fighting or what. Oh wait, there’s a ‘Nam flashback. Thank Christ for that. C'mon, Was everybody in America over in The ‘Nam or what? Did it not get crowded? I’m not saying ‘Nam flashbacks are overused but, yes, yes I am saying exactly that. Even my son talks about being in “The Shit” and getting back to “The World” and he’s 10 and has never been further than St Ives. And far be it from me to say that Calero is into photo referencing too heavily, but if it was cocaine we’d be calling for an intervention. Oh, mercy, mercy me (the ecology), this is just visual noise; a cacophony of blurry clip art. The passage of every poorly executed page makes Alex Maleev look more and more like Frank Robbins. I don’t want to be a big shitter here, but this should never have seen print. I just. I don’t. What. It’s. No. Just no.

LAST ACT (Gopez, Aldridge & Colwell)

It would be easy to take the Mick out of this overly earnest and somewhat overwrought attempt to graft some meaning onto the superhero trope, but since it was pretty refreshing to find anyone doing anything remotely interesting with the superhero trope I’ll let it off with an OKAY! Although it did not escape my irony detectors that this was basically a strip in which a superhero makes a man called John feel better by misrepresenting reality to him. Which is basically my childhood reading habits: redux.

FINDER: CHASE THE LADY (Speed McNeil & Lee)

Carla Speed McNeil is EXCELLENT! Everything Carla Speed McNeil does is EXCELLENT! Her horse radish soup is EXCELLENT! I know because I go through her bins at night, but respectfully and not in a creepy way. And guess what? Her bins are EXCELLENT! The fact that she enjoyed that movie with Keanu Reeves on a bus so much that she legally adopted its title into her name is EXCELLENT! It’s possible Carla Speed McNeil has done some things which weren’t EXCELLENT! but I’m not privy to them so they don’t exist. FINDER is EXCELLENT! Even though in chunks this small and separated by whole months, my aged brain is struggling to stitch them all together into a coherent narrative, I have every faith such a thing will come to pass, and so the very strength of faith I have in Carla Speed McNeil’s being EXCELLENT! is EXCELLENT! in and of itself. Even Carla Speed McNeil’s colours, a softly vibrant balm for the eyes, are EXCELLENT! And that’s from someone so thuggishly impervious to colour he still doesn’t understand why Sam Neill is so upset on that bus in IN THE MOUTH OF MADNESS. And, no, Sam and Carla Speed are not related because Sam has an extra “l” in his surname, but had they been related I think we can all agree that that would have been EXCELLENT! Anyway, this was OKAY! Just joking, it was EXCELLENT! Oh my, what an EXCELLENT! joke.

SUNDOWN CROSSROADS (Olivent, Kesel & Pruett)

The best thing about this strip is that, well, I don’t know about you but sometimes I wake up in the night drenched in sweat worrying about whether we’re going to make it, you know, as a species. After reading SUNSET CROSSROADS I’ll probably sleep a little easier as it introduces the entirely new thought into the equation that maybe it’d be better for all concerned if we don’t. Ugh. This is some heroically twee balderdash right here.  I can make up the cover blurbs for the collection of this thing now: “With SUNSET CROSSROADS Barbara Kesel has vajazzled the soul of a generation!” - Kelly Sue DeConnick! “Something about dreams. Something about stories. SUNSET CROSSROADS is something something something.” - Neil Gaiman! The strip itself privileges us with a peek into the life of some kind of self-satisfied meringue brain wafting about her apartment, talking smug bunkum via a live podcast to people whose minds can only be little miracles of inanity. Now, my viscerally negative reaction could be due to envy as this conceited poltroon obviously makes a lot of money talking star-spangled claptrap and peddling her tat online since her apartment is bigger than my house. She doesn’t leave it either, that apartment; for the duration of the strip we are trapped inside with her and her incessant prattle; it’s like some terrible punishment. She only pauses when she spies outside what looks hilariously like Sean Philips on the street below. Sean’s minding his own business (probably getting some fresh air to clear his head before returning to the latest listless yet craft-fat script from Ed Brubaker) but our ethereal dream queen drags poor Sean into her nauseatingly precious monologue and he returns the favour by dragging her into her PC. Spooky stuff! I can tell the strip failed because my first thought as she disappeared into her monitor was “good”, not “ooh, I wonder what happens next.” I can probably live the rest of my life quite contentedly without knowing what happened to that frivolous void of a creature. Ugh. The best thing about the strip is the art, but even then in one panel the self-obsessed buffoon’s head is about four sizes too large for the body it bobbles above; which I can only hope is the artist having a cheeky laugh at the expense of the swell headed heroine. Basically, and I’m not sure if I made this clear, I’m probably not the audience for this one as I couldn’t give less of a shit about Steve Jobs and Subway makes me angry because if I wanted to make my own ****ing sandwich I’d have made my own ****ing sandwich! Basically, I am a bit of a throwback; you’d have to have your head further up the arse of the 21st Century than I’ll ever manage in order to appreciate this. That does, however, mean it is possible someone might not think SUNDOWN CROSSROADS is AWFUL!

SANDY AND MANDY (Chelsea)

If David Chelsea wants to put his elegantly precise Winsor McCay-isms to use in immaculately illustrating a sedately paced cascade of jokes which veer giddily from the hilarious to eye-rolling howlers then who shall say him nay? Not I, sir. Not I. VERY GOOD!

BROOKLYN BLOOD (Hamilton, Levitz & Pruett)

Brawklynn! BRAWK-LYNNN! People are super-proud of living in Brooklyn aren’t they? Well, people who live in BREWK-LARYNN! Seem to be. Doesn’t Jimmy “Spats” Palmiotti cahm frawm BRAHK-LAHYNNNA? I don’t know, but he should. I do know that BROKE-LIE-IN! is supposed to be one of those places that has mystique (not the naked blue lady) but all I can think of is the smell of fried onions, small boys in old men's caps selling papers on street corners and pigeon coops on rooftops. Is that BRAWK-LYNNN!? (I don’t care really. I’m just humouring them.) So, yes, BREWK-LYNNE is special, and so are you if you live there, but moving on…a lot of people criticise the American police and, you know, sometimes they have a point but, personally, I think the brunt of the blame should be borne by their Human Resources Department. I realise it’s not the sexiest of Police Departments but, still, there’s no excuse for such laxity. Who keeps signing off as fit for duty all these blackout drunks, PTSD sufferers, psychics, aliens and blind tap dancers who festoon their fictional ranks?  Yes, here we are again in the aisle marked “Damaged White Men With Guns” (next to the corn, above the beets), what’s not to love! This is the second (maybe; I don’t care enough to look) episode of this exciting new series which is exactly like every other cop series about a traumatised cop, but with “‘Nam” scratched out and “Iraqistaniraq” written above it. Despite there having been two murders most of the page time has been spent watching the mentally disordered white guy roll around in the street being distressed by phantom firefights. Which is okay, because murder’s pretty shabby but the real crime is how war fucks up white guys. Mind you, I am quite impressed with how clean American streets are; if you roll around in the ones near me you’d end up covered in dog poop and cig butts. Possibly the odd unlucky hedgehog. But then I don’t live in BRAWK-LYNNN! This strip is some bizarre stuff; the damaged white guy basically can’t walk down the street without hallucinating he’s in Call of Duty (but 4Realz!!) and his partner just dusts him off and puts him to bed. Go to sleep, tiny nutcase. The main draw here is the art by Tim Hamilton which has that generosity of ink I like and there’s also something fun happening with the colours; they get all luridly rhubarb purple and custardy yellow when there’s a catastrophic flashback, but I also like the subtlety in the bed scene where he dials it right back.  Maybe this strip is some kind of post-modern piss take of clichéd cop crap and every episode they’ll discover a body and the white cop will roll about and his not-white (obviously) partner will be all sensible, and it’ll just keep going like that with the bodies turning up in ever more ludicrous places and his mania taking on more and more extreme forms. By episode six they’ll be attending a murder in a clown school and he’ll be throwing poop at the local Shriners. In reality it’s probably just going to be more EH! but in BREWK-LYNN!

What am I giving up for Lent? I don’t know but it won’t be – COMICS!!!

“We’re JUDGES – We Can Do Any Damn Thing We WANT.” COMICS! Sometimes It’s A Clear Cut Case of Rather You Than Me, Dear.

I only had time to write about one comic this time. Sorry. But do please feel free to all club together and make me independently wealthy. I’ll probably manage, oooh, three comics then. Gee, thanks for thinking about it, anyway. This time I continue to big up The Home Side by looking at the very latest issue of 2000AD. It might only be one comic, but it’s a fresh ‘un! Hmm, still breathing so it is! JUDGE DREDD by Sexton, Carroll, O’Grady & Parkhouse

Anyway, this. 2000AD Prog 1965 Art by Mark Sexton, Richard Elson, Clint Langley, John Burns, Carlos Ezquerra Written by Michael Carroll, Dan Abnett, Pat Mills, Kek-W, John Wagner Coloured by Len O’Grady Lettered by Annie Parkhouse, Ellie De Ville, Simon Bowland Cover by Cliff Robinson(a) & Dylan Teague(c) JUDGE DREDD created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner KINGDOM created by Richard Elson & Dan Abnett ABC WARRIORS created by Kevin O’Neill, Brendan McCarthy, Mick McMahon & Pat Mills THE ORDER created by John Burns & Kek-W STRONTIUM DOG created by Carlos Ezquerra Rebellion, £2.55, weekly (2016)

You know, it has belatedly occurred to me that I have, characteristically, set off on this whole 2000AD thing more than a little half-cocked. So here are the answers to a few questions I should have probably addressed at the very start of this pointless exercise:

1) It’s all a bit creaky isn’t it? Why don’t they update it? You know, give some characters cancer, or a womb, or both even? Make one into a womb that fires cancers, even? Maybe give them those ridiculous beards Ver Kids are sporting these days? Why? Oh, why? Oh, why, oh why, oh why?

I admit I too was a little surprised and not a little dismayed on my return to the Galaxy’s Greatest Comic, after a hiatus of some 8 years, only to find that just one series was unfamiliar to me (THE ORDER). Truth to tell, it did occur to me to start wailing, gnashing my teeth and rending my garments over the lack of original concepts on show. However, I just couldn’t be bothered. (I suffer from idleitis, a recognised medical condition named by my Mum.) This, for once, was to my advantage. Because in the meantime it occurred to me that at present Marvel©™®’s biggest selling comics (to Retailers) are based on the popular children’s entertainment STAR WARS. Which, despite it currently thrilling the easily thrilled with a fresh instalment in cinemas right now, started off in 1977 as did 2000AD. More than likely 2000AD’s inception was hastened, if not occasioned, by the blockbuster success of the popular children’s entertainment STAR WARS. Both of them were pretty derivative as well. STAR WARS, the popular children’s entertainment, being basically Kurosawa’s HIDDEN FORTRESS (1958) with the dogfight from 633 SQUADRON (1964) bolted on the back. But in space! And with some New Age bum chunder about The Force! (Peter Cushing’s performance is ****ing immaculate, however.) While 2000AD in its rather more vulgar turn smashed and grabbed with abandon from hither and yon to great success, mainly by adding lashings of violence with a topping of topicality. In 2016 the only Force the popular children’s entertainment STAR WARS cares about is that of the market, so while 2000AD might still be trotting out Judge Dredd, ABC Warriors and Strontium Dog it wins, because they are good comics and have progressed within themselves. Basically, until 2000AD gives up the creative ghost completely and just becomes a billion dollar advert for toys and ancillary revenue streams across multiple platforms (UGH!) we’ll let it off. As for DC©™®, their biggest sales (to Retailers) are currently based on Batman, who was created in circa 1938, so they can’t point any fingers either. Sticking a hipster beard on Shaggy isn’t a paradigm shifter, you know, DC©™®. And, yeah, what is it with those beards. The beards on The Kids these days. I mean, seriously, kids. It’s like I woke up one day and I was in Philip K Dick’s THE MAN IN THE HIGH CASTLE; every third youth looks like a U-Boat commander on shore leave. What’s that all about? Sort yourselves out.

Picture thieved from Getty Images ("It's Not an Image, Unless it's a Getty!")

2) John, you complacent oaf, you failed to tell us why it is called 200AD in the Year of Our Lord 2016AD. So do that! NOW!

Okay, sure, it might seem odd that the comic is still called 2000AD since it is now 2016AD; so what was once, in 1977, unthinkably futuristic is now quaintly dated. I can assure you though that as the millennium loomed much discussion was had regarding the comic’s name in the letter pages, and several alternatives were indeed considered (2001AD, 2050AD, 3000AD, “Geoffrey”, probably even 2525AD (you know, if man is still alive, if woman can survive)) . In the end they stuck with what everyone knew. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”, we say over here, which is why Britain is a world leader in innovation. Me, I would have gone with 3000AD myself, plenty of future-proofing (ugh!), see, but there you go. No one listens to me. Which is why we don’t live in a Socialist Utopia, and 2000AD is still called 2000AD in 2016AD. In their defence part of the fun of watching something like ESCAPE FROM NEW YORK is admittedly that bit where it comes up with “1997 – NOW!” at the beginning. Also, whenever I visit my parents to remind them why they wish they had remained childless, I always pass this hairdressers called HAIR2000. That’s 16 years out of date as well, and nevertheless there are still women in there getting their rinses blued. (I have always wanted to ring people up for a night out and say “Let’s all meet up at HAIR2000.” But I don’t have any friends; largely because of jokes like that. And the fact I’m a big prick.) I guess the lesson here is: quality of content trumps a name, or 2000AD is such a strong brand that…ugh, sorry I passed out there. Anyway, amusing as I find HAIR2000, it’s not my favourite shop name; I once spotted a dress shop called SOPHIE’S CHOICE. Nice.

3) Is 2000AD really edited by a green alien from Betelgeuse called Tharg The Mighty?

Yes.

Picture ganked from Down The Tubes

I hope that answers your questions anyway because if it didn’t, tough titty.

Meanwhile…back at the comics.

JUDGE DREDD by Sexton, Carroll, O’Grady & Parkhouse

The pace of JUDGE DREDD (Sexton/Carroll/O’Grady/Parkhouse) continues to resemble my feet after I accompanied my son (“Gil”) and his Cub pack on a walk around Carsington Reservoir – blistering. Following The Set-Up (Ep. 1) and The Big Fight (Ep. 2) episode 3 of Ghosts is the investigative bit; the procedural part if you will. Because, no, contrary to popular misconception Judge Dredd doesn’t typically just ride up and shoot the perp du jour in the face and give with a quip; there’s more to it than that (unless it’s that regrettably dunderheaded Dredd run where Mark Millar and Grant Morrison were in charge). Here we get the bit where Dredd acts like a **** for the Greater Good. Since the Western mind set seems to currently be a trifle crypto-fascist, I should probably point out that we aren’t really supposed to be cheering Dredd on as he psychologically tortures an innocent woman to draw out the wrong ‘uns. Sure, it looks like it’s worked but at what cost; every action has an equal and opposite reaction, as Ray Palmer reminds us in that Godawful DKIII:TMR comic. And I think that’s true morally too. I do. I haven’t got any proof mind, but that’s rarely prevented anyone from voicing their opinion. Anyway, Nietzsche’s just popped in to remind us that “He who fights too long against dragons becomes a dragon himself”. Thanks, Fred. Nice ‘tache! Stay away from piano stools, now! Anyway, in this issue Joe gets a bit scalier and Mark Sexton continues to impress with his balance of detail and clarity; although I think he could make his Dredd a bit more iconic, you know, if I had to whine about something. VERY GOOD!

KINGDOM by Elson, Abnett & De Ville

Now, I’m not saying the events so far in KINGDOM (Elson/Abnett/De Ville) test my patience exactly, but it is a bit like if after The Big Badness your nan wanted a biscuit with her Sour Grass Tea and you went out into The Big Dusty and after a hundred yards came upon a fully operational Fox’s biscuit factory. Massively convenient might be the term. Because it turns out that Gene and his pack have found exactly what they need to outrun the swarm and get back to warn the folks at home. Not only that but only Gene can operate it. Yes, I’d say massively convenient might do it. Which is fine because KINGDOM is just breezy action based larks, so it can get away with massively convenient. Not least because Elson’s art has a detail and a crispness which is never less than impressive. OKAY!

ABC WARRIORS by Langley, Mills & Parkhouse

In the letters page there’s a bit of a kerfuffle over Pat Mills, as no less than two of the three letters therein find exception with the fact that Mills’ stories always basically end up being the same, no matter what colourful character fronts them. i.e. an uncouth Rip The System! riff with some clumsy exposition, endearingly silly wordplay and the odd off-colour joke chucked in. As a criticism it’s perfectly valid, and I can certainly see their point. However, it misses the larger point that the burden isn’t on Pat Mills to change the stories he tells, but for society to sort itself out so that Pat Mills no longer has to tell these stories. Come on, Society, pull your finger out and let’s see what Pat Mills has to say when we’ve all stopped ****ing each other over. Until such time I for one am more than happy for Pat Mills’ comics to remain perpetually chanting the lyrics to Soft Cells’ Best Way to Kill. Oh yeah, babies of the beard, raise your voices high, “…like a badge on a blazer at school – TEAR IT OFF!! RIP IT UP!! Stick your two fingers up at the world!” If you want comics about ****ing nothing you’re spoilt for choice, so in the meantime, personally speaking, I’m perfectly happy for Pat Mills and the Warriors to continue to age disgracefully. This week ABC WARRIORS (Langley/Mills/Parkhouse) continues to explore the (REALLY unlikely) idea that The System might exploit the fear of terrorism in order to pursue its own agenda of repression and profit. (Which is just CRAZY TALK!) As fantastical a notion as that is (I mean, AS IF!) it makes for very good fiction. On art Clint Langley manages to make a bunch of robots and wreckage extraordinarily atmospheric and expressive, despite the fact that that must be very difficult to do. And I greatly enjoyed his off-kilter choice to sparsely spot colour the odd bit here and there with a queasy green and a rosy red. VERY GOOD!

