Don't have a fight when you're really drunk, even if you are immortal

The Masters Of Evil vs. Hercules


Avengers #274


This issue deals with the nature of man, ego versus reality, "go on Dave, do him" type fighting and lascivious women bearing gifts of drugged booze.



Firstly, one big positive in this issue is that The Black Knight gets taken out in three punches by Mister Hyde. Now there may well be a huge underground fan base for the bloke with the magic sword who appeared to fly through the air on the back of Dr. Who's robot dog, K9, but dammit, don't care. He's in the same vein as Tigra and as such deserves to be working for McDonalds more than Earths Mightiest Heroes.



Enjoy:









Now we know the next person for Britney to marry - first KFED next KTUNG!


Now, light relief overwith, as the rest of the issue is pretty grim.



The Masters of Evil have broken into the Avengers mansion, tied up Jarvis the butler, walloped old Black Knight (hooray!) and then started plundering to their hearts content, while the enigmatic Baron Zemo plots the ultimate downfall for Cap and the chaps.


Big question though, is how to take out possibly the strongest bloke in the Marvel universe, next to the Hulk and Thor.


Answer: Get him hog-whimperingly drunk on drugged booze and them gang up on him in a manner not seen outside of the schoolyard.


Here's the chap in the blue corner, weighing 35 stone of Olympian beefcake and smelling like he slept the night in Oliver Reeds drinks cabinet, Hercules, with his cornerman, saying "leave him mate, he's not worth it", an incognito Captain America!







fantastic lettering in this issue showing just how bladdered the big fellow is....




anyway, the Wasp tries to explain to him whats happened and tells him to sit tight while they think of a plan. Startlingly, Herc thinks otherwise :












"Bloody women think they know everything"....


Trouble is chaps, they do.

If you have a fight when you are pissed and your opponent is not, or even worse, him and all his mates, then you are likely to end up in hospital.

Anyway, inside the Mansion are the following gentle creatures waiting for him:

Tiger Shark (who punches him clean through 20 FEET of reinforced concrete
Mr Hyde (who lamps him with what appears to be the BT tower)
The entire Wrecking crew (who go for the all in mayhem option)
and finally, Goliath, who does to Hercules what I suspect a few naughty children did to their Action Man toys. He grabs him by the ankle and wallops him as hard as he can against every flat surface available. And when he's flattened him, gets all his mates back to stomp him flat.



This page utterly petrified me when I first read it. Being jumped at school happens to a lot of kids, but you could imagine this happening at your own school, to you, if the wrong circumstances aligned themselves. Christ!

And this gets a heartfelt

"BUNCH OF ARSE MATE!"

to Goliath, Mr Hyde and the rest.

And the denouement?

Blackout (a cerebrally challenged mong from Eastern Europe) covers the mansion in what is called Dark Force preventing anyone assisting those inside but then something is expelled..



a totally inert Herc.


Don't mix drink with anything other than friends, and may you too have an old man like Zeus to bring the pain if anything like this happens to you.

Bloom County

Bloom County was an American comic strip, syndicated worldwide, written and drawn by the incomparable Berkeley Breathed, which was printed in an English newspaper called The Guardian during the late 1980's.

My consumer demographic is people who have discovered a) middle aged spread b) strange aches and pains, and c) Terry Wogan on the wireless, so I hope that you may be old enough to remember the following...

Bill the Cat:

Opus the penguin:

Milo the worlds most unprincipled journalist:

Cutter John, the true captain of the USS EnterPoop:

Binkley

and a dozen other characters to die for.

Please. Go here: http://www.berkeleybreathed.com/pages/index.asp

he wrote it, I just likes it.

The Greatest Comic Ever Made

I fell out of love with comics around 1990 and jumped headfirst into motorbikes, kung fu and disgustingly noisy Metal and, 13 years later, fatherhood.

One day, gripping the pram handle and harumphing whilst the Good Lady Wife faffed about in the shops of Bromley in south London, I noticed the comic shop I used to frequent as a callow youth. The original owner had gone but one of the assistants still remained - defiantly goth as ever, I noted happily. We chatted about this and that, he went "ooh" at my totally disinterested daughter, and that was that. "Ah," he then said "buy this graphic novel - you might like it".

I bought it.

It was called "The Ultimates".

