Shootout at the "Oh, gay!" corral! Hawk, Son of Tomahawk, is beyond a doubt the queerest-looking western lawman I have ever seen. Yes, more so than Bat Lash. Or even the Rawhide Kid, when he's wearing that weird floor-length nightshirt. Observe Hawk's exquisite chartreuse embroidery, done in an Art Nouveau botanical pattern. (Quite remarkable, that, considering Hawk was born about a century before the advent of the Art Nouveau movement). Note also the perfectly coifed hair, described in "Who's Who" #10 (December, 1985) as "brown, with a blond streak." And I'm sure that's completely natural. He keeps a bottle of peroxide in that beaded man-purse, er, Native american pouch, doesn't he? Oh, sure, his pop was a natural blond and his mommy was an Indian princess, but human genetics don't work like that. He's a frontiersman, not an alleycat. Naw, ol' Hawk just wanted some bangin' highlights. I completely understand; I also like to express my feelings through my hair. Sometimes I get so mad, I just wanna punch something, but then I take a deep breath and touch up my roots and I feel all better. And then there's Hawk's limp little scarf -- no bandanas for him! -- and of course the tight-fitting, open-to-the-navel shirt. At least, I assume it's a shirt. The way Frank Thorne draws it here, it could very well be a one-piece. All that's missing is the ice skates!
7 comments:
Every time I come across this picture (I like to reread old Who's Whos) this ensemble strikes me as eminently Elvis-worthy. Tell me late-period Elvis wouldn't have gone for this.
In fact, I used to think this was deliberately Elvisesque, as I'd browse past it, note the sideburns, bell-bottoms, and flair, mistaking the purse for the bottom edge of a guitar, and think "Huh. DC had a post-rockabilly, '70s lounge-act hero? They really do do it all!"
Is Hawk part insect? It looks like his abdomen is covered in some flesh-colored segmented chitin.
Touch up your roots?
YOU'RE NOT A NATURAL REDHEAD??
I will now question EVERYTHING I think I know to be true.
"Hmmm...frontier criminals are a cowardly, supersticious lot.How best to frighten them?...I know! I'll dress like a durn polecat!"
Now we know why there are no series title "Grandson of Tomahawk"...
Chawunky: Now I'm picturing a middle-aged Hawk, weighing about two hundred pounds heavier, asking his manservant for another pemmican-and-banana sammitch.
David: The arms and legs are certainly spindly enough. I'm guessing some mean little kid tore off his other two limbs.
Anonymous and Kevin: I didn't mean to blow your minds. But anybody who read "The Super-Stalag of Space" already knew what my natural hair color was. (What, you thought I dyed my red hair brown just prior to that story?) It's just I don't normally like to mention it. Just like I'd rather not refer to myself by my birth name, "Phyl Staad." (Whisper it and it's almost like stage direction for a porno.)
Bully: As if the lime-green and black jumpsuit didn't make him stand out enough.
Scipio: Haw! How about "Hawk's Longtime Companion, Louis Lane?"
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