THE ORDER by Burns, Kek-W & De Ville

Although THE ORDER (Burns/Kek-W/De Ville) is set in the 1580s the odd burst of computer speak blaring out of the mystified face of our fiery headed lead (“10 print john rules ok [RETURN] 20 goto 10 [RETURN]”, he doesn’t say) suggests a futuristic aspect to the strip yet to be clearly revealed. Because I have a mind so finely honed that it would shame a VIC20, I think I have already sussed the twist. The clue is in its dung studded, infrastructure light setting in which squats a scrofulous population of downtrodden paupers, through which privileged fops can cut a swathe, thanks to the heavily armed police acting as their personal militia. Clearly, we are in fact in the future and the year 1580AD is actually 1580 After Dave, because when Tories dream it is this they dream of. And every day that dream comes closer. Or maybe my mind was tip-toeing through its own tulips because the whole thing was a bit generic for me, and the only solid pleasure was seeing what the estimable John Burns did with colour; just a really arresting series of loose washes which sometimes don’t even stay within the lines, and are often quite minimal in their range of shade within a single panel. Yet, always, always he takes pains to mark out the protagonist’s barnet with a blob of red. John Burns is great. Burns, baby, Burns! OKAY!

STRONTIUM DOG by Ezquerra, Wagner & Bowland

Okay, I was initially underwhelmed by the ease with which Johnny Alpha and his mutant chums pulled off their heist in STRONTIUM DOG (Ezquerra/Wagner/Bowland). But on reflection since it did depend on the ability to stretch one’s arm like reed Richards’ can only dream it was probably a lot more difficult than it looked. Plus, this is the lulling section of every heist movie. The bit where things get a bit tense but the objective is achieved. PHEW! we all exclaim in relief as Danny Ocean hides inside the guard’s anus with the crown jewels, and is walked safely out of the building to a sloppy but enriching exit. Things start getting interesting after this bit, where in all likelihood we'll get the Strontium Dog equivalent of Andy Garcia jumping out of the guard’s sock and threatening to flush the loo unless the newly excreted Danny Ocean gives him his career back. Or something. I forget; OCEAN'S ELEVEN was okay but I prefer that 2001 David Mamet heist movie. The one with Gene Hackman, Delroy Lindo and Danny DeVito doing a heist. It's a good heist movie. I wish I could remember what it was called, that heist movie. Anyway, STRONTIUM DOG this week is all smooth reading from both script and art, as the old pros Wagner & Ezquerra go back for one more job. Most likely though all the goodwill I felt was down to Kid Knee reappearing, and his being just as endearingly fractious as ever. GOOD!

NEXT TIME: I’ll hopefully look at more than one comic because that’ll mean I can use the plural which is – COMICS!!!

“Like Turds in Rain...” COMICS! Sometimes I Act My Shoe-Size Not My Age.

Abhay's below this, so don't dilly dally, and certainly don't shilly shally, go there! Do it NOW! Me, I'm still trying to get regular, so here's another go at that. There's a lot of toilet humour in this one. It's the only industry we have left. DKIII by Risso, Azzarello, Mulvihill & Robins

Anyway, this... SIR: The critics? No, I have nothing but compassion for them. How can I hate the crippled, the mentally deficient, and the dead? The Dresser by Ronald Harwood

2000AD Prog 1964 Art by Mark Sexton, Richard Elson, John Burns, Clint Langley, Carlos Ezquerra Written by Michael Carroll, Dan Abnett, Kek-W, Pat Mills, John Wagner Colours by Len O'Grady,the artists Lettered by Annie Parkhouse, Ellie De Ville, Simon Bowland JUDGE DREDD created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner KINGDOM created by Richard Elson & Dan Abnett THE ORDER created by John Burns & Kek-W ABC WARRIORS created by Kevin O'Neill, Brendan McCarthy, Mick Mcmahon & Pat Mills STRONTIUM DOG created by Carlos Ezquerra & John Wagner Rebellion, £2.55 weekly (2016)

Borag Thungg! Another week, another issue of the Galaxy's Greatest Comic! This week in Judge Dredd (Sexton/Carroll/O'Grady/Parkhouse) the decision is taken to devote the bulk of the seven page installment to a quite bloody and brutal action sequence which leaves Dredd on the edge of death. Also, some plot developments. It's a salutary reminder that when a Judge goes wrong that's way more dangerous than just your average perp. As seven pages go it's lean, mean, gory and crunchily executed stuff. Two parts in and “Ghosts” is shaping up VERY GOOD!

DREDD by Sexton, Carroll, O'Grady & Parkhouse

KINGDOM (Elson/Abnett/DeVille) takes time out from hurtling about hither and yon for a quick plot stop. Some fruity swears and mysterious discoveries later the strip is tanked back up with motivation enough to hurtle off, in the final panel of the fifth page, into what promises to be a more typically action orientated episode. Elson art possesses a crisp precision and Abnett's script remains fundamentally derivative but still just original enough to provide undemanding fun. OKAY!

KINGDOM by Elson, Abnett & DeVille

Alas, the major question raised by THE ORDER (Burns/Kek-W/DeVille) so far is what exactly was achieved by the steampunk motorbike that could not have been achieved by a horse. So, obviously this one's not exactly pulling me in. It's not terrible though. And that's despite groan inducing clichés such as the masked rescuer being revealed to be a stunningly beautiful lady (and unless Boots The Chemist was operating in 1560 then her make up skills are a tad anachronistic). As if in balance there's a nifty bit of dialogue on the fifth and final page (the “...empircal evidence..” bit). That alone is enough to leave me optimistic that the ideas underpinning the series will eventually be revealed to have been worth the more predictable stretches. OKAY!

THE ORDER by Burns, Kek-W & De Ville

Last week, while struggling to make sense in a short space of time, I , somewhat tenuously I thought, mentioned Blade Runner in connection with the mek-nificent ones. This week Serendipity, obviously in a playful mood, shocks my socks of by having Pat Mills rejig the Roy Batty death speech everyone loves from that selfsame movie, but puts it in the foul mouth of an ailing Ro-Jaws and, thus, appropriately enough, fixes up the references within it to those of a somewhat more scatological stripe. Reader, I larfed. One of the many things I respond to in Pat Mills' writing is his unselfconscious embrace of puerility. It's particularly prevalent in ABC Warriors and is always welcome. In a strip where the authorities (who have been searching for Hammerstein) have just cottoned on to the fact that that robot that looks just like Hammerstein but with a different head is in fact Hammerstein but with a different head, having a giant robot referencing David Lynch films and also yelling about “Big Jobs!” is probably more of a help than a hindrance. (Note for Children of The Now: “Big jobs” was used to refer to babies going “Number Two” back in the day, back in the UK.) Clint Langley's art looks like it's all taking place inside an active bowel and so is perfectly appropriate. VERY GOOD!

ABC WARRIORS by Langley, Mills & Parkhouse

You know the bit in every heist movie where the heist gets underway and it's a matter of watching the protagonists evade detection before things go wrong? This week's STRONTIUM DOG (Ezquerra/Wagner/Bowland) is that bit of the heist movie. The fun here is that instead of using specialist equipment provided by a character actor in a minor but showy role, they use their mutant abilities (stretchy arms, super strong fingers, x-ray vision, a Keegan perm, a bumpy heid, etc) and there is still time for a good joke about where one would hide the scared brain of a bizarre cult's founder. Ezquerra's art remains so flawlessy devoted to storytelling it never even hints at the effort and experience underpinning every panel. VERY GOOD!

STRONTIUM DOG by Ezquerra, Wagner & Bowland

DKIII THE MASTER RACE BOOK TWO Based on THE DARK KNIGHT RETURNS by Frank Miller, Lynn Varley & Klaus Janson (although once again DC only identify Frank Miller as the author. Tsk. Tsk.) Art by Andy Kubert, Klaus Janson, Eduardo Risso Story by Frank Miller & Brian Azzarello Lettered by Clem Robins Colours by Brad Anderson, Trish Mulvihill Cover by Andy Kubert & Brad Anderson Variant Covers by Frank Miller & Alex Sinclair, Klaus Janson & Brad Anderson, Jim Lee, Scott Williams & Alex Sinclair, Cliff Chiang, Eduardo Risso & Trish Mulvihill Retailer variant cover by Sean Gordon Murphy & Matt Hollingsworth, Greg Capullo & FCO Plascenia Convention Variant Cover by Jill Thompson DC Comics, $5.99 Standard/$12.99 Deluxe (2016) Batman cteated by Bill Finger & Bob Kane

If nothing else this series has proved to be a thought provoking one. The thought it has provoked in my tiny mind is exactly how bad does the writing in a comic have to get before everyone stops just waving it through? Because the writing in this comic is astoundingly poor. I've not read any other reviews because I don't accidentally want to steal anyone else's thoughts, but unless those reviews point out first and foremost how utterly craptabulous the writing is I'd hesitate to trust anything they have to say. Because, ugh. I mean, ew. Someone wrote this with a big brown crayon, allright. It's no wonder they're so keen to drag Frank Miller's name into it. It's basically the same as blaming the old dog in the corner when you fart in company. “Man, this comic is carved out of stupid!”,“Dang, must be Frank Miller's fault!”Classy behaviour, guys. You know (of course you don't, what a stupid way to start a sentence) I was in the cinema recently, and during the performance someone broke wind next to me. Now let me tell you that was one blue ribbon winner of a fart and no mistake. It was like someone had just put a Sunday dinner under my nose. You ever smell a fart that smelt like you could chew it? This was that fart. It was a heroic achievement, to which I doff my cap; respect is due to someone who can create something like that. However, before we get carried away let's remember it was still just a fart. DKIII:TMR is the comic book equivalent of that fart. It's stink is mighty. Impressively so. But it's still just a big stink.

DKIII by Kubert, Janson, Azzarello, Anderson & Robins

Oh, that's a bit much, John! Really? Have you read this? Tell me, what is not cretinous about Batman's plan to make the world think he is dead? Let me just recap it for you: After an absence of three years during which the world has probably started to stop thinking about him, Batman rides his Bat-cycle into the middle of Gotham. He then proceeds to engage in a pitched battle with the Gotham PD. At some point the media notice and Batman's return is plastered across every TV screen in the world. Batman suddenly has an asthma attack and collapses. At this point it is revealed that Batman is in fact a young girl dressed as Batman, and she collapsed due to grief and exhaustion rather than a respiratory condition marked by attacks of spasm in the bronchi of the lungs. She is taken into custody and says nothing for twenty seven days, in which time the media speculate about Batman's whereabouts to its heart's content. On the twenty seventh day the girl tells a thoroughly unconvincing story about how Batman died (in bed; maudlin, bed-bound and old). Usually the police would require a body, they are funny like that. But they just take this girl's word, as you would. With Batman now ineradicably on everyone's mind it's a masterstroke of idiocy to have the young girl sprung by the sudden appearance of a massive Bat-Tank, which trashes the part of the GPD which isn't already in traction before disappearing in a thoroughly ill-defined way. Obviously, having now convinced the world of his death Batman is now free to act. Given his fantastic plan to make the world forget him, his first act will probably be to soil himself and dance the Macarena. Christ. Batman the tactical genius there.

DKIII by Kubert, Janson, Azzarello, Anderson & Robins

That ridiculous horseshit takes up most of the first and second issues but there's still room in this one for Ray Palmer to say something science-y (but not too demandingly science-y) and act like a Batman level moron. Because at no point - AT NO POINT - does it occur to Ray Palmer that introducing to the planet Earth a city full of people who can fly, fire fire out of their eyes and probably fart mustard gas to boot, might be less than stellar thinking. Jean left you because you were an idiot, Ray. There might be pages of this comic which don't insult the reader's intelligence but I couldn't recall any. What about the art? People don't talk about the art! Why should I say anything about the art when the writing is this bad. The writing here is ruinously bad. But okay, Kubert as ever manages that trick of being both fussy and lazy, while in the mini-comic Eduardo Risso's deep contrast talents are wasted on something so superfluous it's barely there. But really, what matters the art when a character describes herself as Batman's “prick”? “I was his PRICK.”, she says. Nice dire-logue, Brian Azzarello! “I was his PRICK.”, she says. She says was an old man's prick. What does that even mean, Brian Azzarello? That she got him up at odd times during the night for a piss? Boom, and indeed, BOOM!

DKIII by Risso, Azzarello, Mulvihill & Robins

See, the real problem is that this utter drivel is soaking up attention better used on other comics. There are too many comics today, and the good ones risk getting lost in the crush. Instead of writing about Brian Azzarello and Andy Kubert's futile attempt to polish the stale turds of greater talents I should have been writing about, say, MONSTRESS, STRAY BULLETS, ISLAND, EGOs, RAGNAROK and SPONGEBOB COMICS. All of which are probably struggling to survive while this bloated, brainless and thoroughly unnecessary thing flails about attracting everyone's attention. I mean, I don't need to write about this comic do I? Everyone else will already have alerted you to how fundamentally poor it is. (Won't they?) Look, my complaint isn't even that DKIII:TMR isn't a Frank Miller comic; it's that DKIII:TMR is CRAP!

DKIII by Kubert, Janson, Azzarello, Anderson & Robins

NEXT TIME: On September 28th 2015 at 10:44 am “Peter” asked if I would be looking at the US attempts to “do” Judge Dredd. In 2016, he will have his answer! (SPOILER: It's “yes” and it's next up, thanks to my library.) I may be tardy but I will eventually get around to your - COMICS!!!

“I've Had Mair Exciting Enemas.” COMICS! Sometimes It's The Comics of Tomorrow – TODAY!

Hey, I finally realised after eight years of looking at Brian (The Guv'nor) Hibbs' Shipping Lists that due to a temporal anomaly which baffles the greatest scientific minds of our times, I am able to tell the The Americas about certain comics well in advance of when they are able to read them! Or it might be because they are British comics and it takes a bit of time for them to get distributed. That's a bit mundane though isn't it? Temporal anomaly it is! So, below the line I give you The Future - NOW! JUDGE DREDD by Marshall, Carroll, Caldwell & Parkhouse

Anyway, this... For those joining us late:

2000AD is a UK anthology comic published weekly which contains usually 5 strips, each of which is given between 5 and 7 pages to strut its sci-fi themed stuff. When 2000AD (or “Tooth” as no one calls it) was first published in 1977 (Year of The Jubilee, Year of Elvis' Death, Year Zero for Punk: quite the year) this sci-fi aspect was its basic remit, but as the years have passed it has cheerfully incorporated any and all genres. Mostly though it's okay to refer to it as a weekly sci-fi anthology comic published in the UK. I was there in 1977 when it launched but I stopped reading it about 8 years ago.

Now, this wasn't because it was rubbish (I'd have stopped in the '90s if that was a problem) but because I and mine moved across the UK. Due to the speed this had to occur it was reminiscent of a movie where an ailing plane has to gain altitude to clear a mountain range and everyone throws everything out including the seats. That is to say, I had to let a large portion of my comic collection go to charity. Don't..I'll be okay...in a ...minute. Sniff! Since this included my entire run of 2000AD it seemed a good place to stop.

But then I was in the newsagent the other week and I thought why am I in the newsagent I should be in work o God have I been drinking again, no, I thought, hey it's a New Year and I can start it off by telling all those funny foreign folk about a British institution. Fair warning though, I have missed nearly a decade of issues so I might be bit rusty. Still, God loves a trier (and the odd burnt sheep) so, hey ho, let's go!

2000AD Progs #1962 & #1963 Art by Paul Marshall, Mark Sexton, Richard Elson, Clint Langley, John Burns and Carlos Ezquerra Written by Michael Carroll, Dan Abnett, Pat Mills, Kek-W and John Wagner Coloured by Gary Caldwell, Len O'Grady or the artists. Lettered by Annie Parkhouse, Ellie DeVille and Simon Bowland Rebellion, £2.25 each, every Wednesday, (2016)

JUDGE DREDD # 1962 - Street Cred Art by Paul Marshall Script by Michael Carroll Colours by Gary Caldwell Letters by Annie Parkhouse #1963 – Ghosts: 1 Art by Mark Sexton Script by Michael Carroll Colours by Len O'Grady Letters by Annie Parkhouse Judge Dredd created by John Wagner & Carlos Ezquerra

JUDGE DREDD by Sexton, Carroll, O'Grady & Parkhouse

Judge Dredd remains The Daddy of the comic, I see. The Dan Dare to 2000Ad's Eagle if you will. I was slightly discombobulated by the name Michael Carroll as I have never heard of him. Yet here he is helming the flagship character. Every now and again whoever owns 2000AD realises John Wagner is in fact just mortal and won't be around forever, so they try and groom (not in that sense) a replacement. Dredd's a tough gig and even big names can fail; those of us who suffered through it still bear the mental scars of Grant Morrison and Mark Millar's petulant turd of a run. Anyway, it looks like yer man Carroll's up for anointment this time round so let's see how that goes.

First up, he's got a done-in-one called Street Cred in which a man walks into a bar and tells everyone he's shot Judge Dredd. I'm sure I've read this same story somewhere else, about another hard-ass character who provokes fear in his enemies. Batman or Jericho, whatever. It doesn't matter as there are after all only seven stories, as anyone who has read a Book on Writing by someone no one has ever heard of can tell you. (These being: a man buys a motorbike and has to sell it because he's too old for all that leather and looks a fool, a woman buys Orla Kiely wallpaper and her child spoils it with crayons, Batman kills the Joker, a small animal finds shelter in the snow, a ultra capable female assassin is sad inside because ladies have feelings, and a man walks into a bar and tells the clientele he has shot their hated enemy.) What matters is how well Carroll tells it and he tells it well. Short and to the point, with even a touch of that distinctive dated Dredd punnery (“Roseanne's Bar” indeed.). Next up Carroll goes a bit more long-play with Ghosts which in six pages contains characterisation, pathos and action while also managing to lay out the long term plot with an efficiency that never once sacrifices atmosphere. I was impressed. In both cases Carroll is aided by artists who are talented enough to combine clarity with a distinctive style, with Marshall edging towards the Gibbons end of the spectrum and Sexton clearly dipping a toe into the pool of Darrow. VERY GOOD!

