Judge Parker

A little while ago, one of my comic strip websites added a new vintage strip. Judge Parker. I saw the addition and sighed heavily. My brain has a strict rule that I have to add and follow all the vintage strips that they add. And I had no interest in Judge Parker. I was hoping for something more along the lines of Flash Gordon, Buzz Sawyer, the Phantom, and Mandrake the Magician. All vintage strips I follow voraciously!

But Judge Parker? What can a drama strip like that possibly hold to entertain me?

It DOES bring up an interesting point about genre's and their mediums. In television today, you get to choose between comedy, crime, drama, horror, science fiction, documentary, and (shudder) reality TV. There's even a few western's, I think. And Zombie's.... quickly becoming it's own genre.

In comics of the 1940's and 1950's, the same was true. The different genres of entertainment you can enjoy spanned the full range. Even religious comics and romance comics. Until, decade after decade, almost every other genre was squeezed out in favor of super heroes. By far the reigning subject material of comics. Some genres are making comebacks, but the audiences for comics are so few at this point that it's a struggling industry. Unless you have a seventy-five year old red 'S' on your chest.

The same is true for the comic strips. Decade after decade a wide range of genre's were offered in the newspaper comic pages. But after awhile only the humor strips seemed to have any staying power. Age-old action and drama strips are still hanging around purely because they are 'age-old'. And the few new strips featuring action and science fiction have a decidedly humorous bent.

Judge Parker falls into the drama range. When I was younger, the drama strips made no sense to me. They seemed to move so slow for such a boring story line. But as an adult reading upwards of 25 daily strips, the allure is understood. I follow the story lines so well. In Buzz Sawyer for instance, it feels like I hang on every strip and end up rooting for Buzz for those few moments every day. It's hard to believe I've been reading the strip daily for over five years.

So I buckled up, obeyed my brain, and added Judge Parker to my daily page. What did I find? No explosions or immediate revelations.

This is a character called Sam Driver. He's a lawyer.


As you can see, he's your classic hero type. Cut chin, broad shoulders, widely accepted American leading male haircut, good job.... he's the hero.

...and here are the hippies he's being hired to help.


The strip has started out in August of 1969. Right in the middle of what appears to be a storyline comparing the classic American heroic archetype with the hippie youth culture of the sixties.


Okay... there just might be something for me here after all.

Thanks,
DCD

The Black Widow and Anti Heroes

Those of you who aren't familiar with the Marvel Comics character the Black Widow from her appearances in the comic books might remember her from last summer's major blockbuster film the Avengers. Black Widow first appeared in 1964 as an Iron Man villain. Soon after she hung around the Avengers for awhile, dated Daredevil during his San Francisco phase, and officially joined the Avengers in issue #111, 1973.


BUT.... before all that, there was another character from Marvel named the Black Widow.

First appearing in Mystic Comics #4, 1940, the character was short lived. I knew of the character, but only that she existed. I had never read any of her stories or knew how she differed from the Black Widow I'm more familiar with. Until yesterday, when I read Mystic Comics #7 from December of 1941.


Holy Moley!!

This Black Widow is the spawn of Satan! And she doesn't fight for good and justice so much as that SATAN GETS IMPATIENT FOR THE SOULS OF EVIL MEN AND SENDS HER TO SNATCH THEM UP EARLY!


She's listed on the Grand Comic Database as an 'anti-hero'. Which is hilarious in it's understatement.


I've read much on the history of comics and their creators. But I still feel like I'm finding new things every time I read one of these things from the 1940's. Marvel's Sub-Mariner is largely regarded as one of the first comic book anti-heroes, if not THE first. And Marvel's publisher Martin Goodman is widely known as a guy that jumped on a hot thing and copied the heck out of it. So why would I be surprised in the slightest to find another Marvel anti-hero?


I think what catches me off guard is the depths of 'anti' that this hero achieves.

Satan sends the Black Widow, alias Claire Voyant (see what they did there?), to Earth in order to claim the souls of two evil-doers. The evil-doers in question were practicing the blackest of black deeds, selling munitions to the Axis powers in late 1941 just to increase their own fortunes. Makes you wish that a character like the Black Widow was around today to help major companies remember their morals.


There's something sophisticated in it's simplicity going on here. Satan and God and religious stories are not fiercely taboo in comics yet. And the creators thought nothing of employing them in their stories. Satan's bad, God's good, let's write a story. The kids will understand. And they were right! I'm sure there's not a 1941 kid who read this story that felt "Hey! Satan's a swell guy!"

