Some People--!

Me: Spider-Man of 1986, if you had a nightclub act about your black costume, how would it go?

[in the distance, a piano vamp begins -- softly at first, but steadily growing louder]

Spider-Man: Well, y'see, I'd pretend I was home getting dressed for patrol. I'd take some mousse and mousse my hair. I'd take some web fluid, smell it, and put it in my web shooters. And then I'd spot the audience!

[a full orchestra kicks in as he sings, to the tune of "All I Need Is The Girl" from "Gypsy"]

Once, my look was garish.
That shit? Fanboys* cherish.
Reds so bright they glow,
Blues that shock you more than Electro.

So I had to update,
Maybe yellow -- but wait!
Spider-Woman 2
Has class up the wazoo.

Goodbye red!
So long blue!
Black and white's the thing to do!

Now I'm stylin'.
Chicks are smilin'.
I'm a 5'10 dream-come-true!
And the Black Cat
Says I'm "all that."
Sure, the first try turned out to be a symbiote;
That's been my luck since I was a zygote.

Spandex:
What I used next.
If you ask me, it's a beaut!
And fanboys*
Often lack basic hygiene, style and poise

Which makes all of their insults moot.
All I really need's my black suit!

This isn't a popular opinion, I know, but I really hate Spider-Man's red-and-blue suit. It's just too busy. All those webs? It's an ugly mess. That's why I prefer his old black-and-white number from the pre-Venom 80's. It has the most important costume elements of the original -- Mexican wrestling mask eyeballs and the spider logo -- and scraps all the extraneous detail. (Why the hell would a spider have webs on its own body? That'd be like Hawkman covering his costume with little nests.) And the bright colors didn't help support a recurring plot-point in the book: that many New Yorkers describe Spider-Man as "creepy" or "inhuman-looking." Really? The muscular wisecracking guy in the bright red-and-blue costume is "creepy?" (I hope the Silver Age Atom isn't reading this; he's already feeling bad enough about himself.) Whatever, people. At least the black-and-white suit looks a bit more grown-up and intimidating. (Cue up clip of Spider-Man emerging from behind a changing screen, wearing his black-and-white number for the first time, mask in hand, and catching his reflection in a full-length mirror. His lips curl in a tentative smile, and then joyful tears begin to stream down his face. "I'm handsome--!" he gasps. "I'm a handsome superhero, Marvel...!")

By the time "Web Of Spider-Man" #17 (August, 1986) appeared in stores, Spider-Man had gotten rid of the alien symbiote and had taken to alteranating between a fabric reproduction of the alien suit and his hideous old duds. I'd hoped he'd finally decide to stick with the black-and-whites. But then David Michelinie put an end to the costume controversy with the "nuclear option" of plotlines: creating a supervillain who wore the alien version of the costume, and then having him assault Mary Jane. So much for Peter Parker ever wearing black again, huh? (Jeebus. It's like a candidate in a Presidential debate using a shotgun on his opponent.)

Of course, the Spider-Man franchise has had myriad problems since the late 80's *coughCloneSagacough* so an ugly (yet inexplicably popular) costume really is small potatoes when compared to all the rest of it. Still, I really miss that costume.

*Not you guys! You guys are great!

I, Robed

*sigh* Late again, but I have a good excuse. I'm recharging the batteries on my time bubble, which takes forever. So, for want of anything better to do, I drove down to Arkansas with Jeremy, his brother Steve, his sister-in-law Sarah, and his 3-year-old niece Olivia to visit Jeremy's folks. They have internet access, but one mustn't be rude... so I couldn't do any blogging until almost midnight, when everyone had fallen asleep... at which point I needed a little shut-eye myself. Fun fact: on the car ride down there, we learned that Midnight Oil's "Beds Are Burning" is Olivia's new favorite song. So, spurred on by Steve and Sarah, Jeremy busted out a spot-on impression of the lead singer (multi-talented, that boy). Olivia's reaction: eyes squinched shut, lips pursed like she'd just eaten a lemon, and her hands over her ears. Everybody's a critic! Okay, that's enough chit-chat. Let's blog!



Remember that bathrobe of Doctor Strange's that I thought was just the bee's knees, as the kids in the ghetto say nowadays? Well, my feelings for this one are quite the reverse. Those unlucky dopes (like Jeremy) who bought "Web Of Spider-Man" #6 (September, 1985) got the above image as the splash-page: hot telephony action starring the squeezably corrupt Kingpin, who has inexplicably decided to highlight his major figure flaw by wearing something even more padded than himself. While I simply adore the color combo, something about this robe just gives me the creeps. Because it's being worn by the Kingpin. I have the feeling all that magenta silk is covering a rigid, intricate framework of suspenders and corsets. And it's probably bulletproof. And reeks of cigar smoke and bratwurst. And the color-coordinated sandals are a bit much, huh? Hell, why not some fluffy bunnyslippers? He's the Kingpin, for fuck's sake; who would dare to make fun of him? To his face, I mean. I think the Kingpin should wear the bunnyslippers and an old-timey floorlength nightgown with a floppy, pointed cap. Like Ebenezer Scrooge. All the time. Because he's a dick, and it would therefore be hilarious.

I guess all the excitement on this splash page comes from wondering what this important telephone call could be (and whether or not the Kingpin is cinching that belt or -- *gag* -- disrobing). Here were some of my guesses:

1. Custom pizza order made directly to the C.E.O. of Little Caesar's.
2. Prank call to Silvermane.
3. Request to local radio station that they play Starship's "We Built This City" -- or else.
4. Colecovision technical support.
5. Conference-call phone sex with the Enforcers.

Your turn!

Dead Wood

The American West: a rugged, unforgiving environment fit only for gaunt, sophisticated, slim-ankled fifty-something bachelors. Or at least, that's the order of things according to this Lee Riders jeans ad from"Adventure Comics" #390 (March-April 1970). I agree; nothing says "roughing it" quite like sitting in a faux wood-paneled basement, reading aloud from "Us Magazine" and making catty remarks about Lindsay Lohan.