KINGDOM Beast of Eden: Two, & Three Art by Richard Elson Script by Dan Abnett Letters by Ellie De Ville

Kingdom created by Dan Abnett & Richard Elson

KINGDOM by Elson, Abnett & De Ville

KINGDOM had been around a while when I threw in the towel, but the fact is I can barely remember anything about it. I'm having trouble remembering the two parts I just read, so it's consistent if nothing else. Back in the day 2000AD used to, uh, appropriate freely from the pop culture of the time and KINGDOM continues that grand tradition by being, seemingly, Mad Max versus the aliens from Starship Troopers. What helps it stand out is the fact that the characters are all humanoid dogs who communicate using a gruffly truncated vernacular. It's very much an action strip and it does that well enough. Elson gets some energy into all the jalopy jolting, and the scale of the swarm doesn't defeat his gifts. It's not bad, just a little slight as action strips are wont to be. And for something that rips off Mad Max there's nothing as memorable as “Why, he's just a raggedy man!”, and if you're entering the Thunderdome with Mad Max you need to be able to supercede the memory of Tina Turner dressed in ring pulls and cake tins. At the very least. But, in its favour at no point is the strip quite so bland and forgettable as Tom Hardy. He likes dogs though, that Tom Hardy, maybe he'd like KINGDOM more than me. OKAY!

A.B.C. WARRIORS Return To Ro-Busters Parts Two & Three Art by Clint Langley Script by Pat Mills Letters by Annie Parkhouse ABC Warriors created by Pat Mills, Kevin O'Neill, Brendan McCarthy & Mick McMahon

ABC WARRIORS by Langley, Mills & Parkhouse

In Ridley Scott's beautiful mess Blade Runner it was posited that eventually robots would become more “human than human”. This led to spiritually troubled creatures with severe issues with their creator. Pat Mills eschews this comforting high mindedness and gives us a more realistic version of “more human than human” i.e. just as dumb, evil, weak, credulous, gifted and unexpectedly magnificent as we are. But able to eat sewage or have a big hammer for a hand. Ro-Busters are a robot rescue squad. That's it. Magnificently simple premise, and one which was elevated primarily by the pungent characterisation of the droids. Ultimately though Ro-Jaws and Hammerstein were the linchpins of the series, with Ro-Jaws being a waist-high chippy oik and Hammerstein his long suffering clenched sphincter good-soldier type pal. (Oh, Ro-Jaws and Hammerstein. You got that, right? Eat Pat Mills' dust, Brian Azzarello.) ABC WARRIORS and RO-BUSTERS remain essentially the same as they ever were because Pat Mills remains essentially the same as he ever was. Herein is the usual ebullient mooning in the face of authority, the effervescently stolid exposition, the giggling wordplay, the blunt appropriation of current affairs and the ever present, ever hopeful, entreaty for the reader to “Begin Thinking. Stop Believing.” And Clint Langley? He honourably upholds the fine tradition of artists who have been called upon to depict the mechanised milieu of ABC WARRIORS in a suitably shabby and rust scored style. ABC WARRIORS same as it ever was, so ABC WARRIORS is VERY GOOD!

THE ORDER In The Court of The Wyrmqueen Parts Two and Three Art by John Burns Script by Kek-W Letters by Ellie De Ville The Order created by Kek-W & John Burns

THE ORDER by Burns, Kek-W & De Ville

Going back to knicking from Pop culture we have The Order which reads like it was written by someone whose son plays a lot of Assassin's Creed. The unconvincingly monikered Kek-W gets points for period expletives (“swiving”; always a good one) and his romp pumps merrily along in fine fashion with the gross period detail contrasting nicely with the (purposefully) anachronistic slips. Unfortunately at the sight of a steam punk motorbike my eyes rolled so hard they rattled, so I might not be the audience for this one. Still, I'll keep reading it because the magnificent John Burns is on art duties. Burns is a genius level talent of the Old School, whose flowing linework is abetted by his painterly use of colour. Throughout this strip the main character's hair is depicted as a red blob; a move elegant in its simplicity, as it pinpoints him visually no matter how deep the murk he inhabits. A lot of the strip has a distinctly cloacal hue so old red top sticks out is what I'm saying. GOOD!

STRONTIUM DOG Repo Men Parts Two and Three Art by Carlos Ezquerra Script by John Wagner Letters by Simon Bowland Strontium Dog created by John Wagner & Carlos Ezquerra

STRONTIUM DOG by Ezquerra, Wagner & Bowland

STRONTIUM DOG is the last survivor of 2000AD's short lived companion STARLORD. Second only to Dredd in popularity it's Johnny Alpha who sees us out. Alpha died but came back. I can't recall the details but Garth Ennis/Alan Grant killed him off and John Wagner brought him back. Because everyone missed him, so why not. That's popular. Currently Johnny and his mutated muchachos are engaged in an ambitious, and somewhat convoluted, heist involving a race of beings who have become machines while inner ructions threaten to tear his gang apart. The fun of Strontium Dog is in the characters and their interaction within Wagner's lighthearted but still menacing universe. These days I see Wagner drops in exposition in a form reminiscent of the Hitchiker's Guide, but the affable action still unfolds with all the genially satisfying skill of a Dick Clement and Ian LaFrenais sitcom. But, you know, in space. And one guy's head is in his knee. Whether Wagner is Clement or LaFrenais then that makes Ezquerra the other one, because Johnny Alpha wouldn't be the same without Carlos Ezquerra's lumpy magic. VERY GOOD!

A couple of comics that are well worth reading then. Not a bad way to start off 2016. Because after all 2016 (like every year) is the year of – COMICS!!!

"Justice Has A Price. The Price Is Freedom." COMICS! Sometimes I Hesitate To Correct An Officer Of The Law But I Think You'll Find That In This Case The Price is £9.99 Fortnightly. OW!

Borag Thungg, Earthlets! Clearly I have nothing useful to do with my time because I have bodged up a master list of the JUDGE DREDD MEGA COLLECTION. As each volume is released I will update the list and the accompanying image gallery. Should I “review” a volume I will link to that volume in the list. So, interested in the JUDGE DREDD MEGA COLLECTION as “reviewed” by yours truly, then this is the list for that. Pretty clear stuff. No questions? Anyone? Good. If anyone wants me to look at a particular volume, just drop me a comment. The volumes aren't released in order so it's not like I have a sensible plan of attack. If anyone wants me to stick them where the sun don't shine I suggest you keep that sentiment to yourself, cheers. Right, that laundry won't wash itself. Pip! Pip!

JUDGE DREDD by Mick McMahon & Pat Mills

Anyway, this... JUDGE DREDD THE MEGA COLLECTION Published by Hatchette/Rebellion UK, 2014 onwards.

Judge Dredd Created by Carlos Ezquerra, John Wagner & Pat Mills

Volumes:

01 – JUDGE DREDD: AMERICA Cover by Colin MacNeil

02 – JUDGE DREDD: DEMOCRACY NOW Cover by John Higgins

03 – JUDGE DREDD: TOTAL WAR Cover by Simon Coleby

04 - JUDGE DREDD: THE DEAD MAN Cover by John Ridgway

05 - JUDGE DREDD: NECROPOLIS Cover by Carlos Ezquerra

06 - JUDGE DREDD: JUDGE DEATH LIVES Cover By Brian Bolland 07 - JUDGE DREDD: YOUNG DEATH Cover by Frazer Irving

08 – JUDGE ANDERSON: THE POSSESSED Cover by Brett Ewins

09 - JUDGE ANDERSON: ENGRAM Cover by David Roach

10 – JUDGE ANDERSON: SHAMBALLA Cover by Arthur Ranson

11 - JUDGE ANDERSON: CHILDHOOD'S END Cover by Kev Walker

12 - JUDGE ANDERSON: HALF-LIFE Cover by Arthur Ranson

13 -

14 – DEVLIN WAUGH: SWIMMING IN BLOOD Cover by Cliff Robinson

15 - DEVLIN WAUGH: CHASING HEROD Cover by Colin Wilson

16 - DEVLIN WAUGH: FETISH Cover by Cliff Robinson 17 -

18 -

19 - LOW LIFE:PARANOIA Cover by Henry Flint

20 - LOW LIFE: HOSTILE TAKEOVER Cover by D'Israeli

21 - THE SIMPING DETECTIVE Cover by Cliff Robinson

22 -

23 - JUDGE DREDD: BANZAI BATALLION Cover by Jock

24 - JUDGE DREDD: MECHANISMO Cover by Colin MacNeil

25 - JUDGE DREDD: MANDROID Cover by Kev Walker

26 - 27 -

28 - JUDGE DREDD: THE LIFE AND CRIMES OF P. J. MAYBE Cover by Cliff Robinson

29 -

30 - TARGET: JUDGE DREDD Cover by Jim Baikie

31 – JUDGE DREDD: OZ Cover by Steve Dillon

32 – JUDGE DREDD: THE CURSED EARTH Cover by Mick McMahon

33 - JUDGE DREDD: THE DAY THE LAW DIED Cover by Mick McMahon

34 - 35 -

36 – JUDGE DREDD: THE APOCALYPSE WAR Cover by Carlos Ezquerra

37 - JUDGE DREDD: JUDGEMENT DAY Cover by Carlos Ezquerra

38 - JUDGE DREDD: INFERNO Cover by Carlos Ezquerra

39 - JUDGE DREDD: WILDERLANDS Cover by Trevor Hairsine

40 - JUDGE DREDD: THE PIT Cover by Cliff Robinson

41 -

42 – JUDGE DREDD: DOOMSDAY FOR DREDD Cover by Dylan Teague

43 - JUDGE DREDD: DOOMSDAY FOR MEGA-CITY ONE Cover by Colin Wilson

44 -

45 - JUDGE DREDD: ORIGINS Cover by Brian Bolland

46 -

47 - JUDGE DREDD: TOUR OF DUTY: BACKLASH Cover by Carlos Ezquerra

48 -

49 - JUDGE DREDD: DAY OF CHAOS: THE FOURTH FACTION Cover by Henry Flint

50 – JUDGE DREDD: DAY OF CHAOS: ENDGAME Cover by Henry Flint

51 - TRIFECTA Cover by Carl Critchlow

52 - 53 - 54 -

55 – JUDGE DREDD: THE HEAVY MOB Cover by Dylan Teague

56 -JUDGE DREDD: BEYOND MEGA-CITY ONE Cover by Brendan McCarthy

57 - CALHAB JUSTICE Cover by John Ridgway

58 - 59 -

60 – HONDO-CITY JUSTICE Cover by Cliff Robinson

61 - SHIMURA Cover by Colin MacNeil 62 - 63 - 64 - 65 - 66 - 67 - CURSED EARTH KOBURN

68 - CURSED EARTH CARNAGE Cover by Anthony Williams

69 - 70 - 71 -

72 - JUDGE DREDD: THE ART OF TAXIDERMY Cover by Steve Dillon

73 - JUDGE DREDD: HEAVY METAL DREDD Cover by John Hicklenton

74

75 – JUDGE DREDD: ALIEN NATIONS Cover by Cliff Robinson

76 - JUDGE DREDD: KLEGG HAI Cover by Chris Weston

77 - JUDGE DREDD: HORROR STORIES Cover by Brett Ewins

78 -

79 - JUDGE DREDD: INTO THE UNDERCITY Cover by Tiernen Trevallion

80 - JUDGE DREDD: DARK SIDE OF THE MOON Cover by Brian Bolland

Judge Dredd! He is the – COMICS!!!

"ARRRRRRRRUUUUGGGH!" COMICS! Sometimes I Should Have Probably Just Watched Valley of the Gwangi Instead!

There’s a new JURASSIC PARK movie out! I’m not particularly bothered! I won’t be going to see it! But I did read a comic adaptation of the first movie! So why waste happenstance! And that’s about as zeity as my geisty gets.

JURASSIC PARK by Kane & Perez, Simonson, Workman & Smith Anyway, this… JURASSIC PARK#1 -4 Art by Gil Kane & George Perez Written by Walter Simonson Lettered by John Workman Coloured by Tom Smith Based on the screenplay by David Koepp Based on the novel by Michael Crichton and on adaptations by Michael Crichton & Malia Scotch Marmo TOPPS COMICS, $2.95ea (1993)

In 1978 Michael Crichton wrote and directed the entertaining slice of speculative hooey WESTWORLD. This had robots run amuck in a theme park. Because genius cannot be hurried it would take Crichton a further 12 years to come up with the idea of replacing the robots with dinosaurs, which he did in his 1990 novel JURASSIC PARK. It would take a further 3 years before Steven “ALWAYS” Spielberg would deliver the technically innovative but peculiarly unsatisfying movie of the same name. As a tie-in the short lived TOPPS Comics threw this four issue adaptation out into the world. Several years later I bought them off E-Bay because I saw Gil Kane’s name on the listing. Last week I found them in the garage and finally read them. Which brings up to date, I think. I haven’t read the book so I’m not getting into that. I am as scientific as a chimp so I’m not getting into that either. But I do know I don’t really like JURASSIC PARK the movie and I know that because I’ve never owned it. And this is from a man who owned FALL TIME, TRACES OF RED and FTW on VHS. Yet never JURASSIC PARK. This is less because while JURASSIC PARK has many leathery denizens Mickey Rourke isn’t one of them, and more down to the fact I found JURASSIC PARK a bit underwhelming. I mean, it’s okay when you’re sat in front of it but as soon as you go and do something else there’s a nagging sense that you’ve just done something for the last 127 minutes but a maddening lack of specifics about what exactly that thing was. Usually when that happens I’m wearing a dress with blood in my hair and there’s a uniformed man outside with a bullhorn and some well-armed friends. All you know is it definitely involved Jeff Goldblum and a cup of water. For something that cost $63 million that seems like a remarkably poor return. Usually you can point at something about a movie and say That! That! is why it failed to entertain! But JURASSIC PARK is well directed, well scripted, ably cast, brimming with special FX which are special and, y’know, dinosaurs and…none of that ever actually comes together to make a good movie; it’s just stubbornly bland. As much of an achievement as the FX were at the time surely the eternal achievement of JURASSIC PARK is making a movie about resurrected dinosaurs running amok in an island paradise less engaging than sneaking a fart out.

JURASSIC PARK by Kane & Perez, Simonson, Workman & Smith

Of course, I had already been somewhat spoiled on the old dinosaurs running amuck front by Pat Mills and Various European Gentlemen’s FLESH in 2000AD (1977-1978). Despite “Pat Mills and Various European Gentlemen’s FLESH” sounding like something that would be seized at Customs, it was in fact a luridly violent strip aimed at children which involved time travelling Future Cowboys harvesting dinosaurs, in the course of which the tables quickly, predictably, and violently turn. It was fast, nasty and punched its point home like it was trying to grab your spine. In comparison JURASSIC PARK is like a dinosaurs’ tea party where the worst that happens is T-Rex spills milk on a doily and the Velociraptors say something unfortunate about someone’s sister. I don’t want to be crass (but we aren’t always all we want to be) but how many deaths are there in JURASSIC PARK? Four or five? Six tops. That’s pitiful. There are six deaths on every page of FLESH. And if there aren’t (because someone will take me literally) it feels like there are. The deaths in JURASSIC PARK are frictionless punchlines to efficient action set-ups. The deaths in FLESH, however, are nasty and brutal with much screaming and precision about exactly what is happening and how unpleasant it all is. Look, In FLESH you get dialogue like “Gotta STAB this she-hag right in the BRAIN!” and that’s always going to trump “Have some ice cream. Twenty two flavours and I tested every one!” Sure, no one talks like people do in FLESH but then no one is going back in time dressed as cowboys and farming dinosaurs for future supermarkets. YET! If you’re calling foul on dialogue on that creative battlefield you’re getting hung up on the wrong barbed wire, pal. Maybe that’s it - JURASSIC PARK tries to marry spectacle to respectability. Come on, anyone trying to make a respectable dinosaurs run amuck movie has failed at the first hurdle. Basically then, I remain ashamed that I enjoyed CARNOSAUR more.

JURASSIC PARK by Kane & Perez, Simonson, Workman & Smith

I can’t actually speak to how well the adaptation and the movie line up because I was unwilling to give up some of my valuable time spent staring into the middle distance and being disappointed in myself to rewatch it. And if you think that makes all this pointless exercise in self-amusement then have a banana! Take two; knock yourself out! Flash Fact: this is my free time. Anyway, parts of the comics adaptation are ridiculously faithful and I’m kind of thinking Walter Simonson simply and efficiently adapted the script (or at least a near to shooting script). I mean that’s basically all he does. I’m not making any huge perceptive leaps here. That’s no foul. Obviously expectations may be raised because of all that pushing-of-comics-into-weird-new-shapes-in-order-to-evoke-the-experience-of-the-movie he (and Archie Goodwin) did with ALIEN: THE ILLUSTRATED STORY. (I may have mentioned it previously. At length.) But Simonson doesn’t do that here so don’t be expecting what he hasn’t done. What he has done is deliver a meat’n’taters movie on the page. In fact, the most interesting thing visual invention wise is how John Workman positions his (as ever) wonderful lettering FX; they really help shunt the eye through the pages. Also interesting are the slight deviations from the movie I could identify. Unless I’m wrong there’s an extra scene with the lawyer at an amber mine (more lawyers talking to capable men in short sleeved shirts outdoors; that’s what JURASSIC PARK needed!) and I know I’m not wrong when Simonson has Kane & Perez illustrate Sam Neill’s “no one in the audience has ever heard of Raptors but you need to be aware of how awesome they are or all this build up simply won’t work…”speech to that random kid as a kind of dream sequence.