But later America ended up censoring the comics for fear of juvenile delinquency, and the comics went decades with watered down kid stuff.

Which makes a story like this all that more interesting to me.

Thanks,
DCD

Clifton Horror Movie Nights

I’ve told you several times already about Matt Rusnak and his role in pulling a painfully nerdy Chuck out of the deep recesses of isolationism in the high school filled decade of the 1980’s. We’ve talked about music. We have yet to talk about the ideas of forming a tightly-knit group of friends, teenage male bonding, and the sense of belonging to a group larger than yourself. Those are topics I’d like to hit someday, as they are important aspects to anyone’s adolescent development. But today… I wanna talk about the horror movies of Clifton.

Today, I consider myself a legitimate fan of horror movies. But back then when I met Matt, not so much. They still gave me the heebie-jeebies back then. I remember clearly being nervous sitting in the theater next to my first real girlfriend to watch the Prince of Darkness. And I remember my friend and co-worker on the Burke Lake Maintenance crew telling me about this amazing new movie he saw called "Aliens" and how I really had to check it out. I did. My first R rated movie and horror movie that I ever saw alone. Snuck out without my Mom knowing what I was going to see. Movie scared the CRAP out of me.





I loved it.

One of the things that Matt did best was create an idyllic atmosphere for hanging out. His house was deep in the remote, woods-infested backwater of Clifton, VA. His house was old, maybe even turn of the century old. His parents were around, but not intrusive. His kitchen was warm and his TV room was perfect. Small TV, VCR, and comfortable chairs.

For my senior year of High School, this was my home for Friday nights. Matt's twin brother Ben made homemade pizza and extolled the virtues of his home darkroom and his photography passion. Matt had always gone to Errol's video before my arrival and almost always had a horror movie all picked out and ready to go. Good friends. Good eats. Great environment. The perfect 'safe' setting for male camaraderie at an age when usually the socialization was all about getting your hands on beer or drugs. We had no interest in that. We just wanted to watch a good movie, laugh our butts off, hopefully see some horror-movie boobs, and be together for a few hours. These memories of Clifton and those relationships will always hold up in my memory as the golden ideal.


Of course... there wasn't a girl in sight. And we ALL would've chucked it at the first hint of an actual girlfriend.

The problem with watching horror movies in Clifton on Friday nights, the main problem with being in Clifton at night at all, was the drive home. It was dark, with no street lights, and it was a long ways away from my home in Fairfax, VA.


I remember saying good night to Matt and Ben with smiles and laughter and turning around and letting the smile drop from my face like a ton of bricks when I realized I had to walk out to the car alone. Having just watched some gut wrenching, stress inducing, jump-fest of a horror movie. SURELY there would be some killer waiting for me in the back of my 1977 Vista Cruiser Station Wagon.


The worst of these nights was when Matt told me the Goat Man story for the first time. To my memory, he delivered it perfectly. I had never heard the story before and I'm not about to tell it to you now. I'll need a camp fire and a flashlight hovering under my jaw.

Matt topped off the legend of the Goat Man by telling me that the whole thing happened in Clifton, "some years ago". And that they had never found the killer. So I may have been grinny or I may have been gullible, I don't remember. But I do remember letting my mind race away from me and being TERRIFIED of the Goat Man on that long drive home from Clifton.


You know what's worse than driving home from dark-and-woodsy Clifton, VA late on a Friday night after an evening of entertaining horror? I'll tell you... it's sitting in your driveway back at home afraid to open the door of your nigh-impregnable Vista Cruiser Station Wagon. Absolutely sure that once you DO open that door, either the Goat Man will take you from above and rip you to pieces... or Matt and Ben will jump out from behind a nearby tree to scare you and laugh their butts off on what a frightened mess you are.

I have lots of regrets. I'm sure we all do. If I could, I would go back and re-live my entire college experience just so I could have the chance to actually get it right. BUT... but... those Clifton nights? With Matt and Bill and Jamie and Mike and Eric and Ricky and Mario.... those were perfect. I would go back and re-live those in a second. But not because I want to get it right. Because it was just perfect the first time around.