Man. It's like they want to role-play but they just can't muster the enthusiasm for it. "You look like a real cowboy, Lee." "And you look like Noel Coward, 'Uncle Frank.' No, 'Uncle Frank,' I really don't feel like wrestling with you right now. Maybe after I finish this crossword puzzle. And probably not even then. But I still get to keep the five hundred bucks... right, 'Uncle Frank?'"

And now, a worrisome juxtaposition of images from the end of the advertisement:



It's like an instruction manual for illiterate serial killers.

The Unpalatable X-Men

Yup... I put Jeremy's copy of "The X-Men" #3 (January, 1963) on a flatbed scanner. It was a lot easier to work with once I folded the spine backwards. ...What?! Oh, p'shaw. It says right on the cover it only costs twelve cents.

In this issue, the X-Men (no "Uncanny" in the title... yet!) meet the monstrous Blob... who nowadays looks more svelte than your average Wal-Mart customer. But do you know what I found truly horrifying in this comic? The clothes.



The Angel's pants are cut quite generously in the ass region, aren't they? What's his cover story when some curvacious debutante asks him why his butt looks so big? Bee sting? Unfinished liposuction? Adult diaper? But of course he never gets in that kind of jam. Through the Magic Of Comics, as soon as those voluminous trousers are belted, a good third of that lumpen mass vanishes and he looks like he has no wings at all! As for the Beast, I know what I'm buying him for Christmas 1963: an iron. Also a 9x12 "glamour shot" of myself but that's a whole 'nother story. (There's a panel in this issue showing him wearing only pajama pants, and he's shirtless and furry-chested and he's holding a calculus textbook... with his feet. Heaven. Pure heaven.)



Quick! Choose the most disturbing aspect of this panel:

1. Middle-aged Professor X confessing to the reader via thought-balloon that he's deeply infatuated with the teenage Marvel Girl, a.k.a. his pupil.
2. Professor X's belief that the only things standing between himself and Marvel Girl's hymen are his job (night manager at Taco Bell) and his handicap. (Apparently it's not just the legs that are paralyzed.)
3. Cyclop's suit.

The correct answer is #3, of course. Purple plaid, with pants to match, and a narrow little tie to go with his narrow little pursed-up mouth. You wouldn't think purple plaid could look dowdy but Cyclops manages to pull that off. Kudos, tightass! (I would have rocked that purple plaid suit back when I dyed my hair red, but then I'm just cool that way.)

Gah! I never thought I'd say this about the Blob, but he needs to strip back down to his underwear, pronto! Maybe the problem here is his color combination. He looks like an ambulatory Virginia ham... that does magic tricks. And the scoop neckline of the shirt paired with the high collar on the cape... it elongates his neck in such a weird way, like we're not even seeing his real head. Like it's one of those fakey Mardi Gras papier mache heads, and his own head is even more itty-bitty and hidden inside... like you could peer up one of his nostrils and see a teensy eyeball glaring back at you. The whole thing just gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Hey, bonus scarrage!

In the 30th century we call this position "the asteroid swarm." It's illegal on three planets! I've never seen it done fully-clothed before. (Kinky!) It's tricky for beginners, but I've found it helps if you place a trampoline on both sides.

Hammer Pants: The Mighty Thor

Greetings, gentle readers. It saddens thine most favored costumer, aye, with grievous groans and rendings of his brightly-hued garments, that his post should be late. Know only this: mine trip to Asgard was of long duration, owing to differences in the passage of time 'twixt that fabled land and lowly Midgard. Mayhap thou hath noted also that my speech be wondrous strange. Mine sincerest apologies be thine, but I was compelled to enter Asgard 'neath a false identity and the shedding of certain aspects of that masquerade hath proven to be most difficult indeed. Still, 'twas in the service of that noblest of goals: to redesign the costume of the Odinson himself, the Mighty Thor!

What Doth Be His Deal:
Doth thou jest? I speak of the Mighty Thor! All who breathe sing of the glorious form of the Thunder God. And those unfortunates who live in miserable ignorance of the Odinson need but consult the font of all knowledge, the Wikipedia.

Foul Deeds 'Gainst Fashion Itself:
Some superhero costumes withstand the changing tastes of the inexorably passing decades because they be true classics, without need of improvement. Thor's raiments belong not in that category. Like most costumes, Thor's hast limped along with either minor or temporary alterations because of a sickly nostalgia among the Odinson's fans. The changing of the merest stitch be enow to set the pasty, unwashed horde to howling like nigh unto terrible Fenris. Their gibbering electronic protestations to the contrary, Thor's costume sucks donkey balls.

I take umbrage firstly with the boots, with their ace of spades/cow-catcher tops and their strappy/stripey middles. Thor's pre-Christian muscle shirt also sticks in mine craw. 'Twould look most appropriate on a body builder from Long Island circa 1988 -- but it be not worthy of the Thunder God. Thor's winged helm finds disapproval in mine eyes, as the shape of it flatters his divine features not a whit, and resembles not so much as a silver-plated stocking cap... with wings glued on. His overly-starched cape, attached without fanfare to his muscle shirt, is likewise a point of contention. But of all the many abominable qualities of Thor's garments, the six yellow discs 'pon his midsection vex me the most. What, pray tell, are they meant to be? Frisbees? Pancakes? I knoweth not -- and if thou claimeth to have the answer, I call thee a filthy liar, good sir. Truly, Thor be in need of mine artistic talents.

When Titans Meet!
Having attained the most divine fur and leather raiments from a Renaissance Faire booth (whilst the propriator's back was turned) I reinvented mineself as an Asgardian costume maker with the noble appelation of "Bloga the Impeding." Then, 'twas a simple matter to distract Heimdall ("Hey, but look yonder!') and sneak past him over Bifrost into gleaming Asgard.

