Everything was Quiet... If You Could Ignore the Death Gurgle of a Thousand Nazis!

I learned something today.  The "Gettin' Enough" video I liked so much that I reposted it last week?  Turns out it was actually a spoof of 80's teen sex PSA's.  Silly me.  It just goes to show that when you do too good of a job spoofing something, you actually just end up recreating it.

Although that's good news because it means I can listen to the song without people thinking I'm a pervert.  Not that people don't think there's something wrong with me, I'm sure they do.  It just gives them one less thing upon which to hang their proverbial hat.

For example, I'm about to talk about the first "Sergeant Boyle" series, and it may appear that I don't think it's  the greatest comic ever.  And I totally do. 

Get that?  He's an American that joined the British Expeditionary Forces.  Now, you may wonder why, but remember that this comic was the January, 1940 issue.  So, it came out at least a year before the United States was engaging in any hostilities with the Axis, much less the formal declaration of war on December 8th, 1941.

See?  See?  You'll learn stuff here.  Not a lot that will help you get through life or anything, but you'll pick up a thing or two.

Sing it with me!

Dang straight.

Anyway, back to Sergeant Boyle.  Here he is shooting a Nazi with one hand while tossing two rifles at once as if they were spears:

Keep in mind there's no "Super Soldier Formula" or anything like that here.  This guy is just your average American.

.... if by "Average American," you mean "Average American Ass-Kicking Machine!"

Dodge a machine gun at point blank range?  No problem!

Okay, I'm not at all sure shooting another gun's bullets creates and explosion like that.

Eh, who cares?  There's no bad way to take out a Nazi!

Uh-oh... a coded message:

Didn't the Nazis have this whole Enigma machine thing going on?  If this is a product of its work, I'm not surprised the Allies were able to crack it.  By jove, old chaps!  I was flummoxed by this kibbles and bits until I read it while I was shaving!

Okay, that wasn't even close to a good imitation of a Brit.  My apologies to my friends across the pond.

What do you mean, Sgt. Boyle?  What about the...?

Oh.

OH!

I see what you're doing there.  You're being all modest like it's all in a day's work or something!  You sly fox!

Surprisingly, this feature would go on for thirty-nine issues of Pep Comics.  You'd think that so much badassery would be considered far too much for the comics-reading public to handle, but there you go.

Between Sergeant Boyle, the Shield and the Comet, Pep was a pretty violent title.  I'm kinda surprised Archie and Jughead get their introductions here.  Maybe Archie and Jughead were originally government assassins or something.  I'll let you know when I get there.

See you Monday!

In Which I Introduce the Word "Visor-Lifty" to the English Language

So, I'm continuing my look at the Comet story from Pep Comics #1, and I believe I owe someone an amends.  Upon further review, it appears that you can always see his eyes through the glass in his visor, making yesterdays closing jabs inappropriate.  I apologize to... well, whoever gives a rip, which is probably no one.

Anyway, I read the rest of the Comet story, and ... this guy is badass.

But first, you have to find him.  Fortunately, someone has his home phone number:

I had thought that this person was calling his civilian ID, but the Comet shows up in costume, so I'm not sure how that worked.  No one bothered to explain it.  I mean, if I call Childhood Pal Scotty and he shows up in his secret identity as SILVER MAN (so named because he came back from the Israeli Games with a chest full of silver medals in gymnastics... true story!), it wouldn't be hard for me to connect the dots.  Why this guy knows the Comet's identity, I have no idea.  But he clearly does.

And I couldn't help but notice that the Comet apparently just hangs out around the house in full super-hero gear.  I'm not judging anyone here.  I'm just making an observation.

This panel cracked me up:

Egad, that's a nervous guy.  I'm nervous just looking at him.  Wavy lines in multi-colors and all that... pretty agitating stuff there.

Here's kind of a reverse Fun with Out of Context Dialogue (tm!):

I tell you, this is the last time I eat at the Cheesecake Factory!

Yeah, it's a cheap shot, but so is Fun with Out of Context Dialogue! (tm!)

Speaking of which:

if so, can I have his shoes?  I seem to have disintegrated mine.

Now as I mentioned, the Comet is surprisingly badass.  Cooperate with him or don't, you're getting the stink-eye:

Way harsh.  He had disintegrated a crook's house a page or two earlier and I almost put that on, but it kind of paled in light of the subsequent murder spree the guy went on:

No!  No!  I've got this new invention I call "Purell!"

So think twice before you mess with the Comet.  All those stars and moons he's wearing?  That's the bait so he can go all "visor-lifty" on your ass...

That's right.  Visor-lifty.

See you tomorrow!

Injecting Foreign Materials Into Your Blood is a Great Idea Wednesday!

Yesterday's look at the Shield (who was actually "the Golden Age Shield" because there was another one put out by the same company years later) was so awesome, what choice do we have but to check out the Comet?