Thanks,
DCD

Soundtracks and Socialization

A while back, I detailed my awkward experience with a co-worker who was trying to make small talk about what I was reading at the moment. I played it like a silly little story… “I grinned and went back to my reading”… that kind of thing. But it’s a little deeper than that. More isolationist.

I think… and this is me guessing but it sounds right, I think that I just want to be left alone to whatever I was doing before the interruption. So I use the oddness of my hobby to drive people away. And that way I can get back to the task at hand.

Isn’t that crappy?

I’ll lay down a statement like “I’m reading about Bill Everett, influential comic book creator during the Golden Age of comics”, and then offer no more information. In my head, I’m being polite. I don’t want to bog the person down by rambling on about needless information. I save that for the readers of my blog. But this idea of throwing out an odd fact and then offering no other information is also kind of like putting up a wall. “You can’t play in my playground, so walk away and let me get back to reading.”

Crappy.

Case in point…

I’ve started to take the kids to a church Youth Group on Wednesday night. It gets them some much needed social time, away from their chores for a few hours, and gives them good influences that they just don’t get at school.

The second time I tried this out, I decided to stay at the church for two hours to work on some writing, budgeting, reading, and other similar type stuff in the quiet sitting area. Rather than trying to drive back home just to turn around in an hour and come back to get them. In order to avoid eavesdropping on conversations around me, I pulled out my iPod and plugged in.

After awhile, my back started to hurt in the chair I had chosen and it was time to move seats. I got my stuff together, moved across the room to an uncomfortable looking couch, and set up there.

A young guy, obviously affiliated with the church and studying something very closely, nodded and smiled at me. “Hey.” He said. “What are you listening to?”

I looked down at my iPod. “Oh this? This is the soundtrack to the Planet of the Apes.”

He frowned at me.

“From the 1968 movie. Not the 2001 one. But I have that one on here too. That's Danny Elfman.” I went on.

He frowned.

“That’s… “ he laughed in a friendly way. “That’s very unique.”

“I’m hipster.” I exclaimed with confidence.

Polite laugh. slowly fading smile. He went back to his reading. I went back to mine.

See? See what I mean?

Thanks,
DCD

Podcasts, Community, Hobbies, and Bliss

Some time ago, my pal Steve Lietuvnikas pressed me into trying out a podcast called Comic Dorks. It was a new podcast just starting up and included some webcomic creators that were familiar to me. But the real way Steve hooked me into trying it out was by telling me they were discussing digital comics and the business end of such things. This was of great interest to me. Great enough to get me to try something new.

I had been aware of podcasts, but largely ignored them. Every inch of my life is filled with activity and I'm hesitant to add anything new to the very limited time I have for myself. But I had a long distance trip coming up with my thirteen year old, Ashton, and having something other than a 1940's radio show on my iPod seemed to make some sense.

Podcasts, if you're not familiar, are essentially internet radio shows. You load them up on your iPod and listen to them when you're good and ready, instead of having to be beholden to the air time of the radio show. There are some podcasts that are just straight radio programs that have been turned into internet form, and some podcasts that are produced specifically for internet download. Such as Comic Dorks, which is four guys sitting around microphones chatting about comics.

Which is close to perfect.

The brilliant thing here is that podcasters don't have to struggle to find an audience within a specific broadcast range. So the topics can be as limited as the taste. This greatly appeals to me! I found one podcast, the Thrilling Adventures of Superman, that focuses specifically on Superman in the 1930's and 1940's. Try selling that to a traditional radio station. But with the power of the internets this guy in his basement chatting about his favorite version of the Man of Steel has no problem finding an audience at all.

I had been only trying out comic book podcasts, afraid to venture into a larger world of topics. But a friend from work, Megan Stickel, got me to try something new. RadioLab, from NPR. This show is brilliant. Sometimes scientific, sometimes emotional, always well thought out. RadioLab takes topics that I did not think would interest me and presents them in such a way as that I find myself thoroughly engrossed. One episode, called 'Fact of the Matter', deals in the nature of truth. That particular episode blew my mind. Another episode, 'What's Up, Doc?', tells a few stories about the man who voiced Bugs Bunny, Mel Blanc. That episode had me tearing up. The last episode I listened to was simply called 'Bliss'. It presented several stories that seemed to have no direct association, but they were able to tie together the ideas with the simple thread of "bliss". It had me thinking about what bliss meant to me all day.