And it is The Greatest Comic Ever Made (c)

As far as I have been able to determine since, Marvel (and DC and Image) lost a lot of sales in the late nineties. I believe the technical term is "shit loads". And it came to pass that Marvel decided to start all over again with their biggest 4 books, The X-Men, The Fantastic Four, Spider Man and The Avengers, only this time each title would be named ULTIMATE, and essentially allow the characters to start their adventures all over again, but, and this is the important bit, not be set in the 1960's but in the naughty noughties. Brian Michael Bendis and Mark Millar were responsible for writing the first titles (Spider man and X-men) and the titles were a palpable hit, encouraging the publishers to expand to the FF and the Avengers.

Enough history. The Ultimates is The Avengers picked up and booted forward 40 years.

Firstly:

1. The book's creative team (Mark Millar as writer, Bryan Hitch as artist and Paul Neary as inker) were British. This staggered me as I thought Blighty had frightened off the American comics market with Alan Moore's terrifying visage.


2. The characters core attributes would remain (i.e. Iron Man would not turn green)


3. Breathtaking, shattering images, it appeared, was no longer the preserve of the square box in the front room

Say hello then to the Best of the Best:

Now, before you say anything, I must concur that the title graphics do appear to have come from the dashboard of a 1980's Audi Quattro, but be strong and press on.

Everything I ever wanted a super hero comic to be, the Ultimates was.

No, in fact it was beyond what I could have dreamt a comic could be.

Issues 1-13, called The Ultimates 1, took a couple of years to publish due to various reasons but are now available in a rather smart hardback edition costing around £20.

If this book can make me visibly vibrate with excitement, it could do the same to you....

And the best bit of all?

Ultimates 2, approaching its denouement, is twice as good as Ultimates 1.

Its so good, I actually bought original artwork, framed it, and have it next to the portrait of my daughter.

Run, yes run, right now to your comic store, shake the owner awake and demand that you want the finest comics known to humanity, you want them here and you want them now!

(look, its paraphrasing a film called Withnail and I, this is a picture of it, it was a great idea in theory, nothing to see here, carry on as you were)

The Greatest Thor Ever Made

The holy Walt Simonson started on the Thor book on issue #337, and continued all the way through to issue #382, spanning many years.

This run of comics has garnered many fans of which I proudly declare myself one - OK, it's not akin to discovering radium but hey, its close.

Walt Simonson took an arrogant Nordic prince with questionable fashion sense and, at times, horrifically hackneyed dialogue and made him, well, if not alive then someone you could believe in.

And then he wrote, pencilled and inked Issue 380 - the re-enactment of a mythological tale, where Thor is destined to die in battle with Loki's son, the great worm Jormungand - the World Serpent.

Go on, have a read...

Its a dragon the length of the world with an sparkling wit and bottomless ego versus our hero, sporting a distinctive disco coloured armour.

Every page is a blockbuster - 1 frame, 2 figures and flesh-singing tension - how about this for "cause and effect":

There are 24 pages in this book, and every single one positively hums "classic" at you. Mr Simonson also wrote a simple poem in the style of a ballad to the Asgardian gods as the commentary.

It wasn't supposed to be Milton, just believable. And it was. I truly believed that Walt Simonson had found the original Norse verse and was just printing it word for word. My disbelief had been well and truly suspended, which is just as it should be.

And so, inexorably, the battle reached its climax. The titans destroy each other and fall to the ground to die.

and the final words were these:

I put the comic down and simply gulped my disbelief. Comics would never be this good again.

The Smallest Big Chap in music - Eric B and Rakim with Follow The Leader

Do you remember the '80's?

Rotten, weren't they?

Greedy, hairsprayed, red braced and shallow.

Having said that, a couple of chaps made a record called Paid in Full, then followed up with this record in 1988.

Listen to the title track, close your eyes and imagine being back in 1988, when the idea of rap music (only just evolved out of Electro, let me remind you) being ANY GOOD instead of "cool" was laughable.

Not any more.

I saw these boys play Brixton Acadamy in south London in 1987 when they were supporting Run DMC.

next time I read about them they had spent the $800,000 advance for Follow The Leader on jewellry.....

Give it a listen. Then listen to any of the good rappers today. See a connection?

Super Heroes don't kill, that's why they're SUPER Heroes

X-Men issue 211 marked a fundamental change in the way I viewed the comic medium.