The Odinson I found in brooding reverie (i.e. trying to get the tiniest synapse in his brain to fire) in the back of a tavern. I ordered two steins of mead and then took the foamy beverages to Thor's table. I announced mineself with mine deepest, most booming voice: "Thor, great friend! Oh, Bloga the Impeding hast found thee at last!" Mine eyes detected in Thor's visage the strenuous calculating of his feeble brain as he attempted to recognize the handsome figure before him. I pressed on. "Surely thou must know thine old compatriot, Bloga the Impeding, most fashionable of the gods! Mayhap thou hath seen mine needlework in the stylish garments of your friend, Fandral the Flaming."

"Fandral the Flashing," Thor mumbled, his speech slurred by many tankards of ale.

"Precisely," said I, and hurriedly sat beside him.

Behold: Mine Presentation!
"Thor, mine brother-in-arms, very much should I like to regale thee with mine many blood-curdling adventures whilst away from Asgard's comforts -- but it shall suffice to say thine friend hath learned even greater skill in his chosen trade of fashion design. And thou, should it please thee, are to be mine next client!"

The dimmest of lights gleamed in Thor's drowsy eyes. "Art thou,' he queried, "as skillful as mine Midgardian friend, the Wasp?"

The untalented harlot's name caused mine anger to rise with startling swiftness but I restricted mine comments to this: "That mine talents surpass the Wasp's there can be no doubt, as mine many successes can attest! Why, only recall how I hath arrayed thine good friend, Fandral the Fabulous!"

"Flashing," said Thor with a hint of annoyance in his low, gurgling voice. He seized the stein and drained it in one gulp, regarding me with great suspicion.

"But of course," I stammered. "Mine absence from this great land hast been of, um, such a duration... er, certain names escape mine, um... MORE MEAD HERE!"

A buxom Asgardian barmaid speedily presented us with an entire pitcher, which the Odinson drained forthwith. With a casual gesture of his tree-like forearm, he swept every item from the table: the pitcher, the steins, a half-eaten turkey leg, several cocktail napkins emblazoned with amusing runes, and an inebriated pixie. I laid mine drawings before him.



"Regard!" I exclaimed. "This sassy, streamlined little number takes thine image boldly into the twenty-first century! Thine perplexing yellow discs hath been mightily reimagined as a series of large, gold studs on a navy-and-red leather costume. Thine most kind and considerate friend hath also taken it upon himself to simplify thine boots, and to give thee gloves to match. So as not to overpower thine handsome new costume, 'twould be wise to trim thine golden hair a smidge. A Donegal beard wouldst be just the thing to frame thine strong jawline and add a touch of the warrior spirit.

"But if this ensemble catches not thine lordly fancy, feast thine eyes on this!



"Here thee may behold a costume steeped in tradition -- half leather, half chainmail and all kick-ass! In this ensemble, thine long-lost friend Bloga the Impeding hast replaced the blinding blue-black of thine current raiment with somber tones, the better to highlight the gleaming gold detailing and the bold crimson cape. With a stylized helm and a thick blonde beard, thou wilt be a potent vision of Norse masculinity! What say thee, Odinson?"

All Shall Tremble At The Words Of The Mighty Thor:
Thor grasped both drawings in his mighty hands and peered at them for quite some time, holding them at various distances from his red-rimmed eyes, as though unable to focus properly upon them. At length he flung them back on the table and slurred, "Thou hath confounded the Odinson, Bloga the Impeding. I thought thou said thou had more talent than the Wasp...?"

T'was at this juncture, gentle readers, that thine fashionable friend totally lost it. "Now see thee here, Miss Thang, Bloga the Impeding suffers not the mead-soaked insinuations of--!" But mine protestations were interrupted by a lengthy belch from Thor's beautiful lips as he forthwith lost all consciousness. He slumped to the floor, his divine noggin rebounding off the oaken table with a terrible noise. For mine own part, I managed to get out of the tavern without paying mine tab ("Hey, but look yonder!") and high-tailed it back to lowly Midgard and Jeremy's lowly apartment.

Enjoy thine stupid yellow pancakes, thou jerk.

Time-Travel Challenge: Grunge To Rockabilly

Welcome to the third of my time-travel design challenges, in which I select a comic character who is mired in his or her decade's trends and imagine how they'd look if they had been created in another era. This time around I selected Grunge, whose name doesn't even have anything to do with his powers. He may as well have been called "Polka" or "Viennese Waltz." From his original "Kurt Cobain by way of Fantastic Sams" haircut to the overabundance of leather straps to that stupid winged skull tattoo on his chest, Grunge was a transparent attempt to lure readers by lumping together a bunch of fads.

But comic book writers have pulled that crap for decades... as you'll see when I pluck Grunge from the depressing 90's and drop him down in the paranoid-yet-peppy late 50's. Behold... Rockabilly!



From "Sunshine Superman: Popular Music Trends In The American Comic Book" by Professor Nicolas Kim Coppola, published on Earth-4/4:

"In December of 1957, Elvis Presley received his draft notice. He entered the Army on March 24, 1958. That same week, in 'Blackhawk' #122, editor Jack Schiff introduced a pompadoured, super-powered guitar player named Percival Chang. His superhero codename: Rockabilly.