I enjoyed RadioLab so much that I loaded it up on the kids iPod touches for their gym workouts. Ashton's pretty into it. My eleven year old daughter Katie doesn't quite know what to think of it yet. But she did enjoy the 'What's Up, Doc?' episode.

As good as Comic Dorks is, it's not my favorite podcast. The topics are very current, for modern day comic readers. So... not really fully my thing. I need something more tailored to my specific interests. Would the internet know of such a show?

As luck would have it, it's been under my nose for quite awhile.

The operator of the Aquaman Shrine, Rob Kelly, has joined with the operator of the Firestorm Fan blog, who calls himself the Irredeemable Shagg. When they bump their fists together and call out their magic words, they produce what is known as the Fire and Water Podcast; the Official Podcast of the Aquaman Shrine and Firestorm Fan.

My love of the Aquaman character is well documented. And I visit the Aquaman Shrine daily. That's an easy sell. I was always a little partial to Firestorm in the 1980's, but never read him consistently. But coincidentally enough, I just finished a massive read through of all of Firestorm's appearances in the 1970's and the 1980's. Making the Fire and Water podcast my absolute favorite listening material at the moment. Outside of Jack Benny, that is.

Shagg and Robb also sprinkle in episodes that focuses on DC's 1980's maxi-series Who's Who: the Definitive Directory to the DC Universe. These two fellow geeks go through every page of every issue and talk about every character entry in this art-and-biography style of DC characters. Can you think of anything more glorious than that?

I was at the gym the other day, having a tough time on the machines because of a stomach bug that just will not go away. I was on my last machine, the stationary bike, using Rob and Shagg's show to get through the exercise a little smoother. They were discussing Who's Who number five, which showcases the characters of the DCU that start with the letter 'C'. Rob was telling us all about the cover. Why it's gorgeous, genius in places, and the subtle details of some of the character interactions. And mis-pronouncing "Cinnamon".


"Hanging off of Colossal Boy's bicep is Congo Bill." Rob explained. "But this is something I never understood. He seems real angry. I don't know why he's so upset."


I KNOW! I KNOW! I KNOW! I immediately stopped peddling and hopped up off the bike.

"I think I might know why." Shagg interrupts Rob, as is a common practice between the two.

I KNOW TOO! I KNOW THIS ONE! I'm walking back to the men's locker room and focused only on my iPod, completely ignoring the Zumba class full of hot girls as I walk by.

Shagg goes on to explain that Congo Bill has a shtick where he can change brains with Congorilla. And that's probably what's happened here. Congorilla sits placidly looking at Colossal Boy, why Congo Bill with the brain of the giant golden gorilla hangs from Colossal Boy's arm in animal rage.


I'm grinning. I'm grinning like crazy. I'm grinning so hard that my face hurts. It's the absolute perfect geek-moment for two men and their audience of one separated by time and distance and technology, yet sharing a geek-moment so hugely obscure that only a comparative handful of people on the planet would have caught that little detail.

I know what my bliss is.

Hopefully you have a hobby in your life that can engender such passion in you.


Thanks,
DCD

Uncle Sam in Comics

I've heard people mention that the Golden age of comics, the 1930's and 1940's, are comics at their most unpolished moment. Rough and prototypical, as the creators were still learning the 'rules' of the medium.

There's some truth to that. But it was also the Golden Age for a reason. In today's world, there are two major comic book companies vying for the meager dollars that comic sales bring in. With several independent comic companies nipping at their heals. In the 1940's, there were many many comic book publishers vying for a much larger pot of sales. There was a sea of material out there trying to squeeze a dime out of a kid. So you're going to have some really bad stuff and a few gems.

I found a gem the other day.


Uncle Sam was a character that I never really cared all that much about as far as the comic book super hero version. The character is so iconic in what it means for America and politics that I always felt that he didn't really belong in the four-color pages going toe-to-toe with bad guys. In the 1940's, Will Eisner and Quality Comics disagreed. And they published National Comics starring Uncle Sam and even gave the character his own comic, which was rare back then.


I just finished reading Uncle Sam Quarterly #2, the Winter 1941 issue, and I'm blown away by the quality of art and story on display here.


The Grand Comics Database credit the writing of most of this issue to comics genius and ground breaker Will Eisner. The Comics Database also credits Lou Fine with the art for the first story, but Dave Berg for the art in the other Uncle Sam stories.


