« Aww, I bet he wasn’t so tough! Look how skinny he was! »
Egyptian-born (but of Greek descent) Basil Gogos (March 12, 1929 – September 13, 2017), may be most celebrated for his prodigious run of Famous Monsters of Filmland cover paintings. Ah, but that’s hardly all he’s done, and done well: advertising, paperback covers, film posters*, men’s adventure illustration…
His forays into the world of Uncle Creepy and Cousin Eerie were quite rare, so let’s savour them. This is Eerie no. 30 (November, 1970), depicting a scene from Don Glut and Jack Sparling‘s “The Return of Amen-Tut!”. Read it here.
…and here’s a look at Gogos’ original painting.
Thanks for all the colourful nightmares, Mr. Gogos!
*his Alain Delon looked more like Bob Guccione Sr., which frankly is no compliment. And is that supposed to be Ornella Muti? No cigar, Mr. Gogos. Still, the film (misleadingly) depicted here, « La mort d’un pourri » (1977), is a superior political thriller that anticipates several of the less savoury aspects of globalization. This is the original art from the Spanish poster… « Muerte de un corrupto ».
And here are Mr. Guccione, bon vivant and founder of Penthouse Magazine, and Ms. Muti, the quintessential Italian starlet of the 1970s, as she appears in the film.
John Pound, best known for his psyche-scarring work on the Garbage Pail Kids (not a bad entry in one’s résumé, unless you’re applying for a position in accounting), dabbled in underground comix in the 1970s. This useful primer in DIY makeup, inspired by the work of such classic monster makers as Dick Smith, Verne Langdon and Alan Ormsby, has the drawbacks of being a tad time-consuming and rather irreversible, but these are mere quibbles.
Originally published in The Gory Story Quarterly no. 2 1/2 (1972), edited by Ken Krueger, and reprinted in the much-easier-to-find-and-afford Ground Pound collection (1987, Blackthorne).
For further edification (and more genteel makeovers), this, in essence, is what was being lampooned. The Famous Monsters of Filmland Do-It-Yourself Monster Make-Up Handbook was a 1965 one-shot that’s nowadays rarer than Lady Effingham’s Eggs, presumably because all purchased copies were loved to bits. Let’s not forget to point out that this publication, like FMOF proper, was designed and hand-lettered by the incredible Harry Chester (who also designed Mad Magazine).
Today’s linguistic lesson: what’s a snarf? I’ll let Kurt Vonnegut answer that one:
« Do you know what a twerp is? When I was in Shortridge High School in Indianapolis 65 years ago, a twerp was a guy who stuck a set of false teeth up his butt and bit the buttons off the back seats of taxicabs. (And a snarf was a guy who sniffed the seats of girls’ bicycles.) »
Here’s a typical illustration of a snarf, albeit a shockingly rich one, with a fittingly well-developed proboscis, in his not-so-natural habitat: golden-hour hues, a cozy armchair, and selection of vintage selles de vélo. Next time you see a bicycle with its seat stolen (let’s face it, these saddles *must* be acquired in illicit fashion), you’ll thank me for this mental image.
This is Snarf no. 11, 1989. Dennis Kitchen gave his comic book series an apt title!
The cover by Rand Holmes (1942-2002), a Canadian underground comix artist probably best known for his Harold Hedd comic strip. (Look for the compendium of his exploits published by Last Gasp, Anus Clenching Adventures With Harold Hedd!)
« Do not come to Transylvania unless you are prepared for the gravest of terror! »
Always one of DC’s underdog mystery titles, Weird Mystery Tales was actually more consistent than its sister titles. Its relative lack of success was perhaps due to its original host, Destiny, being a bit of a flat tire. He was replaced with Eve (you know, Cain, Abel…) with this issue.
Still, the entire run is worth seeking out, thanks to contributions from Jack Kirby (okay, leftovers, but delicious leftovers from the unpublished second issue of his Spirit World magazine), Sheldon Mayer, Robert Kanigher, Steve Skeates, Alfredo Alcala (his and E. Nelson Bridwell’s adaptation of John Russell’s The Price of the Head is my pick for the title’s finest moment; it appears in this issue), Frank Robbins, Ruben Nunag Yandoc, Michael Wm. Kaluta… hey, it’s an anthology: you *know* the list goes on and on.
This is Weird Mystery Tales no. 14 (October-November, 1974). Cover by Luis Dominguez. Mute terror… isn’t it more effective?