In that original story, Rockabilly is introduced in civilian garb as the American nephew of the book's repulsively stereotypical Asian character, 'Chop-Chop.' (The interaction of Rockabilly and Chop-Chop was visually jarring -- Rockabilly was depicted with a reasonable amount of realism, 'Archie Comics' eyeballs aside, while Chop-Chop was afflicted with a lemon-yellow hue, a massive overbite, and what can only be described as a 'Ringling Brothers Barnum & Bailey' penoir. ) In the midst of Rockabilly's visit to Blackhawk Island, the villainous Killer Shark attacks. After Rockabilly and Chop-Chop scurry for cover, the Blackhawks are mystified by the appearance of a mute 'Metal Man' who helps them to vanquish their foe. Near the end of the story, the Metal Man reverts to human form, revealing himself as Rockabilly. On the last page, he explains the origin of his powers. It turns out he had been practicing his guitar in a jalopy in the middle of a desert, not realizing until the last minute that it was the site of an A-bomb test. He found a foxhole but its sole inhabitant -- a spindly, bespectacle scientist -- panicked and pushed him back out of it just as the bomb exploded. Instead of killing him, the radiation gave him the ability to take on the property of any inanimate substance he touched. To this end, he had taken to carrying about various minerals in his pockets.

Rockabilly proved popular enough that in 1959 he was granted his own series, 'Romp With Rockabilly.' It was here he first donned his memorable, gem-bedecked belt, gloves, and boots. Alas, he wasn't so popular that he could survive the seeming demise of rock 'n' roll music that occurred prior to the advent of the Beatles, and a mere fourteen issues later, the book was cancelled.

Rockabilly's appearances were few and far between after that. In the 70's, Denny O'Neil used him for an issue of 'Black Canary/Black Orchid' (under the moniker 'Rocker') and Bob Rozakis included him as a member of 'Titans West' in two issues of the fading 'Teen Titans' comic. In the 80's, he played at Donna Troy's wedding in 'The New Teen Titans.' Also that decade, Phil Foglio starred him (under his original codename of 'Rockabilly') in a four-issue miniseries that revealed his third cousin to be the Wonder Woman villain, Egg-Fu. His last appearance -- and certainly his least illustrious one -- was in the background of a single panel in the "Kingdom Come" miniseries. There, literal-minded painter Alex Ross, never one to resist an obvious joke, depicted him in his old age as resembling the 70's Elvis: paunchy, bloated and stone-cold dead... on a toilet."

I liked the general idea of doing a 50's version of Grunge but Jeremy has barely any comics with him in them, none of which are "Gen13." So my fictional backstory for him has zip to do with his real-world ficitional backstory. Sorry.

Anyway, I gave him a nice wide belt for his fancy rocks, plus Western-style flared gloves and cowboy boots. Note the very 50's collared cape. And I translated that dopey tattoo into a logo combining wings, a guitar, and just for the hell of it, a heart. I think it works okay.

I'm not a big fan of trendy characters. I wonder how Grunge will fare in the coming years. At the very least, a name change is in order. I don't think even Dazzler would have lasted this long if her named had been "Disco Belle."

Rescue Me: Steeplejack II

Hey there, everybody! It's me, Blocked Boy... er, I mean, "Blockade Boy." Sorry this took so long. I was worried I was starting to repeat myself with my costume designs, and it took forever to push through my creative block. So this will be a catch-up weekend for me. I'll post my Grunge-to-Rockabilly design either tonight or tomorrow. My big Thor post will be Monday. They're already designed, so all I have to do is draw them. After that I might back off the artwork posts a tad -- say, only once or twice a week, with my old wise-ass commentary on the other days.

So, by the special request of commenter Simon, I tackled Steeplejack 2. How could I have guessed he'd be my biggest design challenge ever? I knew right away I wanted to get him out of that stupid green bodysuit. And the Golden Age Flash rip-off helmet was a goner (just like Steeplejack 2, heh-heh) along with the meaningless pocket-tastic harness doohickey. But beyond that? My first instinct was to armor the bejeezus out of him but I've done that way too much lately. And I liked the bearish vibe of the meaty, slablike original, but I didn't want to just copy that look, either. I was stuck.

And then I remembered how much I liked the Wrecking Crew. Particularly Bulldozer. And I decided to put him in more of a regular supervillain costume, but with my trademark Blockade Boy twist.



I love to combine old-fashioned super-costume elements with street clothes -- as you can see from my current costume. Steeplejack 2 was a perfect candidate for that look. So I dressed him in a leather outfit that simulates the look of rusting, riveted steel. The trousers have that plunging waistline I like so much. (I just can't seem to help myself on that score.) Then I gave him a genny-ine hardhat and a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off, to give him the flavor of a regular "Joe Lunchpail" type.

But I see some of you have raised your hands. To answer your unspoken protests, yes, I know this Maxwell Plumm person is a sleazy businessman and about the furthest thing away from a working stiff, like, ever. Relax. I got you covered. I've an idea that would have reinvigorated the Steeplejack concept and given it some longevity. Howsabout... he "gets religion" and becomes a hardcore, radical socialist? And his modus operandi becomes violent "home invasions" of sky-high penthouses, wherein he takes small valuables like jewelry and then trashes the place before he leaves? He could put the loot in a lunchbox with a magnetized base so it stays stuck to the girder. And then he uses the money to fund various radical causes. Voila. Instant Captain America villain. Think of the havoc he could wreak at a WTO protest! Oh, and howsabout... he travels around on a flying girder? (pauses, waits for delighted applause to die down) He could use the girder to smash through windows and to batter his foes. How would that work, precisely? It could be controlled with hidden foot-pedals, or maybe he has a psychic link to it or it's just magic (paging the Enchantress!) or sumpin'. Y'know, if he was in the DC universe it would be a snap -- the girder would just be constructed of Nth Metal or whatever the hell Braniac 5 made those flight rings out of. For Marvel? I dunno. I just think it would be an incredible visual -- plus it would be quirky and interesting enough that your typical idea-starved Marvel editor would think twice before deciding to off the guy.

But I guess it's too late for that, huh?

Because It Made Me Look Like A Goddamn Leprechaun, That's Why

Do-over!