The thing I'm finding with the better comic books of the 1940's, the thing that sets them part from later decades, is the way they treat the stories. The content in the stories is often ripped from the latest headlines, not stopping to explain things to naive kids but instead treating them as peers. World politics, national concerns, labor disputes, capital punishment, all these issues are tackled head-on by the hero of whatever story you're reading. Uncle Sam starts out this issue by coming up with fantastic ideas for submarines that would benefit the Navy, and goes straight into Naval warfare with a surprise attack from the Nazis. At the time of the issues publication, America has yet to even join the war. This doesn't stop Uncle Sam from pounding Nazis, or helping the President straighten out labor disputes with beleaguered metal miners, or even stop to trip through a fanciful yarn about what happens to comic book publishers when the comic book villains decide to go on strike.

Using bright, colorful, crazy, intriguing artwork, this issue of Uncle Sam ropes the audience, which at the time had a guessed at average age of eight, into worldly concerns. And on top of that the issue tells it's audience in a very simple, straightforward manner just exactly what was the right thing to do. And no one questions Uncle Sam's judgement... because he's Uncle Sam! Right?

Except they do! In the first issue of Uncle Sam Quarterly the titular character starts to wither and fade away because more and more people are listening to German Bundists and not believing in Democracy. Uncle Sam's kid sidekick Buddy helps sway the popular opinion and win the day with a fully re-powered Uncle Sam.

These are comics for kids. But not dealing with kid issues. Dealing with adult issues cloaked in kids heroes and fantastic situations. These seem like the best kind of comics. And a type of medium that has never been equaled since. Comics of the 1950's were watered down so as not to cause trouble or get attention for promoting juvenile delinquency. Comics of the 1960's were classically crafted struggles between heroes and villains that reflected the human condition, but didn't have a foot in the real world like they did in the 1940's. The medium has gotten far away from what it's roots really were.


And today's comics take six months to tell a story at the very least, are unsuitable for eight year olds, and do nothing to involve their readers in the real world. They truly are escapist fantasy.

So which is rough and prototypical? And which is better for us as a society?

Thanks,
DCD

Reading on my Lunch Break

I've read a lot of books on the history of comics in America. A lot. In fact, whenever I get a new book on the history of comics, I'm slightly curious as to whether I'll learn anything new.

Recently, as part of my efforts to 'trim the fat' of the collection, I decided to donate the books I have on the history of comics to the local library. It seemed like a good idea to help along anyone that might have similar interests. I collected the books together and was slightly surprised to find out I had twenty. Twenty books on the history of comics. I was rather comical struggling down the street and up the library steps with that stack. The Martinsburg Public Library has zero parking.

I have a rule that on my lunch breaks at work, I'll read 'for realsies' books. Books with more words than pictures. That's how I ended up reading the Steve Jobs biography last summer. And the Edgar Rice Burroughs stuff and H. Rider Haggard and some dalliances with H.P. Lovecraft and the Tina Fey biography Bossypants. All read during my lunch breaks at work.

The other day, I was reading at work with my feet up in my guest chair and content to be in a different head space for a few minutes. A co-worker that I don't really talk to all that much walked by my cube and stopped.

"Reading, huh." He asked me. "Reading comics?" My cube is covered in toys and trappings of the typical comic book enthusiast. So my hobby is no secret.

"No no... " I answered. "Real book this time."

"Oh yeah?" He strained at interest. "Whatchya reading this time?"

"It's a biography of Bill Everett. A comic book creator from the Golden Age of comics."

"... "

"He created the Sub-Mariner for Marvel comics." I felt the need to press on. "Interesting dude. Lived most of his life as an alcoholic and died of a heart attack."

"...." my co-worker wasn't exactly sure how to take this conversation to a satisfying exit. "You uh..." he waived a finger over my cube "You really get into this stuff. I mean... like... DEEP into this stuff."

"Yeah." I grinned. I have a private rule about not giving people too much information when they didn't ask for it. "I suppose I do."

He paused for a minute. Shifted from one leg to the other, and said: "I like music."

"Yeah?" I nodded. "Music's good."

"Yeah. I like it." He nodded back. "I guess we all have our own things."

"Yeah." I kept nodding.

"Well enjoy your book."

He walked off.

I smiled and went back to reading. I even learned a few things I didn't know before! About Bill Everett and the Sub-Mariner. Not about music or human interaction.

Thanks,
DCD