I also thought Bob Peck was in charge of the luckless wage slave bit at the start, but here it looks like it’s Howard Victor Chaykin sporting some shades. (And another thing, I mean, seriously, the whole fiasco is down to employers thinking they don’t have to adhere to basic Health & Safety because, what, it impacts on the “bottom line” and affects “targets” (trans: “money”). There’s a lot of huffing and puffing trying to make the lawyer the villain (because tradition) but all that dude wants is everyone to do what the law says. Fuck that dude, with his safety concerns; I hope he dies humiliatingly hiding in a portable loo. Look, I don’t care how cuddly Richard Attenborough is, he still values human life less than a theme park ride. That misty eyed reminiscence thing about the flea circus? Get real, people, Life is the Circus to Richard Attenborough and we, the people, are THE FLEAS! Dude’s a cock of the first order. Does he get eaten? No, he does not. That’s bloody Rule #1 in dinosaurs run amok movies- payback! Payback for the shitters of the world! Ultimately JURASSIC PARK is toothless (Oh God, that’s some great wordplay. Professional level shit there, John; keep that up! Publishers will be “interested” (trans: “money”) so it’s no wonder I can’t be doing with this movie.) Mind you maybe Gil Kane did that as a joke (recap: the Howard Chaykin in shades thing) because Gil Kane seems to be playing pretty loose character design wise.

JURASSIC PARK by Kane & Perez, Simonson, Workman & Smith

Oh, yeah, that’s why I have these comics – Gil Kane. No, not because I ever believed the lie of easy riches implicit in the “Special Collector’s Edition” status of these books with their protective sheaths (which you have to re-insert the comics back into; if you close your eyes you can imagine putting a French tickler on Gumby) and the trading cards included therein. Man, never has a generation been so betrayed as the Comics Fans of the ‘90s. Life wasn’t supposed to be like this. We were all going to be rich. None of us learned life skills because we were going to cash on our mint holofoil BALLJUGGLER#1s and live a life resembling a blizzard of jizz and glitter but with added cats in speedboats. None of us can actually even talk to people never mind hold down a job! Shit like this is why I’m in favour of regulation. Well, that and the whole global financial collapse which threw my country rightwards and into the arms of the Tories. Other than that though, it’s definitely the whole trading cards thing. So, Gil Kane. We were talking about Gil Kane; well, Gil’s here but so is George Perez. Look, I have no beef with George Perez’ work usually; it’s fine. A bit busy and stolid for me personally, but if you want a lot of superheroes all in one place George Perez can do that pretty well. But, man, here in the place where there are no superheroes his heavy lines and consequent dearth of suggestive space where the reader’s mind can play really flattens Kane’s work into inertia. I guess it’s decent enough stuff; he keeps Kane’s basics intact, nothing is omitted. In fairness there are a couple of “imaginary” scenes where the detail gets pared back and in those bits Perez and Kane are a team to reckon with. But Perez’ signature insistence on specificity really hurts Kane’s inherent grace and flow. It’s just a less than ideal combination; both men on their own – smashing, but together, meh, not so much. Hey, that’s how it goes sometimes.

JURASSIC PARK by Kane & Perez, Simonson, Workman & Smith

The salt’n’marshmallow art combo sure makes some of Kane’s faces look weird as well. There certainly seems to have been some kind of power struggle over Laura Dern’s face (artistically speaking). There’s no doubt in my fat and generous heart that Gil Kane was a phenomenal artist but he could only draw two ladies faces- either a goddess or a crone. Laura Dern is neither; she just looks like a normal human being. I’m saying it looks like George Perez redrew her face. Actually I don’t really know what’s going on with the faces here. Kane nails Wayne Knight (artistically speaking) but his Samuel L Jackson looks like he’s never heard of Samuel L Jackson, his Richard Attenborough looks like he’s got a mossy skin disease instead of a beard and (the late, great) Bob peck who looks like Gil Kane drew him in reality doesn’t look like Gil Kane drew him here. I find the face work in these comics fascinating but I can tell from the depth and regularity of your breathing that you want to move on. Why am I even talking about faces! It’s a comic about dinosaurs run amuck and I’m talking about faces! There’s the crux of the matter right there. I never got within about 2000 miles of Gil Kane but you don’t have to be Thought Jacker to guess he probably turned up here to draw dinosaurs, not a bunch of mostly normal looking people in drab clothes ambling about impressively unmemorable set designs. Eventually Kane does get to draw dinosaurs but Walter Simonson, tumbling into the trap of hyper-fidelity to the source, has knacked the pacing. So the bits where Gil can go dino-crazy are well worth showing up for but they are also kind of cramped and hurried. Meanwhile there are all these pages of weird faces saying words, none of which are why anyone turned up, least of all the audience.

JURASSIC PARK by Kane & Perez, Simonson, Workman & Smith

I love Walter Simonson and I love Gil Kane, John Workman is a little cracker and George Perez ain’t never done me no harm so these comics weren’t a total wash. But Honesty, like Christ, compels me to admit they’ve both done better work elsewhere and there are even better dinosaur run amuck comics. So, sure, given the talent involved JURASSIC PARK may be EH! but then that goes for the movie too. So, as adaptations go it’s spot on.

What I want to know is, if dinosaurs were around for so long how come they never invented – COMICS!!!

“And Now For The KILL!” COMICS! Sometimes I Think You Are Going To Ignore this Particular Comic Until It Swims Up And Bites You On The Ass!

Ho-Ho-HOOK JAW! Season's Greetings from the ACTION Age of AGGRO!

Anyway, this...

The eagle eyed amongst you will notice that, uncharacteristically, some facts crept into this one; largely in the bit about how The Man stamped on ACTION’s neck. I am indebted for these facts to the book ACTION: THE STORY OF A VIOLENT COMIC by Martin Barker (Titan, 1990). I should have read it in full but I didn’t have time; any errors are mine and any facts are from Martin Barker’s book.

HOOK JAW#1 Art by Ramon Sola Written by Ken Armstrong (and Pat Mills) Coloured by Gary Caldwell, SMOgy and Kirtsy Swan Lettered by Jim Campbell Egmont (2013) comprising 22 "pages" (6 episodes) £1.43 KINDLE Edition

I once physically held a copy of the reprinted Hook Jaw in my hand and thought I’d leave it for later because, really, how much demand could there possibly be for some 1970s B&W kids comics about a shark? Now of course every time I go on-line and gaze tearfully at the prices that slim volume now fetches I am reminded that a) demand might be low for a comic but so might the print run and b) delayed gratification is not all it’s cracked up to be. However. However. Sometimes it turns out hanging on in there pays off because Hook Jaw was later gussied up for the new millennium and reprinted in STRIP magazine. I didn’t buy that mag but those strips are now available digitally in swift sharp jabs of low rent awesomeness. Well, the first shoal of those strips is out now. So, yeah, I snapped that up and now I’m a going to be yammering on about them. (SPOILER: I really liked ‘em!)

Before modern readers wade in it’s probably important to stress a few things about the strips in this digital package. First, they are episodic strips not full comics. This is because Hook Jaw originally appeared in the British children’s adventure strip periodical ACTION WEEKLY. ACTION was an anthology and Hook Jaw was only one of the features within so it had a limited amount of space, around three pages, to get in and get out and leave you feeling like something had happened. Folks used to reading today’s often snail paced forays into confused tedium may need to go carefully with these strips. No one wants today’s delicate sophisticates to end up staggering about puking on their shoes like sugar rushed kids fresh from a roller coaster with a broken speedo. Hook Jaw is high impact stuff, is what I’m getting at here. AGGRO! as at least one ACTION cover spat in Britain’s face. Yes, ACTION was AGGRO! alright. These are not polite strips because ACTION wasn’t a polite comic. Hook Jaw, appropriately enough then, comes to us from a brief slice of time when comics remained a little untamed. ACTION WEEKLY was born in 1976 and died in 1977 because while the kids were up for a ruck The Man bottled it! AGGRO! Sorry, ACTION, the comic, then, was the twisted brainchild of Pat Mills who had proved his mettle with his (and John Wagner’s) successful editorial midwifing of BATTLE PICTURE WEEKLY in 1973. So successful were those efforts that in 1975 IPC told him to go away and do that again, but differently. So Pat Mills did do that; John Sanders and others edited the weekly reality of Mills’ concept. The first issue was cover dated 14 February 1976, which is appropriate because if ever there was a valentine to all the dark little hearts of the children of 1970s Britain then ACTION WEEKLY was it.

As the title indicates ACTION had a much broader remit than BATTLE PICTURE WEEKLY. Mills’ brief here was to be more “realistic” and “contemporary”; terms which at this far more cultured remove are best understood as “brutally violent” and “the 1970s”. Since the kids had taken to BATTLE PICTURE WEEKLY it made sense that there’d be a WW2 strip to ease the little angels in. This was Hellman of Hammer Force and it might as well have appeared in BATTLE; it eventually would due to the terrible events which were soon to befall our plucky periodical. (Bit of suspense there; you’re welcome) Hellman, then, was the first strip about a “Good German” in the sense that he was noble and conflicted, but not good in the sense that he always followed orders; those were the “Bad Germans” and Hellman spent as much time battling them as he did the Allies. His gimmick was jars of mayonnaise a big hammer. I know it sounds stupid but it worked . That’s key that, to all these ‘70s kids comics; the working bit. This one sop to the (perfectly reasonable) British inability to come to terms with WW2 aside most of the strips were cheekily direct, um, homages to all the ‘70s ultra-violent grown-up fare, rumours of which electrified playgrounds around this Sceptic Isle. ACTION took a while to settle in, so there are strips that didn’t make it but we’ll focus on the ones folks remember. I can’t cover everything but up at the top I did tell you about a book that does. Yes, I am lovely.

If you were seven years old you wouldn’t have seen Dirty Harry, but you would have heard about Dirty Harry. Even though the unreliability of the average 7 year old’s breathless recounting of Dirty Harry would make Patrick Bateman look like a reliable narrator you’d have got the gist of Dirty Harry. So when you opened up ACTION WEEKLY and read Dredger, well, let’s say you felt lucky, punk. So, yeah, since there’s no lawyers about - Dredger was Dirty Harry (1971) with a bit of espionage and class war chucked in, Death Game 1999 was Rollerball (1975) and Hook Jaw was Shampoo (1975). Oh, okay, it was Jaws (1975), obviously. (You’re no fun these days.) But it wasn’t all cinematic hand me downs. The comic also enjoyed subverting the typical Brit sport strip. I had to look these others up because, well, that glue didn’t sniff itself back then. It seems that Look Out For Lefty was a slightly harsher Roy of The Rovers (i.e. football AKA soccer) which nodded slightly more directly at reality. There was Blackjack, an apparently defiantly cheerless boxing strip which was accused of being a bit racist. Having survived the ‘70s I can’t imagine how racist something would have to have been to raise an eyebrow in the 1970s themselves. Issues of ACTION containing Blackjack must have actually been on fire with racist flames or something. Or maybe someone overreacted; that happens sometimes. And that’s what happened next. And it happened because of the hooliganism, the carnivorous shark, the violent cop, the sympathetic Jerry, the possibly racist boxing and also because of the Kids. Which is odd because the strip claimed The Kids Rule OK. Ironically of all the strips in ACTION The Kids Rule OK was the one which pointed to the future of British children’s weekly adventure strip periodicals because it was set in the future (1986! Crikey!). A future which ACTION didn’t have much of but its successor 2000AD would go on to define.

ACTION didn’t have a future because in a time displaced echo of the ‘50s Wertham brouhaha which kicked the feet from under EC comics in particular, and gelded the US comics industry more generally, someone decided they knew what was best. Flashpoint occurred with Carlos Ezquerra’s now infamous AGGRO! cover coupled with, inside, a pic of a bottle being thrown into a football crowd. Innocuous enough stuff now but back then it was blood in the water and The Man sharked for the kill. The problem with the cover was the plod’s hat on the right which allowed it to be interpreted as the kid giving a copper a good chaining. Meanwhile, in the pages of Look Out For Lefty, Lefty’s girlfriend threw a bottle at some kids in a football crowd which was unfortunate as violence was staining the real-life terraces of Britain at this time. Chaining coppers and condoning hooliganism wasn’t something people were comfortable with their kids seeing. At least they weren’t when the tabloids of the time told them it wasn’t. These “news” papers had started to kick up a fuss with ACTION’s second issue and kept a completely ethical eye, I’m sure, on ACTION thereafter. Famously, The Sun ( “an ethical dunny”, said an unnamed source) dubbed ACTION “the sevenpenny nightmare” but The Sun wasn’t alone in its concerns on the behalf of the British public. Many of these bastions of journalistic integrity were the types who would later condemn Dennis Potter’s “filth” by going into great detail about said “filth”, printing pictures of said “filth” but, strangely, omitting any artistic context in which said “filth” may have been couched. Their pages were buxom with journalism concerning pressing issues of the day such as a top glamour model’s nights of passion with, say, John Inman (“I was Being Served! Five Times A Night!”) and had so much familiarity with comics they would wheel out Denis Gifford as an expert. As nice a man as Denis Gifford probably was, when it came to 1970s comics he wasn’t so much out of touch as devoid of feeling all together. Unfortunately for ACTION there had also been a rise in moral bodies wishing to protect the tiny minds of children from, well, everything. This was the time of Mary Whitehouse, organisations like DOVE and a new Puritanism which thrived on uninformed fear and which would help Margaret Thatcher inflict herself on Britain.

At one point John Saunders was called to defend ACTION on Television in front of Frank Bough (who would be torn into by the tabloids later in his life); Saunders gave a good account for himself despite Bough ambushing him with questions other than those agreed upon. ACTION’s profile had been raised alright but not in a good way. I can’t verify what happened next but it seems one of ACTION’s major high-street stockists may (perhaps) have intimated a possibility that it might drop not only ACTION but all other IPC publications. (I’m not saying it was W H Smiths but it doesn’t seem to have been John Menzies.) There is no documentation of this but it seems not entirely impossible. Sometimes it’s the right word in the right ear from the right mouth and there’s no proof anything ever happened, M’Lud. After all, ACTION was profitable and popular and you don’t straight up and drop that because some folk are loud about their noses being put out of joint. Or maybe you did in the 1970s, it was a simpler time in some ways at least. Manipulating outrage was certainly in its infancy whereas today O! what hay could be made! Anyway, the initiating event remains unidentified but the 23 October issue of ACTION was pulped with the title returning to shops in a much diluted form on 27 November 1976. Due to this neutering and the loss of publishing momentum ACTION limped along at far lower sales until the inevitable occurred, and it was quietly ingested by BATTLE following its 5 November 1977 issue.

I know, I know, ACTION sounds like the best kids comic ever, and it was. FACT! But not for long. But while we had it? Well, Whitney, didn’t we almost have it all? Luckily nothing ever dies it just changes form. Particularly if you can make money off it. Which brings us here to 2014 and Hook Jaw #1. What was once blurrily printed on cheap paper is now digitally disinterred, disinfected and offered up for the eyes of the children of the children whose eyes originally recoiled in stunned wonder from the brute joys of Hook Jaw; the shark with a hook in its jaw. Although Ken Armstrong is credited with the writing Hook Jaw is clearly Pat Mills’ fault in essence. And it’s clear because Mills carried that essence across into the other two parts of what no one ever calls his Animal Aggro Trilogy™©. Regular readers will (as well as being wholly imaginary) recall the magic of 2000AD’s Shako! (“The only bear on the CIA death List…!”) which strip I have both reviewed and used to work out certain personal issues on this site in years past. That’s the one about the Polar bear with a bellyful of chemical warfare dispatching a bunch of foolish/hateful humans until a slightly rushed ending is forced on him by poor reader feedback. People with debatable taste may well have killed Shako! but Shako! died…WELL! Hook Jaw is very much like an early version of Shako! in that it is a rougher version of the same template. Hook Jaw, however, benefits from the shaky narrative energy of inexperience and the , quite frankly, fucking ridiculous levels of violence displayed. There’s some horrid stuff in Shako! but Hook Jaw is just taking the piss. And the bladder and the whole lower half of some poor screaming bastard. Hook Jaw doesn’t muck about; he’s in it to kill it. Mostly in this “issue” Hook Jaw is killing it around an oil rig in the Bahamas. When he’s not working on his tan anyway. This oil rig plays the same pivotal role as the Time Centre would in Mills’ et al’s Flesh in 2000AD; that is, it is the hub around which the carnage is centred and is also a capitalistic enterprise which values lucre over human life. Flesh is of course the best ever strip about Time Travellers Dressed As Cowboys Harvesting The Dinosaurs Into Extinction. Sure it’s all From Hell, Human Diastrophism, Starstruck and American Flagg! if I’m out in polite society but left to my own devices, yes, Neil and Chris, I probably would. Opt for Flesh, that is. Because the heart wants what the heart wants and the heart wants Flesh.