Sorry, no Steeplejack 2 post yet. I just haven't figured out an interesting redesign for the guy yet. My best effort so far wound up looking a lot like my Shellshock design. I don't want to fall into a body armor rut. But I'm gonna keep trying. If I can't come up with something I absolutely love for him tomorrow, I'll go ahead with my Time Travel post.

In the meantime I've redesigned my costume again. Because I decided to cut my hair. Because as much as I love my new Donegal, when seen in concert with my youthful Shoney's Big Boy haircut I look like I'm an extra in a gay porno version of "The Shoemaker And The Elves." So I razored my hair super-short and sewed myself a vaguely more badass costume. (It's as badass as pro wrestling, anyhow. Hey, that means new duds for Boris "The Steel Wall" Arkady! Whee! Oh, badasses don't say "whee." I meant to say "HELL YEAH!")



I redyed and slightly altered my boots from my last costume (frugal!) and I combined them with some tights, a wrestling belt and a spankin' new hoodie I sewed up to create a sort of hip-hop/Tekken 2 look. And although it caused me deep, spiritual pain to do so, I shaved my chest. The costume just looks better this way. I take my one consolation in the fact that my arms still look like an ape's, praise be to God. I love the goggles. They add some 21st century superheroic flair, since they're a bit like a mask, and they also give some needed color to my "head shot" now that I've foregone hair dye. And the bubble shapes on the hoodie were inspired by comic book thought balloons, since assisting other comic book folk is my stock in trade. Also, they soften the look and help keep it from looking all grim 'n' gritty.

This costume is based on one I'd designed in case the "Wolverine" look had won the poll. I did three costume designs for the poll choices -- one for the two mustaches, one for the muttonchops and one for the Donegal. Here they are:



That's right, my initial costume sketches are little cartoony guys, about two inches tall! Sweet Jesus, but I'm fascinating.

The original Donegal costume was going to have black tights and shoulder patches with side-by-side orange and purple on the top and boots. Once I drew it full size, though, I realized it looked like something Duo Damsel would have worn for cardio boxing. That darned bustier shape on the top...! I might as well have worn a sports bra, too. So I decided to switch to my muttonchop design. Which was just okay. It didn't seem to go that well with my ultra-dramatic Donegal though. And the more I thought about it, the more I didn't want to have to see it on my blog page every day. I'm pretty happy with this new one, though!

(For now.)

All Glory To The Highfather!

Dig my sweet-ass Donegal!

When I closed the polls -- nominally at 10 PM last night, although it turned out to be barely 10:01, with somebody getting in one last vote at that time, the "Highfather" vaulted into a decisive lead over the second-place finisher, the "Doctor Strange." Here's the voting breakdown:

• 1st: The "Highfather," 75 votes, 38% total
• 2nd: The "Doctor Strange," 55 votes, 28% total
• 3rd: The "Wolverine," 36 votes, 18% total
• 4th: The "Dum Dum Dugan," 31 votes, 16% total

So that's 197 votes in all. (Coming from probably five people... heh, heh!) Now, I love all these looks -- or else I never would have offered to grow them -- but I will admit that y'all surprised me. I had a feeling that the "Dum Dum Dugan" would be a front-runner, after all my gushing about it in my earlier posts. But somebody out there was hell-bent on my growing the "Highfather." And I'm more than happy to oblige. It's a splendid beard, if I do say so myself: luxuriously long and thick, yet beautifully trimmed and shaped, and it looks boss as hell. I have a real "circus strongman" thing going now. I only hope Brother Bicep doesn't get too jealous.

I sketched various costumes to go with the different facial hair configurations. For the "Highfather" -- which is actually a Donegal, and here's a page showing a rather handsome young man wearing one -- I went with a low, square neckline and short sleeves. With such a gloriously leonine beard on display, I thought it would be best to show a little skin. It goes with the strongman/tough guy/fantasy barbarian feel of the beard. (I've taken to monopolizing Jeremy's churchwarden pipe, since I look so much better smoking it than he does.) And the costume is purple and orange. But of course.

Thank you, everyone who voted. Have a terrific day!

Rescue Me: Bird-Man 2

Quite some time ago, the vigilante Scourge embarked upon a mission to rid the world of super-villains -- provided they were kind of lame and didn't have terribly illustrious careers. Oh, and it helped if their costumes sucked. That's the kind of villain Scourge really enjoyed shooting... in the back.

I'm no fan of Scourge, or of his editorial purpose. Personally, I think a good story can be written with any character. It's just takes enough imagination and effort. And in the case of Scourge's victims, I'd start by giving them better costumes.

Bird-Man 2 was one of the Ani-Men. And that's about all I could find about this guy on the web. I couldn't even find an image of him. I know he succeeded the first Bird-Man, a.k.a. Henry Hawk. Not to be confused with Tony Hawk. Whose nickname is "Birdman." (My head; it is spinning.)

Okay, so I did find out that at least one of the Bird-Men got his powers from his costume. And Count Nefaria had his scientists mutate the Ani-Men into naturally super-powered people. And there were antennae on the sides of the Bird-Man helmet for some reason. I hope that The Thing That Walks Like A Man, who seems to be really into Bird-Man, can explain it all to me.

As you can see from the link, the Bird-Man costume is kind of stupid. Not a big surprise to me, since I hate bird costumes. I can only think of a few that I like: Frank Quitely's Owlman design, the G-Force teens, Hawkman (natch... hairy chest time! Woo!), er... the Blue Falcon and Dynomutt... okay, I'm done. Anyway, it's hard to design a bird costume for a super-character and keep him from looking like a college football mascot. Or some drama major cavorting in front of a fast-food joint. So this was a helluva challenge for me just by its very nature. As an added challenge, I promised myself I'd include the antennae, and I'd keep them on the helmet. So here goes:



Yes, everyone's beautiful at the ballet. But seriously, I was trying to think how I could make the antennae look like a natural part of the helmet design instead of just jamming the damn things on the sides of it, like whoever did that with the old costume. And yes, I understand that the antennae were a unifying visual element for the Ani-Men but we're not talking about all of the Ani-Men now. We're talking Bird-Man, solo. At first I tried a "great horned owl" theme but it looked way too much like Quitely's Owlman. And then I came up with the peacock idea, with the antennae as the feathers in his crest. So we have the peacock helmet, the cloak that looks like a peacock's tail, gorgeous iridescent blue on the gloves and trousers, some purplish-silver metallic boots, and because I just can't help myself sometimes, a bare chest. (I know, I know. Sue me.) The cloak isn't attached to the wrists, because that would be stupid. But I'm sure it billows like a mofo when he's flying. That would look kinda cool.