« There’s lots of heads that would be improved by removing the brains and stuffing them with punkin! »
Here’s one from early in the funnybook game. Eastern Color’s anthology title Famous Funnies (July, 1934 – July, 1955, 218 issues), is generally held to be the first true American comic book. This is October, 1939’s issue 63, with a cover by Victor E. Pazmiño (1899-1970), who often initialed his work VEP (not to be confused with Virgil Partch’s VIP). Our featured protagonists are Sam Smithers and his tormentor, Pigtails.
Should you have a little time on your hands, you can read this issue, and many others in the series, right here, through the auspices of the fine folks at comicbookplus.com.
Beware of the man who only dreams logical dreams! That says a lot about Luthor’s personality, actually.
This legendary encounter between Mr. Mind and Luthor comes to us from “Captain Marvel Meets… Lex Luthor?!”, written by Dennis O’Neil, pencilled by Bob Oksner and inked by Tex Blaisdell. It’s part of a 100-page issue (Shazam! no. 15, November-December 1974), which I think was my first exposure to The Big Red Cheese… and I was instantly hooked, even though I’m not generally fond of cross-overs (or, generally speaking, super-heroes). These issues may not cost 60 cents anymore, but they’re still totally worth tracking down!
Mr. Mind is usually considered to be a worm, but frankly, he looks more like a caterpillar (which is more dignified, anyway). In his quest for world dominion, he hatched many a plan to topple world order, some of which I will enumerate for readers’ enjoyment so you can admire the impressive span of Mr. Mind’s machinations:
To crush North America beneath a giant glacier using a giant gyroscope that makes the Earth shift on its axis.
To make Captain Marvel his mental slave using Billy Batson.
To topple all the buildings in Captain Marvel’s home city by controlling an army of worms and termites.
To trap the United States in eternal darkness by stopping the Earth’s rotation.
To use the ten-mile-long gun “Great Big Bertha” to literally blow holes in America and Russia.
To invade Scotland from an artificial floating island of ice.
To cause a giant volcano to erupt in the middle of Britain.
So if you encounter an angry-looking (but myopic) caterpillar on your travels, please mind what you say.
« Ach ja! That field once produced the best wine in the world, for it is said it was fertilized with human blood! »
(Does that only apply to red wine?)
As far as 80s reprint packages go, this was something special by any measure: first of all, though the spooky tales within were produced in the pre-code 1950s, they had never gone to press. The material was intended for the 15th issue of Pines/Standard/Better/Visual Editions’ Adventures Into Darkness, which was never published, presumably in the wake of the heavy-handed censorship of the newly-instituted Comics Code Authority. Why bother revising and releasing a book that likely wouldn’t even get distributed?
Second, the originals were adapted for the 3D process. The effect was quite the rage in 1953-54, but these particular 3D separations were created retroactively, in the 80s, by modern stereoscopy master and keeper of the flame Ray Zone (1947–2012) and Tony Alderson.
And finally, there’s that eyeball-caressing Dave Stevens (1955-2008) cover. The gone-too-soon creator of The Rocketeer also made his mark with a cherished handful of covers in those dark Reagan years, a mark that thankfully shows no sign of fading.
This is Seduction of the Innocent 3-D (Oct. 1985, Eclipse). Logo by Ken Steacy.
If you’re in the mood, a couple of 2D samples of the issue, perhaps? Try Harvest of Death or Death Dives Deep. Just tell dear Mr. Karswell we sent you!
Tuesdays sure roll around quickly, but that’s okay – another week, another fresh batch of prehensile, slimy tentacles for our enjoyment. I’ll open Tentacle Tuesday with an “oldie but goodie”. (Speaking of that, I have an irrational pet peeve: comic shop owners who, upon seeing a customer carefully clutching a stack of 70s comics he meticulously unearthed from a grimy comic box stashed in the darkest corner of the store, say, with a slightly condescending grin, “oh, you’ve found some oldies!” The comment is no doubt well-intentioned, but there are nicer ways to start the conversation.)
And a-one
First on the list for today is this painted beauty by Pat Boyette, from Haunted no. 19, December 1974. Just look at those shiny, healthy tentacles – just the kind to gently grab your ankle and drag you into murky waters. Their diaphanous keeper doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, either.
This issue is worth picking up for more than its cover. It remains excellent when one opens its pages: there are three stories, and they’re all worthwhile – the beautiful “The Unholy!” by Pete Morisi (PAM! PAII!) (written by his son, Steve Morisi, and therefore unfortunately not making a lick of sense), the moody “There Ain’t No Hell!” by Sanho Kim and Joe Gill, and, the cherry on the cake (and story on the cover), the quietly-elegant-but-with-tentacles “The Keeper”, illustrated by Boyette (and also written by Joe Gill).