Up until this point, the only time in my Marvel experience that death was visited upon the bad was either by accident or by characters who personified the term "antihero" (Wolverine, Punisher, etc) - the sort of chap whom the term "bad form, that" is as much their theme tune as "arrrgh! nononono! help!!".

Look, killing happened but the good guys didn't do it, all right?

My life....

Anyhoo, Marvel created a crossover (i.e. a story that was told over all the major characters own comic books) called The Mutant Massacre, in which, for some inexplicable reason, cold sneering types in questionably skin-tight spandex discovered a relatively peaceful bunch of, you guessed it, mutants (known as "The Morlocks"), living in the sewers and tunnels below New York, and started killing them. Not "biff!pow!Take that hero scum!" but "Bang bang - you're dead baby doll" (an actual quote from one of the ruffians).

Put into Marvel context, for me, this was like watching Morcombe and Wise in a porn movie - shocking, terrifying and strangely interesting at the same time.

So, the sneerers (called "Marauders") armed with both guns and superpowers systematically murdered every one that they saw.

Whoa there hoss, I hear you cry, what about these bleedin' X-Men? Aren't they supposed to help? Aren't they heroes?

Exactly, so at this point, I'm thinking "just you wait, naughty sneering Marauder types, my fellows will show you what for!" .

Unfortunately, or to be blunt, staggeringly, this is not the case.

In the X-Men charge, chins high, teeth a-gleam with more muscle definition than they know what to do with and are cut to pieces.

Shadowcat (a 14 year old who turns intangible) is frozen in her ghost like state
Nightcrawler (Errol Flynn in a devil Smurf outfit) is shredded and put in a coma
Angel ( a former X-Man) is crucified

You reading this? Its supposed to be "biff!pow! take that bad chaps!", and this happens.

Then the reason for this post happens:

One team member, Colossus, leaps to the aid of his fallen friends.
The nearest naughty chap, Riptide, delights in the ability to spin at over 10,000rpm, gaily throwing shuriken as he does (there is a "he should have run out by now" undercurrent going on, but leave your disbelief at reception) and is responsible for killing the majority of the people in the battle.
As Colossus - a solid steel Russian who uses trees as baseball bats - closes in on Riptide, we get treated to the gloat of "at hurricane strength winds you can punch a piece of straw through solid oak, and I can spin WAY faster than that".
Then you notice that the bullet proof, ZZAP! proof, basically Hulk-proof Colossus has a number of shuriken sticking out of him.
"Good grief, he's going to die" I thought.

No.

Colossus sees Shadowcat (struck by a spear by a chap named "Harpoon"), sees Nightcrawler (put into a coma by Riptide) and then grabs the chap by the throat.

And then snaps his neck.

Killing him.

At this point, I reckon around 75% of the teenage population of the world said "fuck" with their jaw below sea-level.

And the coup-de-grace is delivered thus: "Harpoon! Make peace with your god, little man - you are next".

BLOODY HELL FIRE!

Now, as you may have read, I was inspired to write this nonsense by the author of Dave's Long Box, who has patented the term "the F&!K YEAH! files" for moments just like this.

So, to avoid litigation, I will adopt the terminology once used on the original and downright funny magazine Loaded back in the '90's, who said "Good Work Fella!" for the truly awe inspiring and "Bunch Of Arse, Mate!" for the buttock-clenchingly piss poor.

so, all together now:

"GOOD WORK COLOSSUS FELLA!"

his reward for this was to be a quaraplegic for a while, but let this not reduce the importance of his actions...

This is Magneto trying to fix the damage to Colossus after the big chap passed out.

Best Film made by Samo Hung

Have you not seen this film?


What do you mean, you can't read Cantonese?


Right, had your chance - muffed it.




Try this one:





Better?

Things you need to know about this film before you watch it:

• its the best film to come out of Asia since 1975
• Not only does it have Samo, it also has Pops, Lam Ching Ying, Dick Wei and Billy Chow
• If the names Pops, Lam Ching Ying, Dick Wei and Billy Chow mean nothing to you, scold yourself thoroughly and Google them immediately.
• it has (IMHO) the most painful kick in movie history*
• it has proper acting in it and makes grown men cry in places
• Big Mike in Hong Kong says its his favourite film also, and he's the referee in Jet Li's epic film "Fearless" (the tall bloke with a failed moustache and a loudhailer) so it must be good.