As does Hook Jaw and what Hook Jaw wants Hook Jaw gets. Some people say Hook Jaw acts as a kind of moral arbiter meting out punishment only upon the guilty, but that’s just hogwash; they wish that were true. Early on in the strip there’s a boaty postman with the worst route in the world (an oil rig surrounded by sharks! Super!) who gets minced and so does his kid (we don’t actually see the kid get it; this visual omission is kindness in the world of Hook Jaw). I’ve thought about this and, other than a really severe penalty for illegally taking his kid to work, I’m at a loss as to how Hook Jaw has provided me with moral instruction there. Hook Jaw is , in fact, instructive; it introduced kids to the phenomenon of nitrogen narcosis and accompanied it with a picture of a man surfacing so fast he actually explodes in a shower of scientifically valid gore. Thanks to Ramon Sola’s artistic offences to the page Hook Jaw’s gore is pretty fruitily represented throughout. The fact that the silliness of what’s on view only hits after the involuntary retching has subsided is testament to the Spaniard’s talent for traumatising tableaux. There’s something raw about everything he draws and his pages are all about maximum impact. Every page is busy and brash but always clear because he wants you to see every screaming face and every bone protruding from every leg snapped like a breadstick. Except for the odd mis-step where a shark looks to be above the water the colouring and restoration work well; it sands down some of the roughness, sure, but to eradicate all the thrilling crudity someone else would have to redraw it from scratch. Decades later and Sola’s savagery still shines through this slick technological sheen like a shark tooth slips through wet skin. A lot of things happen to Hook Jaw in this “issue” and Hook Jaw happens to a lot of folk. To say more would spoil the fun. But remember, gentle reader, these are high impact strips. They are like someone abseiling down your cranium, smashing through your eyes, spraying your brain with tear gas, bellowing GO! GO! GO! and then….they are gone. Subtlety, nuance and sophistication are worn lightly by Hook Jaw. Look, he’s a shark not a poet. He’s Hook Jaw; the shark with a hook in his jaw. And he’s VERY GOOD!

Anyway, we delivered the – COMICS!!!!

Wait, What? Ep. 134: Putting the "Me! Me!" back into "Meme"

From the easy-to-love but difficult-to-defend (at least when you're talking to Graeme McMillan) Yakitate!! Japan by Takashi Hashiguchi

Hello, how are you? Is that a new shirt? Oh, really? Huh. Well, you look good in it anyway.

Me? Oh, I'm mostly okay.  Ate something a few days that didn't agree with me so my stomach is upset which kinda saps me of my ability to get things done?  I mostly want to just lie around and watch movies on Netflix where things explode and take my mind off my stomach...

What's that?  Does that mean I'm going to present you with a more truncated set of show notes to go with this episode?  Uh... let's step behind the jump and talk about it, okay?

Well, yes.  Yes, it probably does. There are a few points where I should've really uploaded the images to save you the hassle of googling "Alex Ross Bionic Bigfoot cover" but I didn't.

But...the show itself is quite good and still over two hours!  My stomach wasn't involved in the making of it at all!

Oh, and we don't mention it on-air but next week is skip week because I've got this family function thing going on. Sorry about that!

Anyway, as for those show notes I was talking about:

0:00-5:31: Greetings! Our only bitching about tech trouble in the entire podcast!  Jeff, for a change, is the one who actually talks about a bit of tech news that Graeme doesn't know.  Other topics briefly covered and then dismissed: burping, and announcing our podcast episode in advance. 5:31-9:48: This was recorded the day after the Comics Internet blew up about J.H. Williams III's announcement of leaving Batwoman (and, more crucially, why).  It's a surprisingly brief talk about that, as well as about the Dickwolves PAX controversy but, hey, I guess we were just warming up or something? 9:48-15:46: And what is Jeff upset about this week?  Forever Evil #1!  And I guess I lied when I said there was tech trouble, but that's because the few seconds around 10:38 where Graeme turns into Max Headroom isn't a bug, it's a feature. We literally just talk out the tech problem with Jeff making an outrageous suggestion to Graeme around the 12:45 mark that somehow works. 15:46-28:17: So let's try that again: And what is Jeff upset about this week?  Forever Evil #1! Geoff Johns off his game? His very specific game that more or less has the name "Geoff Johns" carved into the side?  Is that possible?  Also discussed: Silver Age stories, the difficulty of working in the swerve, and more. 28:17-41:42: Jeff has also read The Star Wars #1 by J.W. Rinzler and Mike Mayhew. This is probably one of those cases where my expectations are off, so there's a good opportunity to talk about that as well. 41:42-59:06: Then again, did you ever have one of those weeks where you're just not having a good time with comics? Maybe that's what is happening here, as Jeff was also underwhelmed by August's Megazine (#339) and 2000 A.D. (Prog #1848).  Worth listening to just for having Graeme summarize Third World War by Pat Mills and Carlos Ezquerra. It may or may not lead to a new regular segment on this program: "Graeme Reads Wikipedia Entries." 59:06-1:34:15: One of the few things Jeff has been enjoying -- quite a bit, actually -- is Yakitate!! Japan but Graeme gets skewed out by the cover so please give a warm welcome the return of our long-time recurring feature:  "Jeff has to defend something he likes."  And also: "Jeff explains manga to Graeme," which has proven popular in the past.  Sadly, I was not on my game enough to point out to Graeme -- who is curious why T&A goes unchallenged in manga but is frequently the source of concern and criticism in American comics -- that part of the reason why it can get a pass in manga is that there is manga for girls and manga for women, but the American comics industry has, basically, just one big pool that is constantly adjusting itself to the comfort level of white males, and the rest of us just have to deal with it.  Also mentioned:  Bakuman, Death Note, R. Crumb, the Fukitor controversy over at TCJ, other things, probably. 1:34:15-1:46:17: And also in the realm of stuff "Jeff likes to be candid, probably to everyone's regret," here we are talking about the listener feedbacks to my Marvel boycott and my pinko leftiness.  I was sure this segment was going to be totally terrible but, while re-listening to it, thought it could've been much worse. 1:46:17-end: By contrast, Graeme gets to talk about what he bought at the half-price sale for Excalibur Comics.  Jeff listens in with envy.  Books discussed Captain Victory #1; ROM Annual #1; Steve Englehart issues of Justice League of America (#140 and #141, plus more); "valuable" books that can be found everywhere, and "worthless" books that are scarce; Alex Ross covers; interior art and right to our very brief closing comments, just a bit a minute or two past the two hour mark.

Next week: skip week!  Two weeks from now: Another episode! (We think; it's not like we plan this stuff out very far in advance at all.)

The episode is probably on iTunes by now (or will be shortly--there is occasionally a lag though nobody's complained in a while).  It is also below!  For your viewing pleasure!

Wait, What? Ep. 134: Putting the "Me! Me!" back into "Meme!"

Hope you are well, hope you enjoy, and -- damn it -- I hope my stomach soon stops feeling like I've been poking it with sticks!  

"A Tiger Doesn't Give A Buffalo Warning." COMICS! Sometimes They aaaAAAIEEEE!!! DAAKEESE MOB!!

In the Burmese jungle of 1942 only one thing was more deadly than the Japanese...In the war comics of 1976 only one strip ruled the playground...That thing, that strip was DARKIE’S MOB by Mike Western and John Wagner. COME ON!!! GET SOME!! CAHMMM AHHHNNNNN!!!! DARKIE’S MOB: The Secret War of Joe Darkie Art by Mike Western Written by John Wagner Introduction by Garth Ennis Titan Books, £16.99 (2011) Darkie’s Mob created by Mike Western and John Wagner (N.B. Darkie’s character defining shiny pate was the masterstroke of then editor Dave Hunter.)

Cover art by Carlos Ezquerra and Mike Western.

May 30^th 1942: “We’re just sitting. Waiting to die…” Taken from the blood stained pages of the battle log of private Richard Shortland comes the story of Darkie’s Mob. This is the story of Joe Darkie and of the men who followed him into Hell. This is the story of Joe Darkie who wore a dragon against his flesh and hid a demon in his heart. And this is the story, also, of the lost and hopeless men Joe Darkie forged with War into a jungle hard fighting force. And when he was done, when Joe Darkie was finally done, Joe Darkie had taught them that war was Hell but he also taught them that Hell could also be a home. And the Hell of War was the only home there could ever be for DARKIE’S MOB.

...and then he'll have to kill you.

This book contains all the episode of the picto-serial DARKIE’S MOB which originally appeared in issues of BATTLE PICTURE WEEKLY from August 1976 to June 1977. BATTLE was a weekly British war comic aimed primarily at children and it was thus a violent, dark, complex and brutal assault on the pre-teen mind. Which is just how kids like it, social services be damned. So, you've probably guessed Pat “Moderation” Mills was involved but only in that he, together with John Wagner, had set up BATTLE for Fleetway in direct response to the tamer and more typical fare of D C Thompson’s WARLORD.  To be fair, when I was a kid WARLORD had its moments but BATTLE still has its moments now I’m an adult, so BATTLE wins. Some might be confused by the fact that during the 1970s there was such an emphasis on the war in British comics. Such people’s confusion would be bolstered by the knowledge that, in addition to BATTLE and WARLORD, there were also the several monthly self-contained digest size titles of BATTLE PICTURE LIBRARY, WAR PICTURE LIBRARY and COMMANDO COMICS.

"British people In Hot Weather-AH!" The simplistic and sweeping answer (you were expecting maybe a reasoned thesis?) is that the War still wasn't all that far behind us back then. In fact a notable feature of early BATTLE was that readers were encouraged to send in the war stories of their fathers and grandfathers. (Of course due to natural attrition this feature became less popular as the years wore on). Basically Britain was still trying to process the massive trauma of the conflict and was having a hard time doing so. We’d helped win the thing but it had pretty much broken us and so, yes, it may well have been the 1970s but, sad to admit, the 1940s were taking some shaking.  In Renegade the autobiography of (i.e. a fascinating interpretation of his own reality) The Fall’s Mark E. Smith recalls how he used to play Japanese Prisoner of War Camp with the kids he was babysitting. This would involve them having to sit under a table and asking permission of the future Marquis Cha-Cha for any water or food. The kids of Britain in general were not unaffected by the tone of the times, is what I’m getting at there, and BATTLE would reflect this. BATTLE would reflect it in a relatively timely fashion as by 1976 attitudes to the war had changed somewhat and this was, as ever, reflected in the entertainments proffered. The slightly harsh but never too far from cosy early post-WW2 war films embodied by the words “John Mills” had started to give way to bleaker, grimier fare such as Robert Aldrich’s Too Late The Hero. Comics has ever magpied from pop culture after the fact but BATTLE was nimbler than WARLORD on picking up on the changes. WARLORD lagged behind in that it was still Millsian in the sense of Little Johnny but BATTLE was about to forge ahead by virtue of being Millsian in the sense of Pat. DARKIE’S MOB would be one of a number of strips Mills, Wagner, Gerry Finley Day et al would develop and script which would be part of a nation’s acceptance of its own past. Proof that true acceptance had been reached came when war comics fell by the way side. And so the healthy British mindset was to be embodied by a giant killer shark eating surfers like plankton and a fascistic future cop with a chin like a knee but, then, that’s why comics are the best of all things ever. Fact.

It's okay, he's just joshing...isn't he?

DARKIE’S MOB is a product of the 1970s and so, as this is 2013 when everybody behaves impeccably at all times, Garth Ennis spends most of his informative, knowledgeable and very enthusiastic introduction pointing out that although racist terms are used, they fall within acceptable parameters for the portrayal of a bunch of desperate men at the end of their tethers fighting an enemy it is in their interests to dehumanise. Let’s face it soldiers swear, and sometimes use less than pleasant terms for the people they are trying to kill. There’s no effin’ and jeffin’ here but there are some terms that might make us uncomfortable. And so they should, after all we’re not currently jungle fighting the Japanese are we? Anyway, you have been warned. Ennis also points out that the Japanese army weren't fucking about either. They meant business. In fact, the extent to which they were not fucking about quite surprised the breath out of the British hence they were somewhat on the back-foot when the tale opens. Although, cleverly, the tale is over when it begins and we witness everything via flashbacks spurred by entries in a diary found after the Japanese defeat. Right there on the first page is the clue to how it all ends, and it won’t be ending with kissing nurses in ticker tape parades. Not for Joe Darkie's Mob.

"Hey Kids, COMICS!!!"

As was usual for strips in British weekly anthologies of the time John Wagner and Mike Western get a whopping three (sometimes four!) pages an episode. Consequently brevity, concision, density and clarity are the order of the day and Western and Wagner obey those orders above and beyond the call of duty. While the initial impact of DARKIE’S MOB will always result from surprise at the savagery of the proceedings its persistence in the reader’s memory is wholly due to the characterisation. No, it’s not exactly Jonathan Franzen, but Wagner nails down the various characters with an enviable certainty and economy. He does this while, in each episode, also delivering at least one explosively violent set piece, hinting at Darkie’s past and keeping a character centric sub plot or two simmering. Wagner is of course known and loved by all comics fans primarily for co-creating Judge Dredd and Strontium Dog but is an excellent comic writer; one whose excellence is often taken for granted due to his comics working so well you often don’t realise how superbly executed they are. To the detriment of his own reputation Wagner always steps back and lets the story take precedence over his personality. Here then is DARKIE’S MOB which is fantastic episodic comic book writing by John Wagner. Oh, the usual warning applies with Brit reprints - it isn't, truthfully, best served by gorging, so maybe put the book aside now and then for the best effect. Self-restraint, I’m talking about self-restraint there. Although that might be difficult given the breakneck velocity built into the strip.

"AIEEEE!", Indeed!

In concert with Wagner’s scripting DARKIE’S MOB benefits enormously from its excellent envisaging by Mike Western. Mike Western is one of a whole host of 70s artists who worked on British comics and whom deserve wider recognition. Thanks to reprints some of them are getting a deserved second wind. This should afford them at least a place in comics history even if it isn’t fully the place they deserve. Carlos Ezquerra’s okay he’s got Judge Dredd (and then all the rest) to keep him in view and Joe Colquhoun isn't going anywhere thanks to Charley’s War and his Johnny Red should give John Cooper a deserved leg up as he shared the strip, but Mike Western’s shot is probably going to be DARKIE’S MOB, so forgive me if I try and make it count.  Because it deserves to count because Mike Western is a kind of old school awesome worth celebrating. Western was a stalwart mainstay of the British comics scene with his realistic rather than cartoony work gracing adventure strips and TV tie-ins in titles such as Knockout, Buster, Valiant and, of course BATTLE. Following DARKIE’S MOB Western would continue working in British comics until he officially retired in the ‘90s. He died in 2008. Throughout his career his work was informed by an admiration of artists from over the pond such as Alex Raymond and Milton Caniff. Studying their work would enable him to maximise the limited page space available in British comics but it was his own remarkable talents which make his work in DARKIE’S MOB so successful.

He's Got A Ticket To DIE!!!!

Western served his country in WW2 and while I do not know if any of his experiences are reflected in his art for Darkie’s Mob I kind of hope not for his own sake, what with the claustrophobic sense of sweaty doom he gives the strip. Reportedly Western enjoyed drawing faces and while this is never a bad thing in a comic artist it’s a sure strength when drawing war comics. As the Army isn't noted for encouraging individuality the Mob are largely differentiated by their faces, somewhat in the manner of real human beings. Western’s solid and lifelike fizzogs ground the melodramatic emotions being experienced and enable the retention of a veneer of realism over events that sometimes might stretch belief. Western’s characters are also placed firmly in environments which in a few lines and slabs of black ensure that the reader comes away from DARKIE’S MOB with a sure sense that the book has occurred within the dank folds of a murky jungle Hell. At first glance Western’s art might appear staid and static but when read with Wagner’s words it comes alive, drawing the reader in and pushing the real world out. Proper Comics there, that is. In DARKIE’S MOB with fewer pages than fingers on a wounded hand Western manages to pack in all the desperate and dingy psychodrama Wagner’s script requires in order to sting. He also works those individual panels. Really works them. Mike Western could cram an indecent amount of action, event, character, information and motion into a single panel and if you gave him a whole page to play with? Glad you asked:

DARKIE’S MOB is a raw blast of ‘70s Brit comics Burmese battle action delivered by the masterful team of Mike Western and John Wagner. War is truly terrible but DARKIE’S MOB is VERY GOOD!

“AAAIIIIEEEEE!!!” – COMICS!!!!

Wait, What? Ep. 116: G-Mo K-Hole

Because it is Hook Jaw, and Because it is My Heart...

Yep, we are back!  Sorry for our absence from the podcasting broadcast waves and of course the Savage Critic site itself.

After the jump--show notes!  But before we get there, I wanted to congratulate House to Astonish for their 100th Episode!  I'm listening to it now, and want to recommend it for people who like what Graeme and I do but would maybe like it if it was done much better?  Congrats to Al & Paul!

Now, then.  Where was I?  Oh, right.

Actually, as long as I'm on the linking-to-not-Wait-What? tip, I should mention I had a great time talking movies with Sean Witzke over at the Factual Opinion's movie podcast, Travis Bickle on the Riviera.  As I said on Twitter, I make a terrible Tucker Stone stand-in, but being able to talk Lincoln, The Seven-Ups, All That Jazz, and John Woo's The Killer (among others) was an opportunity I refused to pass up.  Big thanks to Sean for that, and if there are those brave, masochistic few that haven't had enough of my braying laugh yet, please do check it out.

As for this go-round, check it out:

0:00-6:59: We tried to get our technical problems out of the way at the very beginning (and pass the savings on to you, the listener).  And then it's on to a few minutes of Jeff kibitzing on Graeme's work habits, so it's the best of both worlds--you get to listen in on what Graeme McMillan (the hardest working man on the Internet)

6:59-9:44:  "But, instead, let me read three pages of Hook Jaw…" Who does that sentence turn out well for?  Not someone who has other things to do, that's for sure.  In other words, Hook Jaw is awesome, unless you're Jeff who is trying to procrastinate.

9:44-13:11: Moving on from Hook Jaw, Jeff also picked up issues #3 and #4 of Happy by Grant Morrison and Darick Robertson, and talks about that (although with a lot less evil oil rigger imitations).

13:11-20:04: As long as we're on the G-Mo Train (and let's be honest, when aren't we on the G-Mo Train?), Jeff also read Action Comics #17.  Since Graeme hasn't, the conversation is not especially weighty.  But, hey, for those of you filling out your Wait, What? bingo cards, feel free to fill that in…even if it really should be the card's free space by now.