Now, if I only knew the first thing about him--!

Blockade Boy Needs You!

I'm sure many of you are wondering -- although none of you have asked -- how I can get away with my sweet-ass goatee and muttonchops when I'm travelling in an era that frowns on such follicular extravagance. It's really quite simple. I just make sure my civilian identity comes from whichever walk of life justifies big, bold facial hair. Here are some of the aliases I've used, along with the time period in which I've used them:

• The Vicomte Bloque-DuBoise, a nobleman (1937-1949). Accessories: monocle, top hat, enormous medal-bedecked sash. Accent: French.
• Bucky Attaboy, 4-F character actor specializing in cowboy sidekick roles (1941-1945, 1950-1953). Accessories: plaid shirt, boots, cowboy hat with the front of the brim bent straight upward. Accent: nearly unintelligible.
• Doctor Blake Boyd, high-priced psychoanalyst (1948-1982). Accessories: tweed jacket with patches on the elbows, straight-stemmed bulldog pipe, thoughtful expression. Accent: Connecticut.
• Blockade Doggie, tormented beat poet and occasional surfer (1959-1967). Accessories: sweatshirt, bongos. Accent: mumbled Southern Californian.
• "Bulky" Boynton, motorcycle enthusiast and professional bouncer (1968-present). Accessories: leather jacket, sunglasses, WWI German army helmet, sneer. Accent: Midwestern whiskey-throated growl.
• Bob Kane-Hoyt III, trustfund radical (1969-1973, 1988-present). Accessories: pants woven by Central American Marxists, copy of Das Kapital, platinum American Express card. Accent: never really settled on one, since I spent most of my time sighing and making disgruntled clucking noises.
• Boris "The Steel Wall" Arkady, professional wrestler (1976-1989). Accessories: leopard-skin tights, satin cape, bullhorn. Accent: Russian.
• Bill K. Poindexter, Nasa engineer (1977-1985). Accessories: hornrimmed glasses, short-sleeved white dress shirt, clipboard, bad posture. Accent: nasal Floridian.
• Blox-Boi, struggling Nu-Metal keyboardist and cube-gleaming sk8er (1995-2002). Accessories: baggy pants, tuke, the stench of failure. Accent: whiny Brookline.
• Bollocks Kapow, snooty techno DJ (1993-present). Accessories: hoodie, mirrored shades, busted glow stick. Accent: really bad faux-Swedish.

I hope that clears things up. And now for the matter at hand: It's been just over a year since I took over Jeremy's blog, and I think it's time for a makeover. (For myself; not for the blog.) For starters, I'm going back to my natural hair color. I know that sounds like no big deal to you folks, but my hair has been dyed some color or other pretty much continuously since I was six years old -- not counting that unfortunate business with the Super-Stalag of Space. And now I have to do something about my facial hair. Since it was dyed to match my hair I'll have to shave it off and regrow it. Which is fine by me, since I feel like switching to a new style. And that's where you, my charming and handsome and/or beautiful friends come in! You see, I can't make up my mind! I've narrowed it down to four styles:

A. The "Doctor Strange"

B. The "Dum Dum Dugan"

C. The "Wolverine" and...

D. The "Highfather."

I need you guys to vote for which style you'd like to see me adopt. Use the handy mini-poll box located over the links section. (You can vote as many times as you want; it's cool by me.) Whichever look gets the most votes by 10 PM Central Standard Time on Monday, that's how I'll wear it for the forseeable future. Through the magic of time travel, I'll be able to show you my new look, along with a brand new costume, on Tuesday's post!

Full schedule for next week:

• Monday: Rescue Me: Bird-Man
• Tuesday: My new costume and facial hair!
• Wednesday: Rescue Me: Steeplejack
• Thursday: Time-Travel Challenge: Grunge to Rockabilly
• Friday: I present two costume redesigns to the Mighty Thor.

Have a great weekend!

Rescue Me: The Miracle Man

When the Scourge of the Underworld set out to rid the world of its criminal element, he sure picked some easy targets. Low-level bad guys like the Miracle Man were trotted out after years -- sometimes even decades -- of disuse, for the sole purpose of getting whacked before an audience of drooling fanboys. They were cannon fodder, like the stars of an Irwin Allen film. ("Look, honey! Jennifer Jones! My lands, I haven't seen her up on the big screen in -- oh, she's dead.")

Was the Miracle Man lame? I don't think he had to be. He made for a heck of a menace in "Fantastic Four" #3. Unfortunately, the big twist ending of the story required him to be a fraud. He didn't really have astounding reality-bending powers. He was just a remarkably talented mass-hypnotist. And when a story pits the Fantastic Freaking Four against a hypnotist, who do you think will win? I think that kind of ruined him for a lot of comic writers.

If you ask me, he just needed a change of venue -- from comics where the heroes save the entire planet on a monthly basis to one where they're more prone to punching out gangsters. The Miracle Man could have had a field day in that setting. With his power of instant hypnosis, which you have to admit is still damned impressive, he could have set himself up as a crime boss or a cult leader or something. He could send anybody who crossed him into a nightmare world of self-destruction ("A free corndog? For me? Thanks!" *blam!*) It worked for Doctor Psycho. And Spellbinder, on the "Batman Beyond" cartoon. I don't see why the Miracle Man couldn't have made a go of things.