“You bawled me out many a time for not feeding your pets, your lordship… this time, they’ll feast!”
And a-two
Just like octopuses (who eat small crabs and scallops, as well as snails, fish, turtles, crustaceans, and of course other octopuses), I like a little variety in my diet, so number 2 is humorous rather than scary. How did this octopus manage to figure out which of its tentacles to stick into shorts? Who’s the happy little slug with chickenpox holding up letter “A”? Why does an octopus have beaver teeth?
This is Ha Ha Comics no. 66 (Jun – Jul 1949), published by American Comics Group, or more technically Creston, an imprint of ACG. This seems to be a rather rare issue, unavailable on Comic Book Plus although they have pretty much every other issue of Ha Ha. Thanks to an Ebayer selling this comic, however, I can state with some degree of certainly that this issue features – as advertised – an all-star cast, featuring not only the habitués Izzy and Dizzy (a pair of trouble-prone mice), but also Anthony & Cleopatra, the Impulsive Imps, Robespierre, Hard-Hearted Hannah, Wigglin’ Willie the Worm and Shilly and Shally. Doesn’t it all sound like some sort of battle of the bands? As for the artist of the cover, it’s Dan Gordon, storyboard artist and film director mostly known for his work at Famous Studios and Hanna-Barbera Productions – he did quite a few “funny animals” titles for ACG.
And a-three!
T.T. number 3 is colourful. It also leads to the question “vegetable, mineral or animal?” These tentacles seem to be rather plant-like… if plants had eyeballs attached by blood vessels.
Judging by the adventures of Space Family Robinson, most planets are inhabited by aliens with tentacles. One would think that they’d be very well prepared for this eventuality (not to mention kind of bored by it), but no, the tentacles always take them by surprise.
Apart from tentacles, this has some of my other favourite things: a pterodactyl (or at least some creature approximating a pterodactyl), a vibrant sunset, and eyeballs.
This is the back cover of Space Family Robinson no. 9 (Gold Key/Western, August 1964), which is just like the front cover minus the text. Painted by George Wilson, who has a nice sense of colour. (Hurray for saturated colours in this sepia-and-grey or orange-and-teal world.)
In the beginning, oh, long before that. When light was deciding who should be in and who should be out of the spectrum, Yellow was in trouble. Even then it seems that green, you know how green can be, didn’t want yellow in. Some silly primal envy I suppose, but for whatever cause, the effect was bad on yellow. And caused yellow to weep yellow tears for several eternals, before there were years. Until blue heard what was up between green and yellow and took green aside for a serious talk, in which blue pointed out that if yellow and blue were to get together, not that they would, but if they did (a gentle threat), they could make their own green. “Ooh”, said green with some understanding. Naturally, by a sudden change of hue, green saw the light and yellow got in. Worked out fine, yellow got lemons and green got limes.*
« It looks like a rotting coffin… something that should have stayed buried! »
Here’s a relatively restrained cover from one of Eerie Pubs’ flagship series (34 issues, 1969-75). Despite, or because of, notorious sleazoid publisher Myron Fass’ typical bait-and-switch, cheapjack production and ethical values (in this case, all reprints with a flashy new cover), Eerie’s grit and grime must be experienced at least once, preferably through some of its truly unhinged Dick Ayers-illustrated originals, such as, say, « House of Monsters »… in fact, let’s not waste any time: read it here.
This is Witches’ Tales vol. 1 no. 8, in truth the title’s 2nd issue… Chez Eerie Pubs, they loved to keep everyone guessing! (Eerie Publications, Sept. 1969) Cover painting by Bill Alexander. Edited by Marvel-Timely golden-ager Carl Burgos.
Welcome to our daily rending of calendar leaves ’til All Hallows’ Eve 2017 is upon us, all flailing fangs and claws…
We open with a salute to our kindred evil spirits, the ticklish rogues who bring us The Simpsons. Their Halloween Special / Treehouse of Horror episodes, by now numbering thirty entries, have done much to keep the torch of seasonal eeriness ablaze over the years.
The comic book spinoff series is none too shabby, either: launched in 1995, it also appears once a year, when noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and mid-nights stay**. It shares its parent show’s penchant for references to comic books and magazines, toys and films and tv shows, some recent, some rather ancient, some known to all and some surprisingly (and wonderfully) obscure.
Who's Out There? 