20:04-21:59: "Where on the Morrison spectrum does Batman Inc. fall for you?"  Yeah, we are not out of the k-hole that is Grant Morrison yet. Not nearly.

21:59-43:07:  And so we're out, via discussion of Batman #17, the "Death of the Family" finale by Snyder and Capullo. Graeme references the discussion that he had over at Kotaku with his smart friends, and it's only fair I include a link to that here.  Graeme also talks about the follow-up issue of Batman & Robin which Jeff forgot to pick up at the store, dammit.

43:07-50:54: We discuss Justice League of America #1.  Has it been a while since we've really dug into DC titles, or is it just me?

50:54-58:14:  But speaking of not speaking of Marvel, Graeme read issue #6 of The Avengers by Hickman & Kubert thinking Jeff would've read but didn't and then he has to talk about it all by himself.  Haw, haw! Sucker.

58:14-1:01:43: Jeff has read Thor #5 by Aaron & Ribic, and man is that a pretty book. This isn't much of a review as much of a collection of spoilers with a bunch of fanning compliments about the art, but, eh.  That's how it happens sometimes.

1:01:43-1:04:39:  Jeff also read the first issue of Nova by Jeph Loeb and Ed McGuinness and was pretty surprised to find himself enjoying it.  (Not such a fan of Avengers/X-Sanction was ol' Jeff.)

1:04:39-1:07:13:  Graeme really liked issue #23 of Daredevil by Mark Waid and Chris Samnee, which apparently is a great jumping-on point for the book.  Jeff is pretty jealous.  The term "a perfect superhero comic" is used as well as the phrase "amazing, amazing stuff."

1:07:13-1:13:55:  Jeff asks about the Superman H'el on Earth storyline because, eh, he's honestly curious.  What can he say?  And Graeme gives all the deets. Unfortunately, at this point, Jeff's head moves one step closer to its MODOK stage and the crunching of the headphones tightening around his ears can be heard in the background. Embarrassing and awkward!

1:13:55-1:26:46:  Also, does Graeme have a take on the new Green Lantern teams?  Whatnauts wanted to know, so Jeff also asks about that bit of business. A bit of analysis about what DC is doing and where they're heading is probably inevitable.

1:26:46-1:50:54:  And of course we are going to discuss "Oscar Scott Card." Probably also inevitable.  There's also some discussion of Jeff and his ever-growing collection of bad-faith boycotts that may be kind of interesting to some.  A surprising admission is made, let's just say.

1:50:54-1:54:34: More comic reviewy stuff!  Uncanny X-Men #1 by Bendis and Bachalo has been read by Jeff so he blabs about it for a bit.

1:54:34-2:14:02:  Last issue of Hellblazer!  It's been read by Graeme so he blabs about it for a bit, as well.  (Spoiler alerts, of course.)  He's got a great prediction here for a possible announcement during con season--be on the look-out for it.

2:14:02-end:  Winding down/update for any Graeme stalkers: will Graeme be attending ECCC? Or other conventions?  Also: Graeme listened to House to Astonish Ep. 100 (see above--but, yes, I will also link it again). Also, if you are in Oslo on June 7 and 8, check out the Oslo Comics Expo!  We will be back next week with more podcastery!  (And we promise to answer our outstanding questions next time, we promise! Even I'm a little appalled we didn't answer any this time around.)

The episode is probably up on iTunes of this entry--if only because all of my attempts to launch this early Tuesday morning has gone awry the last three or four months.  But you can also grab it below, should you wish:

Wait, What? Ep. 116: G-Mo K-Hole

We hope you enjoy and thanks for listening!

Wait, What? Ep. 113: Technically Difficult

A page from Shotaro Ishinomori's Kikaider, which we didn't even discuss this week but which I kinda adore, nonetheless...

ATTENTION, ATTENTION, NEXT WEEK WILL BE A SKIP WEEK FOR THE PODCAST.  NEXT WAIT IS A WEEK, WHAT? SKIPCAST!

You may not care.  In fact, you may be relieved but either way, Graeme and I will not be talking one another's ear off this week so there won't be anything for you to listen to from us next week.  Maybe you can get out of the house for a bit?  Go for a walk?  Realize that although it's probably too late to do that "52 books  in 52 weeks" you promised, you can maybe still get in 48 in 48 weeks?

Either way, we are here today, gone tomorrow (by which we mean: next week).

As for that "here today" part--show notes after the jump!

Yeah, we had all kinds of technical problems again...sorry about that.  Maybe one day soon, we will try tech solution Omega...but I'm not looking forward to that too much, to be honest.  I'm hoping we can come up something a little bit better than using an atomic bomb we worship as a god to blow up the planet...

0:00-8:49: Hello! 113 is apparently an unlucky number?  Graeme reports on the bounce houses in the sky, and also a story about a prison break that seems very Beagle Boy-esque. 8:49-27:47: 'Comic news' is a great term because most people would say it's neither.  Nonetheless, we discuss the new column by Bob Harras and Bobbie Chase (which they call B&B, but I sort of wish they'd titled "Two Bobs and a Weave"), the news of writers getting pulled off their books before their first issues are even out, etc., etc. Sadly, we have a dose of  our infuriatingly intermittent tech problems plaguing us a bit during this conversation (that eventually builds to a somewhat hilarious obsession on Jeff's part about whether or not he's rocking in his chair too much, or at all).  Our apologies.  Poor DC--once we're done with that, we grouse about their really bad covers, lately.  Also, Jeff has a metaphor for the New DC that probably reveals a bit too much about his family past, maybe. 27:47-41:17:  And because Marvel doesn't get a free pass (except when they do), we also discuss the upcoming Thanos Rising miniseries and compare/contrast with DC's Birds of Prey debacle.  Also, Jeff tries to start an urban legend where if you look in a mirror and say "Mark Badger, Mark Badger, Mark Badger" three times, a Batman miniseries appears. A discussion of how much "there" needs to be there for a comics news story to be a news story... 41:17-41:38: Intermission (Jaunty)! 41:38-53:30:  Comic books!  Graeme and Jeff discuss New Avengers #2 by Jonathan Hickman and Steve Epting; and Jeff talks about how Marvel is creeping him out a little bit. 53:30-1:00:09: Captain America #3!  Graeme isn't reading it; Jeff is, but is somewhat troubled by Cap being less of a Kirbyesque Cap than a Milleresque Cap, and later, while editing the podcast, is a little horrified that this is a complaint he actually made with his face. 1:00:09-1:05:53: Graeme has read the latest issue of Daredevil and then an advance ARC of Paul Pope's The One Trick Rip-Off.  After more techie problems, we decided to jump just a bit early and come back with a different (and more reliable) mic. 1:05:53-1:06:15: Intermission (Jazzy)! 1:06:15-1:08:17:  Round Three!  Graeme has noticed something about the latest Marvel solicitations that suggests they're not reading them especially closely.  He also has good news about Avengers Assemble #14? 1:08:17-1:14:57:  Batman #16 and Batman and Robin #16!  The Death of the Family stuff is just intensely, baroquely fucked up in a way that reminds Jeff of another Batman book that may not be what Scott Snyder and the Bat-team had in mind… 1:14:57-1:23:42:  Issues #5 and #6 of Black Kiss 2!  It's the grand wrap-up of a this mighty odd sequel from Howard Chaykin. 1:23:42-1:42:13:  Questions, finally!   Al Ewing asked: Where do you stand on: 1) Vodka And Coke; 2) Christmas Crackers; 3) Dennis The Menace vs Dennis The Menace And Gnasher; 4) Big sacks with ‘SWAG’ on them vs Big sacks with ‘$’ on them; 5) The ‘aggro style’ UK comics of the late seventies; 6) Hi-style design-heaviness in US superhero work – could the design sensibility of a David Aja or a Johnathan Hickman replace the hem-hem ‘design’ sensibility of bendy spines and porn poses and upskirt angles if we all wish really really hard? 7) Bad Machinery/Girls With Slingshots/Dinosaur Comics 1:42:13-1:56:19: Mo Walker asked: 1). If you could put together an Avengers/Justice League style team comprised of Kirby characters, who would make the cut? 2). What are your thoughts on series 4 of Misfits? 1:56:19-1:59:40: JohnK (UK) asked: 1) A revival of Quality’s BIG BEN – The Man With No Time For Crime by Al Ewing and J Bone – Yes or No? QUICKLY! Yes or No? 2) Biggest Loss to Comics’ archive: ROM, ATARI FORCE or MICRONAUTS(original runs, natch!) 3) Who really owns Marvelman (in less than 10 words)? 4) a) Was “Jimmy Broxton” the artist on KNIGHT & SQUIRE a pseudonym? b)If so, who for? 1:59:40-end:  Closing comments.  Extra apologies.  A notice is made (as it was above) that next week is a skip week and so we will not be around but shall return the week after that.

If all of this sets your glands a-salivatin', then feel free to pull up a stool and being listening now!

Wait, What? Ep. 113: Technically Difficult

As always, we hope you enjoy and thanks for listening!

He's Still "The Only Bear On The C.I.A. Death List!" COMICS! Sometimes SHAKO! Speaks!

Rejoice fans of quality reviews! For to celebrate the release of the SHAKO! TPB collection I decided not to review it. For a start I won't have any money until Christmas is over. And I'm talking there about the first Christmas after MiracleBoy leaves home in about 2025. No, I decided to do something else instead to celebrate this momentous occasion. What follows is not entirely sane but then again what is, my American friends, what is?!?

Most importantly of course I decided not to review the SHAKO! TPB as I already reviewed its contents HERE. You will of course remember that vividly because you have nothing else to do but remember badly written old posts on The Savage Critics. So, there didn't seem much point in going over it again but it also seemed a bit shoddy to let the occasion pass uncommemorated. Because as much as I love 2000AD's SHAKO! (and, boy, do I love SHAKO!) I never thought it would be collected. Truly, these are the days.

Your luck was in though as since I am a Savage Critic I, naturally, know loads of people in Comics, or as we gifted insiders call it - The Biz. And using my "juice" I reached out and managed to get the contact details for the star of the book, SHAKO! himself. SHAKO! has kept a low profile since his 2000AD appearance moving into the area of plumbing due to the "perennial" nature of the work and the reliable income it provides for a family oriented bear like SHAKO!. SHAKO! still retains fond memories of his comics work and remained humble and gracious throughout our encounter. Because encounter SHAKO! I did. In fact, as his van was in the garage, I arranged to meet him around the corner from his house at a caff where we both tucked into a full English courtesy of The Savage Critics’ robust expense account. The following conversation ensued:

JK: SHAKO!’s quite an unusual name for a bear isn't it? SHAKO!: No, not really. Although in the strip it claims  “It means simply...KILLER!” or some other such guff. But I'll let you in on a little secret - it’s actually Inuit for Grace Of The Sun’s Soft Fade. Sorry to disillusion everyone there.

JK: Ha! I can see why Mills' went for "...KILLER!" That's more in line with the spirit of the strip. Were you ever bothered by the levels of violence? I mean the audience for this was largely children after all...

SHAKO!: No, no. You can't mollycoddle children. The world is full of things children shouldn't be exposed to but they have a quite unerring radar when it comes to locating them. I mean, sure, it was over the top but it could have been worse. Look, it isn't complicated; do you know the only sure way to stop your kids from finding your jazz mags in the airing cupboard?

JK: Er, no.

SHAKO!: Don't have any jazz mags in your airing cupboard.

JK: Er.

SHAKO!: C'mon, who's going to tell the world it can't have its jazz mags? It just doesn't work like that! So inoculating the little blighters was, I guess, the intention behind all that newsprint nastiness. Of course by jazz mags I mean violence. I'm sorry, I had a late call out last night to bleed a pensioner's radiators. I 'm still a bit tired, not as young as I was y'know. I'm no Spring bear! Could we keep it lighter maybe?

JK: Sure. Sure. You were kidding a bit back there weren't you?

SHAKO!: Yeah, heh. Polar bears love deadpan, what can I say?

JK: I thought so, it's just hard to tell with the snout and the fur and all that.

SHAKO!: That does help with the deadpan. Still, I mean the violence in my strip was nothing compared to that in HOOK JAW. That was like, well, I don't know what that was like! It was off the scale. I'm amazed no one ended up in prison over it. He had a real knack for the violence, I'll give him that. And in real life he was such a sweetie!

JK: You mean Pat Mills?

SHAKO!: I meant Hook Jaw actually but I suppose the same might be said for Pat Mills, yes.

JK: You worked together quite recently didn't you? You and Hook Jaw?

SHAKO!: That’s right! We did indeed. It was just a bit of fluff really, stunt casting overseas under nom de plumes. A bit like when Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing would turn up in some Italian fiasco no-one in England would see for decades. Seabear and Grizzlyshark? I don’t think many people saw it but when you get to our age that’s not so important. Your priorities change as you age and it actually gets to the point where it’s just nice to be asked. I mean at my age my cubs have got cubs of their own so they're too busy to bother with boring old me! Something like Seabear? That's just the ticket, you know? A bit of a lark. Peps the old bones up a bit. Hardly high art, of course, but it was nice to stretch the acting chops again and, of course, Hooky was a riot. No airs or graces with that one! Ho! We kept in touch afterwards. Right up until…

(Legal Note: SEABEAR & GRIZZLY SHARK are nothing to do with HOOK JAW or SHAKO! Nor did the creators intend any such inferences to be made. The shark doesn't even have a hook in its jaw. I am just having a spot of fun. Is that still legal? EH!?!)

JK: Yes, I heard you were there when he…went.

SHAKO!: I…yes..it…sorry…

JK: It’s alright, we can move on if you like.

SHAKO!: No…no. I think Hooky would want people to know he was at peace at the end. In fact his spirits were quite high if anything. You know they’d just started reprinting his work in STRIP? People were recognising him again. Staff and kids from the other wards would go see him in the Day Room and ask for his autographs. Oh, he was fair basking in it. It was nice timing as well because a couple of days later…he...it was...

JK: It’s okay. I know this must be difficult for you...

SHAKO!: Yes..but, no, actually in a strange way it was kind of comforting. I’m not really sure what happened to tell the truth. It was Tuesday visiting and I was sat next to his bed and I remember I was telling him about this little cameo I’d made in one of those terrible Event things. One of those art by committee things. Dreadful tat but awfully popular with the youngsters. There were like five writers or something ,and they still got which Pole we bears live at totally arse about tit. Bless his cotton socks, Hooky was trying not to laugh because of the pain; the drugs weren't really touching it by this point. And suddenly, suddenly I realise there’s a man in the room. Seems daft but at first I thought it was a bear. Big fellow he was. And hairy? I’ll say he was hairy, alright! It was his eyes though, his eyes that held you. Great sad things they were. Sad but dignified. Like he’d been hated by the world and forgiven it. And this chap, he puts his hand on Hooky’s dorsal, and it’s a big hand festooned with these big rings, and he puts this big hand on Hooky like a feather landing. And all the tension in Hooky’s body just goes and this fellow says, in this burr, this rumble, he says, and I can remember every word still, he says:

“S’alright, Hooky. S’all alright, now. C’mon, me Duck, time to go home. Time to go back where the stories live. It’s just going home, luv. They've all missed you, Hooky. C’mon, son. C’mon now. Gently Bently and off home we go.”

And when he lifted his big ringed hand, well, I could tell from how he was laid that Hooky was gone. Well, I mean, obviously he was still there but…

JK: I understand. It sounds very…odd. It sounds like a very…I guess quite a spiritual moment.

SHAKO!: Oh, it was. Of course then I look and this big hairy fellow’s only gone and put shoe polish on his face and now he's chasing nurses down the corridor while making farting noises with his lips.

JK: …!

SHAKO!: Yes, it did take the shine off of things a bit.

JK: Well, er, that sounds like a good place to finish. I thank you for your time and I wish the book every success.

SHAKO!: Oh no, thank you. And I just have to say it’s not about success it’s just...when you're young it's all about the future isn't it? But then you get on a bit and you realise you aren't going to be in the future but you want to have done your bit.

JK: Entertained people?

SHAKO!: Yes. Yes! Maybe more but that'll do. That's no small thing. It's a bit of a magical thing even.

JK: The magic of stories.

SHAKO!: Yes. The lovely, lovely stories. Y'know, for the young.

JK: Thank you, SHAKO! ________________________________________________________

Postscript: Two days later I rang SHAKO! to see if he wanted to give the transcript a once over. The phone was answered by a man who said only “Shako’s with the stories now, luv.” Before the receiver was replaced softly.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This one was for SHAKO! and all the stories, and all the kids that read them.

This one was for all of the COMICS!!!

Wait, What? Ep. 106: You Are Number Six.

At Graeme's Behest: the cover to Colder #1

Yeah, that's a pleasant way to get your Tuesday rolling, eh?

Anyhoo, very truncated version of things this time around, I'm afraid but after the jump...show notes!

So yeah, I've got a trip that I'll be on for a few days which means I'm trying to write this AND pack AND panic AND forget the one thing I'm not going to remember until I've been the road for two hours.  But am I letting any of that get in the way of bringing you this podcast?  I say thee: nay!  (Though, verily, I shall admit to assing it by half...)

Oh, and I got a big upgrade on the recording end of things but unfortunately it may be why there's a bit of crackle in the opening of the podcast.  Sorry about that--I hope to have that figured out by next episode...

0:00-41:19:  Greetings!  The small talk is eensy-sized this time around as we get right into the topic of the news that day--the pending cancellation of Hellblazer at Vertigo and the launch of Constantine over at the DCU. Graeme brings the facts; Jeff brings the wild conspiratorial speculation.  (Also, Jeff was a little behind the curve this week, so feel free to create a quick & easy drinking game where you take a drink every time Graeme informs him of something of which he was unaware. You will be feeling no pain in absolutely no time at all.)  Is Vertigo effed in the ay?  Maybe. Is that as bad for the marketplace as it would've been ten years ago?  Maybe not.  Somewhat tangentially related: whatever happened to the NuMarvel generation of creators? Why does Aardvark Books in San Francisco have the used graphic novel section that it does?  And other questions lead us into…

41:19-41:54: Intermission 1!