And he could definitely have used a new look. That old-timey vaudeville magician get-up was looking cheesy even back in the early sixties. Here's an idea for styling the old guy:



I call this look "The Archbishop Desmond Nosferatu."

The Miracle Man was already kind of old, with a thin frame and prominent cheekbones. I figure I could have put him on a strict, Moby-esque diet, shaved him completely bald (all over), made him look even more skeletal and startling with the judicious application of makeup, and slipped him into some clerical robes. That way attention is drawn to his eyes, but he's still dressed in something mysterious and memorable -- but not so much that it takes attention away from his eyes! That's why I went with all-white. At first I thought about just putting him in a nice three-piece suit, maybe accessorize it with a cape and a sword-cane or sumpin' but it just seemed too mundane. Plus the churchy garb goes nicely with his name.

Tomorrow: a desperate plea from Blockade Boy!

Rescue Me: Lionfang

Scourge killed a lot of Marvel bad guys, probably because their costumes sucked so badly. I think I can do better.

The circumstances of Lionfang's death are pretty sketchy. He seemed to have died at the end of "Luke Cage, Power Man" #13 (September, 1973) when Power Man caused him to fall from a trapeze. Eighteen years later, in Captain America #394, Scourge claimed to have killed him. (He also got rid of that pesky John Wilkes Booth!) So if, in fact, Scourge did kill him, poor ol' Lionfang didn't even get to die on panel.

And I think that's a shame, because Lionfang had hella potential as a villain. A scientist with a helmet that allowed him to transfer the strength, agility, and ferocity of jungle cats into his own body, and to transfer human intelligence and the ability to speak into jungle cats? I'm sorry, but that's kind of awesome. Throw in the fact he was hiding out in a circus, working as a lion tamer, and you've got four-color magic. A vengeful scientist masquerading under the big top? Pure Lon Chaney. (As in "He Who Gets Slapped.") Okay, so giving him the ability to shoot lightning out of his hands was watering down the concept slightly. But on the whole, the crazy fucker could have rocked. All he needed was a little love.



I know, I promised a beard and I didn't deliver. But dig the helmet! I thought it looked better with the chin covered. There could still be a beard behind there; it's just you can't see it right now. I pared the nutty color scheme from his original outfit down to red and black. The pointy deals on the shoulderpads are antennae for sending and receiving various powers to and from his jungle cats. I put them there because they had no place on the lion-head helmet. The helmet itself? It's a little Hawkman-like. But mainly I was thinking of that one guy with the tigers from "Gladiator." Rawr! The big difference between Lionfang's helmet and Hawkman's helmet is that Lionfang is wearing a black mask under his. That way he can enjoy the "shadowed eyes" look all the time without breaking the laws of physics. The black mane on the back is attached to the helmet. I can just see Lionfang all alone in his circus wagon, late at night, fine-tuning the controls on his helmet and grooming his wig...

Next: Rescue Me: The Miracle Man!

No Super For You!

I gave Membros the day off so he could attend Antron's funeral (got burned to death by some kid with a magnifying glass). So I have to tell you myself that my "Lionfang" post will be delayed until late, late tonight. I'm still stuck in the design stage. I've been sketching and sketching. Jeremy asked me why I looked so frustrated, and I told him I couldn't come up with a costume worthy of Lionfang, and then he guffawed and said "If you can't even design a costume for a fourth-rate loser like Lionfang I think you need to just give the fuck up and get a job at McDonalds or that nine-planet ice cream shoppe you're always talking about" and I didn't like his tone at all so I grabbed his nose between my index and middle fingers and twisted it real hard until a little blood came out and that was the end of that.

So I'm gonna shoot for sometime tonight or worse-case scenario early tomorrow morning, like around one-ish. I know, I know. Sorry.

One thing I know for sure is Lionfang's gonna have a cool Abe Lincoln type beard because it's leonine. And speaking of interesting facial hair, look for something fun along those lines at the end of the week!

Rescue Me: The Cheetah

In the "Rescue Me" challenge, I pluck one of Scourge's villainous victims from the mists of obscurity and give them a hypothetical makeover. I mean, even more hypothetical than my usual makeovers, in the sense that I have a policy against helping supervillains. In this case there's no harm, since they're dead!

This time I'm making over the old Captain Marvel villain, the Cheetah. This guy had a couple of aesthetic strikes against him. Starting with the fact his name doesn't even come close to matching his appearance. Since when do cheetahs have brown fur? The guy needs a full-body dye job, but I suppose that's impractical. (And speaking of dye jobs... look for an exciting personal announcement at the end of the week!) But I'll at least give him a new villain get-up. The one he had, with the Doctor Strange-size collar? And the chest-belt, whatever the hell that thing was for? It blew. Chunks. So here's how I would have dressed him.



Since he got his powers from a Kree robot(!) I gave him a Kree-style costume to match! It's the whole "hero's opposite" thing, like Black Adam and the Reverse Flash. In this case, it means a cheetah head symbol based on Captain Marvel's star logo, a partial cowl like on one of my favorite costumes, and bikini "overwear" -- the only type of overwear I'd ever endorse. Muy macho!

Tomorrow: I continue the cat theme with Rescue Me: Lionfang!

Time-Travel Challenge: Dazzler To Flapper

With the Time-Travel Challenge, I take a comic book character who typified the trends of a particular decade, and relocate them to another era... with appropriate alterations.

Chawunky suggested I do this with 70's disco queen Dazzler; Scipio suggested I move her to the 20's and call her Flapper. Well, they really didn't have proper comic books in the 20's. But they sure as hell had comic strips!

