Whilst you probably couldn't care less about the process of keeping this blog going day after day after day after DAY AFTER DAY AFTER DAY AND GOOD LORD WHEN WILL IT END?
Sorry, I went on a little tangent there.
Anyway, my point is that sometimes you just know there's going to be great fodder for the blog in something, and it just lets you down. I give you:
Other than the unfortunate 1960's slang and the fact that Mike Nesmith speaks in photos on the front cover, the inside was dreadful. It wasn't funny, even in a bad way. And it's not like I'm a hard sell, because I actually sat through Head.
So, I threw the comic over my shoulder in disgust (after sticking it in a polymer bag with a backing board, natch... I mean, it was still a comic book), I went to the fertile ground of The Six Million Dollar Man:
No, not that Six Million Dollar Man, although I would pay top dollar for a Richard "Groove" Holmes comic book (and thanks to LP Cover Lover for the scan). No, my lovelies, I mean this one:
The covers to this series were actually pretty bitchin', drawn by industry regulars like Joe Staton and, as seen here, the always-awesome Neal Adams. But then things take an unfortunate turn:
And by "unfortunate," I mean "awesome!"
Check out this sequence:
The dialog, punctuated by the way the victim just says "ow" when he's on the receiving end of a fatal gunshot, rocks my world.
A hallucination of a huge dog? How is that we haven't seen this series re-released in hardcover? I'm pretty sure I'd buy two copies if they did.
I don't know if I was distracted by the awesomeness of the giant dog, if I'm just getting old, or if it was that forgettable, but I just read the comic and I can't tell you why the bad guy wanted a voodoo doll of Steve Austin. I do recall that he spent eight million dollars on it, which seemed like poor money management. It seems like he could have just spent six and a half million, bought Steve Austin from the government, and still had 1.5 million left over. It never hurts to be thrifty, kids!
Thanks for saving my life. May I reward you with sexual favors? Ah, the seventies.
And here's a word from our sponsor:
Because of the story that preceded it, it seems like there is at least the implication that you are buying a doll that would force the real Steve Austin to do your bidding, but I'm not at all sure that was the case.
See you tomorrow!