41:54-1:08:21:  For an early birthday present, Jeff picked up a digital subscription to 2000AD and Graeme has been keeping up with it lately, and so much discussion ensues over issues #1806-1808. Spoilers ahoy (especially for #1808). Want to hear us talk Judge Dredd by Al Ewing and Henry Flint; ABC Warriors by Pat Mills and Clint Langley; Brass Sun by Ian Edgington and I.N.J. Culbard; Low Life by Rob Williams and D'Israeli; and The Simping Detective by Simon Spurrier and Simon Coleby?  Then this is the thirty-seven minutes for you! ( Oh, and if you've never seen the original Prisoner--spoilers! at 1:00:36-1:01:36.)

1:08:21-1:11:19: Then, at the very tail end of things, Graeme discusses Action Comics #14 by Grant Morrison, Sholly Fisch, Rags Morales and Chris Sprouse.  Because he just couldn't bring himself to wait until after...

1:11:19-1:11:42:  Intermission 2!

1:11:42-end:  Since Graeme has been to the store (and Jeff hasn't), he leads with reviews, in alphabetical order, no less, of Colder by Paul Tobin and Juan Ferreyra; Earth 2 #6 by James Robinson and Nicola Scott; Iron Man #1 by Kieron Gillen and Greg Land (and also AvX: Consequences); Stumptown v2 #3 by Greg Rucka and Matthew Southworth; Willow Wonderland #1 by Jeff Parker and Brian Ching; and, outside of alphabetical order (and our natural laws of time, space, and arguably taste), the X-Men: Iceman hardcover collecting the miniseries by J.M. DeMatteis and Alan Kupperberg from 1984.

Jeff, by contrast, is utterly flummoxed by the digital comic Batman: Li'l Gotham by Dustin Nguyen and Derek Fridolfs and happily shares the flum with everyone.  And while we're on the flum tip, Jeff also explains his preparations for reading Marvel comics in a legit non-piratey way as well as his first current Marvel comic in a long time: Captain America #19 by Ed Brubaker and Steve Epting.  Also, the book that really knocked him off his chair: the third issue of Ethan Rilly's Pope Hats:  a stunningly strong piece of cartooning and storytelling that is completely worth your time and cash.

[Stealth bonus #1: we also talk about Sean Howe's amazing Marvel Comics: The Untold Story a bit more toward the end.]

[Stealth bonus #2:  Rather than edit out that bit about my Skype pic, here it is in it's teeny-tiny glory:]

[Stealth bonus #3:  You'll know it when you hear it…]

Again, apologies the show notes are so sparse this time around.  To make up for it, I put this up into the ether a little early so you may have already seen the podcast already on iTunes.  But if not,  you are certainly encouraged to have at it below:

Wait, What? Ep. 106: You Are Number Six.

As always, we hope you enjoy and thank you for listening!

"We'll Have Our Race Back, America!" COMICS! Sometimes The President is Frankenstein!

Pat Mills! Kevin O'Neill! A comic that is basically Marshal Law but where cars stand in for the super power set! That's what this one is about, when it actually stays on track. Which it doesn't. Oh, belated Happy 4th July!

So, I went to Cornwall for the week. There may have been corn but there certainly wasn't walls of the stuff. Cornwall is very clean. Disturbingly clean. It was okay, however, I felt super guilty about not posting anything. Then...well, when Messrs. Hibbs, Khosla and Lester are demonstrating How Words Are  Done I content myself with the crossword (1. DOWN: Superfluous "J-o-h_ ") So, this one's just an attempt to limber up and get back into the flow.

.....GO!

DEATH RACE 2020 #1-3 Art by Kevin O’Neill Written by Pat Mills & Tony skinner Lettered by Christine Barnett Coloured by Digital Chameleon Celebrity Car Crash Corners by Dave Cooper,Pat Moriarty  and Bob Fingerman Roger Corman’s Cosmic Comics, $2.50ea (1995) DEATH RACE 2020 is based in part on the film Death Race 2000 written by Robert Thom and Charles Griffith, directed by Paul Bartel, and produced by Roger Corman

So briefly did Roger Corman’s Cosmic Comics imprint last that it doesn't even have a Wikipedia entry. The Krankies have a Wikipedia entry, but not Roger Corman’s Cosmic Comics. But, yes, Roger Corman lent his name to a comics imprint. It was probably one of those Brewster’s Millions type deals that happen more than you would think in real life (which means they only have to have happened once). The comics produced were all based on or were continuations of Corman movie properties. So, there were comics based on Rock'n'Roll High School, The Little Shop of Horrors and Caged Heat 3000. Perhaps someone has read those, if so do let me know how they were. I'd be interested to know if the appeal of a musical can be reproduced on the comics page and, more importantly, also whether the appeal of bawdy teen comedies and chicks behind bars flicks can make good comics. Since this appeal largely revolves around the solitary and borderline OCD activity of pantslessley sitting hunched over sweatily stabbing the remote to pause the film and capture a frozen slice of aureole in a shower scene, I doubt it. Oh yeah, there was also a comic based on Death Race 2000, this comic: DEATH RACE 2020.

(In the comments Mr. Brian Hibbs,  Industry Legend, takes time out from hand-selling SAGA to correctly state that the original Little Shop of Horrors was not a musical.)

The original film, Death Race 2000, was a low budget piece of schlock which involved a Future America which held a legal race where drivers scored points for running over pedestrians. This conceit of a murderous Wacky Races was pretty much the film’s one gift to posterity. And electric blue eye shadow applied liberally. Well, pop culture posterity. The central conceit has remained tenaciously appealing, particularly in the area of gaming. I remember playing Carmageddon 1 and 2 on the PC back in the day and I’m pretty sure GTA’s gameplay was coloured by this film’s existence.  The other thing the film is remembered for is an early role for Sly Stallone. In the first two issues director Paul Bartel reminisces about the film and reveals that Sly was shy about his bum being exposed and requested it be secreted beneath a towel during the massage scene.  What the film isn't remembered for is being very good. It is fun though and the energy of everyone involved manage to make it pleasantly daft viewing.

It’s the kind of film everyone thinks would have been a lot better if it had cost a lot more. Until someone remakes it and it costs a lot more. Which they did in 2008 as Death Race, “starring” Jason Statham. I haven't seen it. That's because I have no time for Jason Statham films. Not because I'm a snob but because I caught a bit of one of those Transporter films and I said, "This is so fucking badly done that if it was a '70s Roger Moore film a drunk would witness some of this daft shit, do a double take and throw his bottle away."  Not thirty seconds passed before this exact thing happened.  I am not making that up. So, no, I have no desire to spend my twilight years watching what are basically bad Roger Moore films. I'm not that desperate for 'irony', thanks. And also, Statham's an uppity oik, he hasn't done the necessaries to deserve his station. It’s no good just jumping straight to The Wild Geese with The Expendables, Statham. You don’t get to do that. The Wild Geese has to be earned, Jason Statham. Where’s your Man Who Haunted Himself, where’s your North Sea Hijack, where’s your Persuaders, Jason Statham? Nowhere. That’s where, Jason Statham. There’s just no respect for the artist’s journey in your work, Statham. Supporting the work of Jason Statham is like keying Roger Moore’s car. Really, I wouldn't want to overstate this but watching Jason Statham films takes us all just one step closer to burning children for fun and using human faeces as currency. So, no, I haven’t seen Death Race. If you have, I hope you enjoyed it.

DEATH RACE 2020 isn't an adaptation of the original it’s a sequel of sorts, set as it is some 20 years after the end of the original and with Frankenstein, the race’s winner, now President of a country in which the Death Race is now illegal. As with most illegal things though the races continue because good times always find a way! Like the film the comic is intended as satire and, like the film, the satire isn't subtle, which is why Pat Mills (and Tony Skinner) is such a great choice. Pat Mills is the kind of writer who can make a strip about a killer polar bear a satirical soapbox so a strip about a satirical soapbox derby is right up his tailpipe.

All the usual Millsian targets are here shambling complacently about as he (and Tony Skinner) bears down on them with the usual ferociously obvious and aggressively strident attacks. This isn't the kind of stuff that makes for reasoned and enlightening debate but it does make for ridiculously entertaining comics. Religion, psychology, the myth of Good triumphing over Evil, the media, stupidity, politics and so on and so forth are all run down and then backed over until the tread on Mills & Skinners' truculent tyres are almost worn away.

In 1985 Wiseblood  released  Motorslug which had a b-side called Death Rape 2000.  (Yeah, sorry it’s not a David Bowie reference. But he scares us old people. Ooooooo! Don’t paint your face and sing about space, David Bowie!) Not only was Death Rape 2000 evidence that young people will always enjoy using the term rape frivolously it was also was one of those "infinite" records they could do by doing whatever they did with the grooves and the vinyl and that stuff. I don’t know. Now you could do it with computers but back then they did it with physical things in the world of matter. Anyway, it was just a repetitive drumbeat (Bam!-Bam!_BAM!-Bam!-Bam!-BAM! Etc.) and I'm sure I  once filled a C120 tape with its tireless dirge because I was always a crazy fun guy loved by ladies and respected by peers. I guess Pat Mills/Tony Skinner’s  writing is a lot like that, repetitive, unvarying in tone or pitch, wearing you down with its remorselessness. Yet, strangely, something I enjoy spending time with.

I'm sure in person he can charm the birds from the trees but, what Pat Mills' approach suggests to me is an all encompassing (and highly entertaining) misanthropy. Mills seems keen on that period where we all dressed in woad, killed the king once a year and the only products from apple were pie and juice. Rolling the clock back that far might be a bit of a stretch and limits the sympathy of a modern audience. But Mills isn't (ever) after audience sympathy, he's after The Man! Although, even this gets confusing. Frankenstein, like many a Mills' "hero" (particularly Mills & O'Neill's Marshal  Law) is pretty much the embodiment of the system he bucks against. The line between what is Wrong and Right is a bit blurry in Mills stuff, stuff which seems to suggest that doing the Wrong Thing is okay as long as you are The Right Man For The Job. Said job being Sticking It To The Man. And The Man isn't you because you Feel Bad about, er, things. It's okay he isn't offering solutions, he just wants people to know there are problems. Which is pretty laudable and since it involves cars powered by the blood of their victims and terrible puns also pretty enjoyable.

Kevin O'Neill is, of course, having a whale of a time on these pages. Vehicles the size of city blocks trundling around smushing all traffic before them, a wired up grandmother's head spitting reactionary bile, a nun bouncing off a wall with a sanctimonious splat, the nipples of news anchors squirming like games players thumbs under a shrink-wrapped top, said top proclaiming "T'n'A", yes, these are all very much things I imagine Kevin O'Neill had fun with. They are certainly things I had fun with seeing Kevin O'Neil drawing. O'Neill is essential to the success of this comic as is testified by my totally ignoring issues 4 thru 8, as they were illustrated by Trevor Goring and I do not wish to upset Trevor Goring. I'm sure he brightens up the life of everyone he comes into contact with, but Trevor Goring is no Kevin O'Neill. But then, who is? Yes, Kevin O'Neill is, thanks for that. Given the series premise it's not surprising that Mills, Skinner and O'Neil arrive in J G Ballard territory pretty lickety split. O'Neill gets to restage that unfortunate Dallas visit together with background cameos from famous assassins and illustrates possibly Mills' greatest (and worst) pun. This may upset some readers, which is entirely intentional, I would have thought. However the fact is it's probably going to not upset a lot more. Given the state of our psychic mindscapes these days it's going to take much more than assassination as slapstick to make people blink.

DEATH RACE 2020 is Pat Mills' practically trademarked satirical silliness illustrated by the unique and worrying Kevin O'Neill and is thus VERY GOOD!

And now to enjoy the British monsoon which is blighting all the laughter in our lives this summer! That's okay because the weather never affects - COMICS!!!

Wait, What? Ep. 63.1: Classic's Classic

You know what programming languages need? They totally need <cant stop> </wont stop> tags, amirite?  (I would also be equally happy if there were <baller> </shot caller> tags as well, but maybe those would be restricted to the "Diddy on Rails" language, I really couldn't say.)

What I can say, is that Wait, What? Ep. 63.1 is here, and in it Graeme McMillan and I discuss oddball treasures from all over the globe, such as The Spy vs. Spy Omnibus by Antonio Prohias; Nemesis The Warlock by Pat Mills, Kevin O'Neill and Bryan Talbot; Strontium Dog by John Wagner, Alan Grant, and Carlos Ezquerra; Crying Freeman by Kazuo Koike and Ryochi Ikegami; and we dollop more praise on Ganges #4 by Kevin Huizenga because honestly that sucker could probably use another five or six dollops.

Sinister ducks have probably already unearthed us on iTunes, but they are also invited to waddle about in the dark while listening to us here:

Wait, What? Ep. 63.1: Classic\'s Classic

Installment 2 is right around the corner with some slightly more mainstream fare (although pacing that is far more odd) and somewhere in one of these installments is a dramatic reveal from Graeme about Brad Meltzer's Decoded(!) (Or !!!, depending.)

As always, thanks for listening and we hope you enjoy!

"Assholes, Assemble!" Comics! Barbed Wire Laffs Inside!

Before I start blabbing about a guy who hunts heroes but hasn't found any yet here’s some advice I know wish I’d had when I was a teenager:

Wise words there, kids. Some not so wise ones after the break… You know who hates super-heroes? No, not Warren Ellis and Garth Ennis! Their hatred of super-heroes is more like when you you’re 15 and you see your best mate down the shops with his girlfriend and when she’s looking in a window he rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out before snapping to attention and putting his arm back around her when she turns round. It’s more like irritation that they have to write these capes things to pay for their more personal masterpieces consisting as they do of New Scientist articles espoused by the same snippy character in a number of different wigs or rape and dismemberment jokes legitimized by industrial levels of sentimentality. No, that’s less like hatred than the low level resentment of any thermo-dynamic miracle who spends their life behind a desk having to actually work for a living. Pat Mills, however, Pat Mills has a hard-on for super-heroes as big as a Riot Squad Cop’s night stick and he knows how to swing that sucker to inflict maximum dental reconstructive surgery. Swing away, Pat Mills. Swing away!

MARSHAL LAW: FEAR ASYLUM

By Kevin O’Neill/Mark A. Nelson (a), Pat Mills (w), Mark Chiarello, Dave Stewart(c), Phil Felix, Bill Oakley & Elli DeVille(l)

(2003,Titan Books, £14.99/£24.95)

Marshal Law was created by Pat Mills and Kevin O’Neill in 1987 for an Epic (Marvel) Comics series which has been much discussed by many great minds. The character then ping-ponged around various publishers teaming up with various characters retaining its relentless signature mix of super-hero satire, socio-political commentary and good crude fun. The latter volumes don’t get nearly as much attention as it’s generally agreed that they slide into formula and become one-note one-joke (like me!) affairs with decreasing returns. So rather than dissect the first far more seriously intentioned volume I’ll be turning my watery eye on the final collection. Because that’s where I swim, pal, in the shallows. Also, I just happened to pick it up while I was rearranging the deceased goldfishes’ bowl in The Archive. Anyway the good news is there’s still meat on the bone although it does get a bit grey and gristly towards the end. But, hey, maybe that’s to be expected given how ML comics work? Let’s me and you have a looky loo!

MARSHAL LAW TAKES MANHATTAN (1989) has many notable aspects but none, I think, more notable than the fact that it was initially published by the now entirely humourless Marvel Comics. Almost entirely humourless, I guess, since Marvel has given us the joy of the Marvel Architects photoshoot:

"Blue Steel!"

In this one-shot Pat Mills explicitly recasts super-heroes as products of metal illness. Having already steamrollered over the heroes of The Golden Age in the previous volume (SUPER BABYLON, Dark Horse, 1992) this story focuses more on the Silver and Bronze Age heroes. All your Mighty Marvel favourites are here with the dysfunctions and disabilities inherent in their origins made plain. The whole thing has the air of an issue of NOT BRAND ECCH that has spent a traumatic time in borstal and returned to wreak revenge armed with a ball peen hammer and a roll of duct tape.

"But, but whatever can you mean?!?"

Captain America sucks his thumb while holding the flag and conducting interminable monologues before occasionally leaping into action and describing his actions (“Aiee! Now we are going up the stairs!”), Mister Fantastic talks to his invisible wife (who is patently a delusion), Doctor Strange is a hebephrenic and Daredevil wanders about in the background bumping into things. It’s obvious, brutal, funny and all the more obvious, brutal and funny since Pat Mills is also, in his patented Pat Mills-y way making a point.

"Better than the wink at the end of WHTTMOT anyday!"

This Millsian point is embodied by The Persecutor (remarkably similar to The Punisher) who the good Marshal has been dispatched to bring in by his odious boss McGland. A former CIA Specialist in Enhanced Interrogation Techniques The Persecutor is a wholly unsympathetic turd. He’s used by Mills as an example of where the psychosis of super heroes leads a society. Mills argues that the acceptance of such practices is only possible in a society which holds the default position that it is The Good Guy. Because if you are The Good Guy then nothing you do is wrong.

Interestingly, at least to me, Pat Mills maintains that the concept of the super-hero has been absorbed into Western culture in a damaging way as it, along with numerous other factors, allows the West to casts itself as The Good Guy in an internal cartoon narrative that reduces complex and dangerous real world issues into ones of childish simplicity. If only there were some recent examples of that. If only there weren't. If only there were not. And so, for Mr. Mills, super-heroes are fully worthy of the shock treatment he is dispensing.

