Friday, April 3, 2009


Back in 1973, way before the days of decompressed storytelling and trade editions, A COLOSSAL AMOUNT OF SHIT HAPPENED IN EACH AND EVERY ISSUE OF A COMIC BOOK. Especially a Marvel book. Every friggin' time you spent twenty cents (or your Grandfather did for you) you'd get 20 jillion dollars worth of entertainment, ever-y time. This is why comics were so very much cooler than TV or movies. A TV show might make you laugh for 23 minutes, maybe, if it's early, funny MASH or "The 2000 Year-Old Man" special or "When Things Were Rotten". A movie might creep you out for an hour or two if it's "Willard". But a Marvel comic would arrest and demand all of your senses and emotions simultaneously and then take them all for a psychedelic flume ride and leave you in a puddle of cerebral-solar-plexial-goo. Combine that with a sugary cereal and Timothy Leary can have his experiments, I'm just fine here on the floor, thank you.

I am sure I read FF 132 at least twenty times the week I got it when I was 9. It was so intense, in fact way too intense, for a little boy, which is all the more reason to dive in. It has people on fire and a giant and huge fights and a whole lot of preaching about equality and beautiful art and it's full of incredibly messed-up people, even the heroes, who are depressed, enraged, sarcastic, fearful, brave and insane. My family was like this! I could relate. It was like the comic was feeling my unexpressed and unarticulated feelings for me. Every character was so friggin' PASSIONATE about, well, whatever they were passionate about.

And don't even get me started on Medusa. A gorgeous redhead in a purple bathing suit? Um, yes, please, and keep them coming. I feel warm and funny and I LIKEY.

The Human Torch gets a new costume in this one, and I was as happy as he looks in that panel. Damn that's a cool variant. It only lasted 'til FF 159 but they should bring it back.

I need a moment before Part 2 because it's making me all sad and knotted-up to even have to go there again....

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