Wow.  Who came up with that mess of a costume?  He looks like he's wearing Lucky Charms cereal on his arms.  Moons, stars... and yet no comets?  Maybe the arrow is meant to represent him moving through space or something.   Maybe I just think it's a terrible costume.

Origin time!

WHAT?  I have suspended my disbelief for radioactive spiders, hammers from Olympus, aliens and rings that create fully functional objects out of something called "hard light," but I draw the line here.  

I mean, I'm no scientist, but come on!

Oh, wait.  It gets better:

Hydrogen is actually very flammable, so they actually could have scored some points if his eyes set things on fire.  The Hindenburg?  Hydrogen.  So at least they were close.

And check this out:

Kind of reminds you of a certain X-Man who would appear more than 20 years later, doesn't it?

But I have a question: If the shield is just blocking the ray, wouldn't the hydrogen molecules (that are very small) accumulate in the visor while he has it closed?  It seems like eventually you would effectively have a firebomb attached to your eyes.

Although if you just never closed the visor like you were supposed to, I suppose that wouldn't be an issue. Thusly:

So, is he just disintegrating things all over the place while he's flying around?  Hey!  Wasn't I just looking at a cow?  Where did that school bus go?  Why doesn't that helicopter have a propeller?  It did just a second ago... Aw, beans.  Did I leave my visor open again?

And don't even get me started on what would happen if you glanced down at your lap...

See you tomorrow!

In Which I Say "Pull My Finger" Three Times in One Post Tuesday!

Okay, so I'm taking a Flash break to check out Pep Comics #1, from 1940:

Yup, it's the original Shield, the Man with the Humongous Chest Insignia.  What is his origin?  Well, we're not going to waste any time drawing it, that's for dang sure!

Got all that?

Seriously, would your average child have read that?  When I was a lad, I never read the caption boxes.  Ever.

Anyway, Higgins is a government agent, so he gets orders from some FBI Chief muckety-muck:

Your first assignment is TO PULL MY FINGER!

Forgive me for asking, but I am a product of American public schools and I have no idea what "Stokian" is. Is or was that a thing?  Because Google is telling me nuthin'...

AND I SAID PULL MY FINGER!

WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE?  THE PUBLIC IS CLAMORING FOR ACTION... AND CLAMORING FOR YOU TO PULL MY FINGER!

I don't know that I would want to be known as "The Dreaded Shield."  I mean, does everyone dread him?  Why is that?  Is he a poor house guest?

Anyway, with an origin like that, I guess you can just have whatever super-powers that pop into your writer's head:

There's always a way in... for the Shield!  

You can tell he's got low self-opinion by the way he refers to himself in the third person.  Adam has been known to do that himself.

This is my favorite part: He takes down the spies, and then just stands there for what had to be a really long time:

I mean, I suppose if you're invulnerable, it's not a huge deal, but why make life harder than it needs to be?  And I have to point out, this is taking place in a hotel, so I presume some folks were blown to smithereens when the bomb went off.

Oh, well.  The Shield still gets his man, but not wishing to reveal his identity (kind of a weird priority for a man who refers to himself in the third person), he puts his business card into the hands of his foes.  You know, because the best way to keep your identity a secret is to leave physical evidence of your identity in the hands of others.

Not the best strategy for keeping things on the down-low, but he didn't ask for my advice! 

Hey, is that spy wearing fingernail polish?  It sure looks like fingernail polish.

See you tomorrow!

See That He Gets Killed Properly! Monday!

Happy Monday, my lovelies!  You know what I just finished reading?  This:

Cardboard by Doug TenNapel

Yeah, I know it's for a younger audience... probably your "tweeners," but it had great art, fast pacing, sharp dialogue... I don't care if it was for my tired old eyes or not.  I was entertained, and that makes it a winner.

Let's finish up All-Flash Quarterly #5.  I'm getting the impression that writer Gardner Fox decided that, what with the talking horses and all, we just can't take things too seriously, so he indulged himself in silliness a bit:

Now that's some old school villainy right there!

Here's a good two-panel joke that'll slip right past you if you aren't careful:

Then, because it is a Gardner Fox story, we once again get a little too detailed with the explanations: 

Wait. What?

Well, I can't argue with success, but I can't follow that now, much less when I was the target age for this thing.  I appreciate that Gardner had this confidence in the comprehension level of his readership, but I'm afraid I would be a terrible disappointment to him.

No, give me the cheap gags:

YEAH!  Buffoonery is a comedic style that just never grows old.  That's why Judd Apatow is a bajillionaire.

Remember, hepcats!  Too much jivin' isn't good!

And then we ruin everything with people speaking in unison:

You understand why I can't stand that, right?  I mean, have you ever said the same thing as four other people at the same time?  And here we even have laughing... in unison.  It's so awkward.  And frankly, this scene takes place months after the story ended, so how did all those people end up in the same place at the same time, much less spontaneously speaking in unison?  And is... is Jay winking at me??