Which is okay as far as it goes. I mean I’m a long time cape fan so I’m not unaware that the first response to this is that, yeah, but, super heroes embody all the good qualities in humanity, “With great power must come responsibility” and all that trad jazz, dad. Which is true but I think it’s also true that the tendency is to ignore the “responsibility” bit and just focus on the “powers” bit and I think that’s where Mills has a point. But that was a long time ago when people read cape comics in their hundreds of thousands and the heroes actually meant something other than a stepping stone into TV.

Okay. So it kind of yells at you like an angry hobo but it’s a hobo with a point and also a hobo with a killer sick sense of humour and, since the hobo has been designed by the Gaudi of the Grotesque Mr. Kevin O’Neill, the whole thing ends up being diagnosed as VERY GOOD!

The second story collected here is SECRET TRIBUNAL (1993) which basically takes the Legion of Super Heroes and feeds them to the movie Alien while pausing to spit on the excesses of the Nineties. A case of, “In space no one can hear your voice break, dude!”

"BLIP!"

Now, Pat Mills’ work probably gets called a lot of things but it’s probably rarely called sweet and touching. That’s “touching” in the nice sense, not the one that  involves years of therapy and mental anguish. Despite the body horror, gore, expletives, pouch festooned bosoms, crude innuendo and typical strident delivery SECRET TRIBUNAL manages to actually be both sweet and touching. The focus of the story is Growing Boy who is seeking entry into the League of Heroes but fears that when the time comes he will fail to perform, he will fail to, um, grow. This is really quite a clever way of addressing teenage fears and insecurities while at the same time appearing to mock them. It’s all the cleverer for combining it with the gyno-horror of the Alien movies. Of course you may think this is just stone obvious in which case you are not me, and that, pal, is your reward; not being me. Trust me, that's better than diamonds. There’s also another layer of intelligence since quite early on Growing Boy becomes experienced at the fluttering lips and silky limbs of Super Sensitive Girl.

"Hands above the covers, Paul Levitz! Hands ABOVE the covers!"

He recalls that “I can still see her face now…congested, panting like an animal…making suggestions I never expected to be uttered from female lips” and I’m pretty sure they aren't things like: “Why don’t you go down the pub and have some time to yourself.” so where the beast with two backs is concerned Growing Boy is sorted for “Eee!”s and jizz but still he fears being unable to “perform”. This of course is, I believe, because in cape comics the fight scenes are analogous to the fuck scenes in a porno. And since Growing Boy’s money shot is illustrated by Kevin O’Neill it looks like this:

"Do you remember the first time...?"

Ah, yes, the aliens. Obviously the League of Heroes, being as they are a bunch of peer pressurized hormone crazed teens, are outmatched from the off and even the venerable Marshal might not tip the scales in their favour. Luckily our beleaguered heroes are powered up by the presence of The Secret Tribunal! Oh my, what a lovely distillation of Nineties nonsense they are too. Here are their names: Lichenstein, Anti-Man, Vrilla, Ragnarok, Breathless and Rune! The ridiculousness of the time when people who drew like disturbed 8 year olds ruled the roost is channeled to fine effect by Kevin O’Neill. A more garish collection of pouches, shoulder-pads, wasp-waists, big honkers, cigars and headscarves can rarely have been seen. Well, outside of the original travesties, natch.

"Audacious!"

The dialogue these badly designed buffoons spout is delightfully stilted. Breathless, who is basically a male sex-fetish with pouches for nipples, delivers the following wonder, “It’s so hard to find men to help me gain my explosive energy. They find me repulsive…”. It’s the seamless combination of these high-impact idiots with the more restrained old school stylings of the League together with the warped and turbulent textures of the Aliens which is Kevin O’Neill’s greatest achievement here. Not once do the differing styles chafe against each other and not once do they lose their distinctiveness. Also the League’s spaceship looks like a cock with four balls. That’s never not funny in fact it’s VERY GOOD!

"Cliches unbound! Well, bound with barbed wire but still cliches!"

Alas, things take a bit of a stumble with THE MASK/MARSHAL LAW (1998) on the second page of which the sweet Marshal declares “I’m just going through the motions.” It’s hard not to take this literally as Mills and O’Neill struggle to bring some of the old magic back in a tale in which the charming Marshal goes on One Lat Mission against his original nemesis The Sleepman who is now ridiculously over-powered due to his wearing The Mask. Oh, it’s fun enough stuff but nowhere near as psychotically entertaining as its predecessors. Mills struggles to make a Mills-y statement with the material falling back on the old stand by of masks allow people to behave without inhibitions which isn't original or terribly interesting but does allow Kevin O’Neill to bust his nuts all over the pages in a series of flagrantly unsettling S/M scenarios.

"It isn't THAT bad!"

The biggest problem for the series is the very nature of the series. Due to its parasitic nature Marshal Law only really works when it has something of substance to nail to a cross. By this time Mills and O’Neill have eviscerated all the old familiar favourites and are having to hunt and peck the sterile ground of modern comics for sustenance. Marshal Law’s catch-phrase is “I’m a hero hunter. I haven’t found any yet.” Judging by the much remarked upon lack of invention and creativity in the modern North American Super-Hero genre he’s got no chance once he hits the noughties. But there is hope in the last page that ML will find cape comics worthy of hating again. When the book ends they aren't even worthy of that. Because they don’t mean anything now, not even anything bad, just…nothing. Even Marshal Law can’t fight nothing. But he tries and God loves a trier (also keen on: sacrifices) so in my book this one was GOOD!

I just love this panel, thats all.

So the scores on the doors seem to indicate that MARSHAL LAW: FEAR ASYLUM is VERY GOOD!

JACK KIRBY IS CALLING YOU WITH HIS MIND, MY FRIEND!!!

Hey, I’m looking for a few good people. Well, actually I’m looking for about 5000 people with more money than sense and a retailer with no sense of self-preservation. I think that’s doable. I've seen the sales figures for NEW AVENGERS so there’s way more than 5000 people out there drunk in charge of 5 dollar bills. What we do, right, is take up Marvel on their “Order 5,000 copies of this dreadful ULTIMATE FALL-OUT comic we can’t shift and you can have a free advert in a Marvel comic guaranteed not to reach any new customers.” Yup, in times of economic hardship Marvel are always there for the retailers. I’m sure you can see where this is going: we order the copies via our retailer and send in an advert consisting of this:

We might also put some words on it. We could put “Jack Kirby (August 28, 1917 – February 6, 1994). The Original Marvel Architect.” Or “The man who paid for everybody involved in this comic to go to Hooters on expenses.” Or Stan Lee got his, where’s Jack’s?” Or “Those mediocre movies whose box office performance and merchandising revenue you’re all so puffed up about? Totally down to this pipe smoking high-waisters wearing dude. His name’s JACK KIRBY in case you forgot!” I don’t know, we could work on it a bit. What? Oh, what do we do with 5000 bad ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN comics? Build a career, baby. Build a career and then go into TV! Sheesh! Tough crowd!

Have a nice weekend all and if you go into your LCS buy some COMICS!!!

“…The Only Bear On The C.I.A. Death List!” COMICS! They used to be for Kids, y’know!

So I read a '70s children's comic about a bear. Yeah, I'd stick with the Podcast below too.

While I greatly enjoyed the U.S. Bronze Age I was, and remain, more of a fan of '70s Brit comics. Gonna talk about such a series now. It ain't exactly Howard The Duck, knoworrimean?

2000AD EXTREME EDITION #18

(Published by Rebellion, 31 October 2006,£2.99)

Reprints:

SHAKO by Pat Mills(w), John Wagner(w), Ramon Sola(a), Arancio(a), Dodderio and Lopez-Vera

Tharg’s Future Shocks: The Shop That Sold Everything by Grant Morrison(w) and John Stokes(a)

PROJECT OVERKILL by Kelvin Gosnell(w), Ian Gibson(a) and Jesus Redondo(a)

As you can tell from the above 2000AD EXTREME was a UK magazine that reprinted the most Zarjaz Thrills from the past of The Galaxy’s Greatest Comic but today we’ll be all about the SHAKO.

“SHAKO! The Eskimo Word For The Great White Bear. It Means Simply…KILLER!”

In The Artic Circle a plane carrying the C.I.A.’s deadliest weapon crashes and its cargo of viral death is swallowed by the ambling bear men will come to know as SHAKO! A desperate race is on to recover the capsule without destroying it! Civilisation vs Nature! Man vs. Bear! In the land of SHAKO Man’s destiny is DEATH!

  1. “It Was The Little One – The One Who Had Played With SHAKO…!”

SHAKO was originally presented during 1977 in thirteen weekly installments of around six pages each.  Every episode basically involved SHAKO meeting a new threat and being hurt by it before overcoming and eating it. The wider narrative involving the hunt for him lingered around the edges. Despite the necessarily formulaic nature and page limitations of the presentation the writers were able to stuff a whole load of goodies in there to keep the kids minds active. What? Oh yeah, this relentlessly brutal and savage tale was printed in a comic sold to children. I read it when I was a kid. Now, it isn’t something I’m proud of but young me really dug the sight of a polar bear washing its paws in a man’s face while the guy screamed stuff like “Oh God! The claws! Its terrible claws are tearing my soft face apart like toilet paper in the rain! The pain! Jesus wept! The pain! He’s eating me alive! Sweet Mercy…..!” SHAKO is fast paced pulp action so visceral and raw that it seems to have been chucked onto the page. This impression is mostly due to the artwork which is cheap and rushed looking. The best of the artists is Sola(?) who starts the series off with art that balances detail and urgency in just about the right measure. Things get a bit choppy after that with the next best art being that of Dodderio(?) whose work looks like a less talented Young Mike McMahon. As variable and hasty as the art may be it does manage to convey the required vicious urgency. It is also possible that a tale as mind bogglingly violent and unrepentantly trashy as SHAKO doesn’t need art that’s polite or pretty. It doesn’t really matter though as the real treat is the overheated and shrill writing. There’s real art to writing something which is at once as contradictorily awful and awesome as SHAKO appears to my age addled mind. So I’ll be banging on about the writing from here on in. With hindsight this stuff reads as though the writers really weren’t that keen on kids. Gave us some memorable comics though. In thirty years time I doubt I’ll remember CRIMINAL as vividly as this chaotically charming series. Maybe that’s because things imprint more vividly on fresh minds, maybe, but it’s probably because in thirty years time I’ll be dead. Thanks to my youthful reading though it won’t be at the claws of a polar bear. Nope, I’m not going near any polar bears anytime soon, pal. Because other than maliciously scaring the hot poop out of children SHAKO contained important lessons about misanthropy and the dangers of the natural world; sound preparation for any child. It isn’t healthy that children should be insulated from fear but it is healthy that they should fear the right things; these, on this evidence, being bears and the entirety of humankind.

2. “These Humans Were FUN!” Humanity in SHAKO is largely presented as being a bunch vile fools who are basically content to prod nature for their own amusement or profit until nature gets suitably miffed and tears off their face to wave in front of their lidless eyes like a bloody hanky. The only exception to this is a child who befriends and saves SHAKO (thus naturally leading to more deaths!). Unk, as he is known, is too innocent and unspoiled by civilisation to fear Shako and so meets him on his own terms and is rewarded by survival. Yes, I know that sounds horrible and preachy, but that’s what happens. If you want me to lie to you money will have to be involved, I have principles you know. Surprising precisely no one (particularly not anyone who has read a Pat Mills comic) the big theme/message of SHAKO is that nature=Good and civilisation=Bad. Now, no one who drives a car wants to hear that, so Mills/Wagner bury it under a thick blanket of inventive violence and research.

3. “Like All Polar Bears He Was Very Curious…” Yes, Mills and Wagner have done their research. The whole tale is peppered with instances of scientifically verified bear behaviour. Polar Bears do forage in the trash near human settlements, they have been known to fight Walruses, they do kill their prey by crushing the head in their jaws, etc. The bit where Shako cunningly covers his black button of a nose to sneak up on his prey is probably more folkloric than scientific, but it does demonstrate the breadth of their research. Not actually knowing either Pat Mills or John Wagner personally and given the curious absence of academic attention given to SHAKO, I’m unsure as to whether they read several dusty tomes by learned men with frostbitten cheeks or just flicked through The Ladybird Book of Bears. The point is they read something and worked it into their narrative. This does give the sensationalistic shenanigans some slight veneer of plausibility. Which is handy because without it SHAKO would be pulp nonsense at its most scruffily bloody and lacking in any plausibility in which to couch its polemical teeth.

4. “The Humans Were Hurting Him Again. They Must Be Taught A Lesson…” In keeping with the ideological premise Shako is a bear and he is just bearing about doing his bear thang until humanity ruins his day with its ill advised chemical weapons in easily swallowed capsule form. SHAKO’s not sadistic as such he just has different terms of reference what with him being a bear and all. Often when he is throwing people around like screaming rag dolls or rolling around on them crushing every bone in their body he is fact “playing”. Later though SHAKO does start hating and playtime is most definitely over. But to be fair by this point he’s lost his mate and cubs, wrestled a Russian(!), been shot, stabbed, prepped for surgery, escaped from a sinking helicopter and just generally been really mucked about. So the fact that he’s a little less temperate in the area of self control might not be excusable but it is understandable. SHAKO – more sinned against than sinning!

SHAKO is smarter than the average bear though; he is able to enter a house so quietly that he is mistaken for a towel by a showering Texan. (“Holy Moses To BetseeEEAH!”). And the writers are smart enough to use him as a means to give the very English love of antiauthoritarianism a good airing. This gets down even to the level of criticising the cosmetics industry. Rooting through the Texan’s bathroom cabinet SHAKO is attracted to a lipstick which is as colourful as berries but does it taste as nice…”IT DID NOT!” See, you thought I was just being sarky warky but, no, there’s subtext all over this thing! See: obviously SHAKO is in blithe defiance of the U.S. Military Industrial Complex but he also metes out just desserts to a strict schoolmarm and a ward nurse who is a bit quick with her fists. As you can tell SHAKO had no truck for authority and a pioneering attitude to gender equality; women are as bad as men and both make fine snacks.

5. “The Polar Bear Who Brought The Cold War To Flashpoint!” Well, that’s all just super, I hear you snore, but there are different societies and it’s hardly fair to tar all societies with the same beary brush is it now? It’s okay because luckily the Artic turns out to be a pretty busy place what with Russians, Americans and even the French turning up. Mills and Wagner pay particular attention to replicating the authentic idioms of each - Russian:"You speak "BAD things to The KGB!", American:"Ya there, Ellie May, Honey? " and, my favourite, French:"Sacre Bleu! Zat is one big bear,eh, Mon Ami!".

The Americans are goal-orientated and tech-savvy but fail to accommodate the difficulties and nuances of the environment in which they are battling. Could Shako be the first Vietnam analogy involving a polar bear? Perhaps. Meanwhile The Russians are blinded by unthinking subservience to dogma and the need to best the Americans. Initially they don’t know why the polar bear is of note they only know that the Yanks want it so they capture it and take it aboard their Whaling ship cum KGB spy ship. This turns out quite badly. In fact, so disputed does the bemused bear become that a nuclear interaction is only narrowly avoided. Could Shako be the first Cuban Missile crisis analogy involving a polar bear? Perhaps.

6. “The Bear Took My GUN ARM. So This Is Personal, See?” Now while humanity can be painted in broad strokes as a bunch of callous buffoons certain individuals are singled out so we can have someone to root for or someone to boo in this polar pantomime of pant soiling terror. While the characterisation is blunt as a stump it is redeemed by its brash energy. You certainly know who everyone is and what everyone wants. Jake “Foulmouth” Falmouth, for example, wants to get that danged bear so he can get that capsule for his government masters. Well, that’s his initial stance but following Shako’s aggressive appropriation of his arm Falmouth vows a sweary vow to get that dingdanged bear and kind of lets the capsule take a back seat. This is pretty much the depth of character development you’ll find in SHAKO. Look, it’s about a killer polar bear so I’m not sure how much character development you were expecting there. Falmouth is the Bad Man, The Hunter who becomes consumed by The Hunt and then literally consumed by The Hunted. Basically he’s Robert Shaw in JAWS but without John Milius’ dialogue. So yeah, Falmouth is pretty great.

7. “WHITE MAN’S Methods Have Failed To Kill SHAKO – Now I’ll Do It The ESKIMO Way…” The most sympathetic human here is called Buck Dollar (I guess Burger MacFries was taken or something). Anyway Buck Dollar is a half Inuit/half American who clearly represents the intermingling of cultures and the tension between nature and civilisation. Almost immediately Buck has a chance to finish Shako off but refuses as he recognises the inherent spiritual purity of a beast which enjoys clawing people like scratch poles. Personally as much as I am expected to sympathise with Buck I wouldn’t want him to be making any decisions my life might depend on.  Later in the penultimate confrontation Buck faces Shako with a combination of traditional spear and war cry ("MANICHOK!"). While this is thematically faithful, alas, in practical terms this is a quite frankly terrible plan and results in both parties being badly wounded.

Naturally in the final confrontation atop a mound of refuse Shako is dispatched by the power of Buck’s faith in his own heritage and his rejection of the ways of civilisation. No, not really. Buck shoots Shako with a bazooka at point blank range. Which kind of confuses the message, I think. I also think that the capsule everyone has been concerned with not damaging must have been somewhat more robust than previously thought. I think maybe someone might have shot SHAKO with a bazooka somewhat sooner really. I think they pulled this ending out of their backside is what I think. Such are the perils of writing a weekly series that can be cancelled at short notice due to poor reader reaction.

8. “AT LAST!”

And so the cautionary tale of Shako ends with Man and Bear dead in the garbage of a civilisation which is implacably and unthinkingly encroaching into the wild. Through everything Shako was true to himself. Yes, a lot of people died horribly, some children were irreparably traumatised and The Cold War almost heated up with a nuclear fire but in the end “…SHAKO DIED WELL!” When I was a child I read SHAKO and it was EXCELLENT! When I became a man I read SHAKO again and it still ain’t half bad.