Story:

Samo and his mates are pedicab drivers, they work hard for little money. One of their number picks up the most delightful girl, who it eventually transpires is a lady of the night, the chap works hard and eventually steals her away from her (terrifically evil) pimp and marries her.

Then it turns from a good Hong Kong film to a good film full stop. I'm not going to tell you what happens, just try to find a copy and say "that Olav, he may be a fat twit but by the great leather puttees of Jemediah Goldstein, he knows a good film when he sees it!".

Here are a few words from the great website HK Flix:

Look out for cameos by nearly every big name in the industry, including Lam
Ching Ying ("Mr. Vampire", "Prodigal Son"), Eric Tsang ("Aces Go Places",
"Golden Chicken"), Corey Yuen Kwai ("The 7 Grandmasters", "Drunken Master"
action director), Peter Chan Lung ("Knockabout"), Hsiao Ho ("Mad Monkey Kung
Fu"), and an utterly awesome fighting performance with Sammo by the legendary
Lau Kar Leung (AKA "Liu Chia Liang").

*Dave's long box does this a lot, and I like it.




*Oh, its a spinning kick, delivered by Samo in the grip of the most terrible vengeance driven rage, straight into the face of a thug just as he lights a cigarette. BAM!!!! The stunt men in this film get hurt in the course of creating art.

Interlude

I highly recommend listening to Danny Baker on Radio LDN 94.9, between 3pm and 5pm GMT.

In the UK he is forever cursed with being a former Daz washing powder salesman, but to a small and robust minority, he is the best radio DJ on God's green earth. And he's got the Sony awards to prove it!

Go on, go here and have a listen.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/london/content/articles/2005/10/13/danny_baker_feature.shtml

An indicator of topics include - plywood bow ties, show tunes, Ken Nordine's "Colours" album and Danny La Rue.

"A face born for radio" as the great man once said.

In the beginning there was Thor...

Well, it had to happen.

After reading every single post in Dave's Long Box I have been filled with a sense of purpose (or some other type of dolphin). I must tread my own path and give the masses something to point and and agree, though they may be insolvent and destitute, at least they can do better than this.

Here we go then.

Olav's comic Genesis

IN THE BEGINNING, THERE WAS WALT SIMONSON.

1983, London, a couple of emaciated suburban house apes can be seen entering Comic Showcase just off Shaftesbury Avenue, in the West End. Ah, the smell of the place.....where was I? Right. The leading stick figure marches to the Marvel rack and picks up Thor #337.

And here it is...

Its the first "proper" issue of Thor (the god of thunder, Nordic nobber of the winged hat and fairly shakey Shakespearean lingo) written, pencilled and inked by Mr Walt Simonson.

Yes, Mr Walt Simonson.

As the Orpington skellington in Comic Showcase flicks through, we see Donald Blake (disappointingly beige alter ego of the flaxen haired Asgardian) attacked by a frisbee, bundled into a taxi by the feds, buttered up and pointed danger-wards by Nick Fury (motto: No, I don't have a parrot and a wooden leg - sod off) and arrives at a space ship causing trouble at t'mill.

So far, so so.

So who, you may be asking, is the horse-faced bint on the cover, wearing Thor's clothes as if a survivor of the recent Ragnarok Swingers bash?

A dangerous rogue?

A demon, intent on ruinous deeds?

The winner of the 3.10 at Doncaster?

Nope, its Bill.

Yes! says I, at last, we have a comic character with its roots in Oliver Twist' terrifying thug, Bill Sykes. Now all we need is to find out the starship is called Bullseye and see Sif wearing a serving wench outfit and all is right in the heavens.

Well no. He's Beta Ray Bill, famed for not being involved in Lionel Bart plays.

Anyway, before we get thrown out of the comic shop for loitering and making the place untidy, lets get to the res, some say the nub of all this.

Bill is a good chap and thinks our blond hero is a demon.

Thor is a good chap and thinks our horsey chum is a demon.

Bill, and lets not mince words, bashes several barrels out of Thor, grabs Mjolnir (the famed Hammer of the Gods) and is mistakenly taken by Odin (father of Thor and officially titled DO NOT MESS WITH THIS NICE MAN) back to Asgard for tea and buns.

With the hammer gone, Thor reverts to beige Don Blake and literally cries "FATHER!"

Well, the shopkeeper noticed my hip 1983 hair standing up on end and said "that;ll be £0.99 please".

And that's how it started.