MADNESS, I tells ya!

See you tomorrow!

In Which I Veer Into Waters Uncomfortable for Everyone Including Myself

A new feature that Google put on in my absence is the ability for me to check out the stats on my page.  It doesn't tell me anything personal, but it gives me an idea of whether or not folks have rediscovered the magic of our little comic book funhouse.  I was especially wondering since you folks are so dang quiet in the comments.

Well, lo and behold, traffic is dang near back to where we were in our heyday.  So, even though you are a crowd of few words, I appreciate the hundreds of eyeballs that have put me back into your rotation.  It's amazing, and very gratifying.  So a big "thank you" to everyone for coming back after my lengthy hiatus.

So how can I thank you?  By reading All-Flash Quarterly #5, so you don't have to!  And it's a surreal one, to be sure.  For example, it has talking horses:

And seriously, I know you kids don't believe this, but we comic book nerdlingers were tormented  back in the day for reading comics because folks thought they were for people to stupid to read "real" books.  I cannot imagine the grief that would have been heaped upon me by my cruel peers had the talking horses come to light.  I mean, Gardner Fox is awesome.  He gives us goofiness of Billy Haney-esque proportions, but this is just an invitation to a beating for your loyal readers.

A PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT FROM CMNS:  Know what the most dangerous room in the house is?  The bathroom?  The kitchen?  I would have thought so, but apparently not.  It's the darkroom.  It's a place where people used to develop photographs back in the time of the Spanish Revolution or something, and it appears it was very dangerous:

A DISCLAIMER FROM CMNS REGARDING THE PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: Hmmmmm...  I've got a good willing suspension of disbelief, but I Googled "has anyone ever died in a darkroom" and it goose-egged.  I presume there was going to be some kind of follow-through.  So, never mind.  You probably don't have a darkroom in your house anyway.  I guess this was the worst PSA ever.

No, wait... HERE'S the worst PSA ever:

Apparently, in the 1950's, the difference between being a homosexual and being a pedophile was a moot distinction.  "Dangerous as smallpox," it was!

Actually, before I was distracted by The Adventures of Lazy "Walkin' is for Chumps" Jimmy and His New Best Friend Creepy  Ralph , I was looking for this:

What do you think?  Eh?  Eh?

Hello?

Anyone there?

Okay, back to comics.  

The Flash is not fooled by your paltry attempts at Photoshopping, 1940's photographers!

and... AND 

That's right, Jay!  Any photographer knows that purple grass is a cool dusky... color.

Too much detail.  Egad, we've gone from talking horses to a photography seminar. 

Enough of that.  Remember yesterday when I talked about "electric baseball"?  Well....

They were actually pretty close in their artist's rendition!  Cool, huh?

This was developed by Jim Prentice, who filed a patent on Electric Baseball in 1927, when he was a mere 17 years old.  This particular version was produced from 1938 to 1941.  All-Flash Quarterly #4 came about in 1942, so the seed company probably bought out his leftovers for a song. 

To be fair, though, I doubt the profit margin on seeds really justifies giving out top tier merchandise as premiums to your sales force.  I'm just guessing, of course.  I've never been in the seed industry.  I probably shouldn't assume, but it seems reasonable. 

See?  I'm all about the infotainment here.

See you Monday!

This Blog Should Be on the Bookmarks of Every American Thursday!

Finishing up All-Flash Quarterly #4... where Jay forgets the inspiration for his costume:

Derp!  Maybe it's the winged helmet and winged boots on the super-fast guy that's got them confused.

Seriously, I went to Google images to find a picture of Mercury, and I couldn't find one where he wasn't wearing the same headgear.  

Jay's a scientist, you know.

This caught my eye.  It's interesting from a historical perspective, and also a little sad that kids couldn't really escape what was going on at the time:

Of course, we're in the middle of six wars right now, and I'll wager you'll not hear a whisper of any of them in any comic produced this year.  It's not funny, of course, but every once in a while something makes me ponder what a different America we live in than back when these comics were made.  I'm not saying either is better or worse - both have their strengths and shortcomings.  But it certainly is different.

For example, I don't know where I'm going to get my hands on a singing lariat these days:

This is another thing I tried to Google on The Google, and all I can find are references to it as a toy.  I presume there was a whistle or something that made a noise when you twirled it (or whatever it is they call it when you're whipping a lariat around), because you can't go wrong with making shrill noises where kids are concerned.  That, my friends, is universal.  I'm tempted to send in a coupon to these seed people and see if they make good on it.

I had more information on electric baseball games of 1942, but I couldn't find one that looked like this:

Since I wasn't able to find an exact duplicate, I can only presume that the claim "you'll never tire of playing" is an accurate one, because people have to be hoarding them.  If anyone recognizes this, let me know, because other electric baseball games from 1942 didn't look like this.

See you tomorrow!