New comics day, and more fun from Starlog.
I haven’t talked about this week’s new comics day yet, but thought I should mention a thing or two before it becomes “last week’s new comics day.”
First, I finally held a copy of the Complete Dick Tracy Volume 1 in my hands, and boy, it sure is nice. It doesn’t have the sewn-in bookmark visible in the promo image I posted, but the reproduction of the strips are excellent, even including some color strips shot from original newspaper sections. This is very much the proto-version of the strip, with Dick Tracy only approaching his razor-sharp profile near the end of the volume, but it all looks beautiful and entertaining. So, yeah, as soon as I scrape some pennies together, I’ll hopefully buy a copy for myself.
Speaking of coin of the realm, and lack thereof, I’ve been shedding books from the read pile over the last couple of weeks. This week I dropped Mystery in Space (I like Starlin’s “The Weird” back-up, but the Captain Comet lead story isn’t doing it for me), last week I gave up on Trials of Shazam (I love the Marvel Family characters, but I haven’t warmed to this series) and Uncle Sam and the Freedom Fighters (forgot to pick it up, decided I didn’t miss it). On the chopping block: Green Lantern Corps (stuck it out for the issues drawn by Dave Gibbons, not sure I care enough the non-Guy Gardner characters to keep reading).
Back to stuff from this week I did read:
Pirate Tales – another of Boom! Studios’ anthology books, this time focusing on…well, guess. I do loves me the pirate comics, which we don’t see enough of, and the highlights of this collection are “Jerky” by Chris Ward, Keith Giffen, and Rafael Albuquerque (a short horrific bit about pirates adrift on a raft at sea) and “The Walk” by Joe Casey and Jean Dzialowski (with the nice gimmick of several full page images, each page functioning as a separate panel, giving us a panoramic view of the ship). It’s fun reading, and even when you come across the occasional piece of clichéd dialogue like “Avast ye scurvy dog,” well, you’re willing to forgive it. If no one said “Avast ye scurvy dog” at any point during the proceedings, I’d have been disappointed.
Tales Designed to Thrizzle #3 – the new issue of Michael Kupperman’s humor book from Fantagraphics is…well, beyond description, really. If you liked what you saw in the first two issues (and I did), there’s more in this third issue. Plus, there’s a history of porno coloring books. Look, don’t ask me to explain.
And now, for no good reason, two letters from Starlog #29 (December 1979)…this first one is either an extremely sarcastic critique, or the writer just took his bathroom breaks at the wrong times:
“…Frankly, I was confused by the movie Alien. Perhaps you could help me. I saw quite a lot in the picture. There were all those flashing lights and those billowing colors of smoke. I was particularly amused by the actors, portraying present-day, foul-mouthed, drunken chain-smokers somehow transported into the future, still wearing their Hawaiian shirts, ball caps, and briefs. I thought that old carnival trick ‘man with head through hole in floor talking’ was a real pip. However, it’s the title of the show that puzzles me. Was there supposed to be an alien in there someplace? I looked and looked, but never saw one. A friend told me that was the whole idea – it was supposed to be hiding. The only out-of-this-world creature I noticed was Sigourney Weaver – great body, rotten actress.”
And now, a letter from Grandpa:
“…If you and your sister magazine FUTURE LIFE continue to publish articles lauding today’s disco and punk rock, I shall be forced to stop buying your otherwise excellent publications. These are not rock fanzines you are putting together. Leave this to the cretinous rock pulps that dominate today’s newsstands. STARLOG and FUTURE LIFE are far too intelligent to cater to the simple-minded dolts who listen to this production-line music. Rock is boring, repetitous. Once you’ve heard one song, you’ve heard them all. If rock is the music of the future, give me the triassic era any day. I’d rather tangle with a raging Tyrannosurus [sic] Rex than the deafening blare of noisy discotheques.”