From the book "Pioneering Women In Comic Strips" by Robbie Jerrison, published on Earth-36-24-36:

According to her friends and family, Claire Chrismont was a woman of few words. Despite -- or perhaps because of that -- her comic strip "Flapper" was a masterpiece of energy and pacing, with lean, snappy dialogue that only intruded upon the lovingly-delineated artwork when absolutely necessary.

The title character, Alison Blaire, was a shapely, roller-skating madcap with aspirations to a singing career. She was also fond of wearing spangles and sequins, which gave Chrismont the opportunity to decorate panels with dozens of "glitter lines" -- tiny starbursts which surrounded the character like a halo.

In 1926, the year of Flapper's debut, the newspapers were already filled with similar strips, such as Winnie Winkle the Breadwinner, Tillie the Toiler, Fritzi Ritz, and Mazie the Model. Where Chrismont's strip excelled, however, was in its supporting characters. While other comic strip flappers dealt with antagonists who were EITHER comic OR villainous, Alison Blaire was confronted on a daily basis by powerful oddballs who were a combination of both. And although they looked relatively normal, on an emotional level they gave the misfits of Dick Tracy's rogues gallery a run for their money.

Three of these were introduced in the strip's very first year, and they would be fixtures in "Flapper" for decades. There was Victor Von Doom, an eastern European playboy more in love with his own dueling scar than he would ever be with Alison. There was Bruce Banner, a meek, spindly radio show director with a non-verbal "split personality" that granted him the strength to overturn cars and bend lamp posts in half. And most memorably, there was the career-devouring gossip columnist Gail Atticus, whose inexplicable hatred for Alison was equalled only by her fondness for gigantic hats.

Beginning in the 30's, "Flapper" was handed off to a succession of female cartoonists, including Dee Falco, Fanny Dingeroth, and Midge Shooter, By 1958, its popularity had waned, and syndicate editors merged it with "Longshot," a dying strip about a three-fingered jockey. The new strip, Mex-Babies, found the two disparate characters running an orphanage in Tiajuana. It folded after three months.

Jeremy has the entire run of Dazzler in his collection. I'll pause here while you finish laughing. Done? Great. Anyhow, it made research a snap! As for the look, I just put her in a sparkly frock and changed the face paint to a mask-on-a-stick.

Whaddaya think?

Rescue Me: The Fly

Or "The Human Fly" as he was sometimes called. Which must have been confusing for that 70's stuntman guy with the same name and his own Marvel comic. His costume was kind of boring, that's for damn sure. But I don't agree with Marvel's decision to mutate him and make him even more insect-like, and give him a preference for eating garbage. (Like Tostitos and Ding Dongs.) I guess Marvel finally realized he was more disgusting and pathetic than menacing. And so down came the swatter.

Well, I call shenanigans. He was a powerful guy in his prime, with some pretty cool powers, like the ability to generate explosive force by "buzzing" his wings at a certain frequency. And he was strong, fast, and could stick to walls. I think he would have made a great enforcer-type character -- y'know, badass muscle hired by crime bosses to rub out their enemies. And I would have dressed him like so:



Forget the traditional costume -- with those big bug eyes and wings, he doesn't need anything else that could make him look campy. So we have green leather pants and boots and some tattoos that are based on the shape of flies' legs. I shaved his head and gave him a fu-manchu. Which is dyed black, since his natural haircolor is a strawberry blonde. It's more of a down-to-earth, rough-and-tumble look for the guy. He fought Moon Knight at one point; I think he would have been a good villain for other street-level heroes, like Daredevil or Power Man.

What do you guys think?

Rescue Me: The Hijacker

The first time I saw the Hijacker in a comic, it was in that supervillain clusterfuck from "Marvel Two-In-One" #96. I had no idea who he was. Apparently I wasn't alone, since Marvel's editors had no problem with offing his padded, gas-spewing ass. In a crowd scene, yet. At least the Bug-Eyed Bandit only had to share his last panel with Clayface II.

So what, precisely, is wrong with the Hijacker's outfit? Easy. It's boring. It's gray and boring with a stupid gasmask that makes him look like the lovechild of Roy Orbison and a baleen whale. Let's pep that shit up! At least he'll have something nice for his funeral. Assuming it's open-casket.



I knew I didn't want to keep his costume gray, but I puzzled over what color to make it. I wanted something kind of industrial or toxic, so I settled on an acid yellow. The lines and dots are circuitry built into the suit that allows him to hack into computer systems. And he has a nice big backpack - lightweight, natch - to hold his knockout gas. The logo on his chest is supposed to be a combination of an "H" and a "J" with the "J" resembling a fishhook. Although I have a feeling I didn't draw the barb on the correct side. Oh well.

Tomorrow: Rescue Me: The Human Fly!

Rescue Me: Cyclone

Booyah! Another post this morning! I now consider myself officially caught up. And if you disagree you can suck it. Oh, I'm being hostile for no good reason again. I apologize. Anyway, I've got my Hijacker design all figured out so it'll be a snap to finish it up in time for tomorrow morning. Whee!

Here's the original Cyclone costume. Try tearing your eyes away from that gigantoid symbol on his back. You are getting very sleepy... because the look is quite boring! Let's give this poor dead dope a makeover, shall we?



I like the concentric rings but not when they make a huge target shape on the back of the costume. (Honestly, he was kind of asking for it, wasn't he? What, a "Kick me" sign was too literal?) So I relocated them to the shoulders and I designed a logo with the rings nestled within a "C." And I changed the color scheme to something more interesting. Fun fact: I was sorely tempted to make the white shape on the chest and neck a skin-revealing cut-out instead but I realized I shouldn't draw every guy with a bare chest, no matter how much I want to. I have to change it up now and again. So what do y'all think?

Rescue Me: The Melter

Sorry... no "Snowbeast" post today. Or ever, probably. I realized it was too easy. So instead we have the Melter! I can't seem to find a decent image of the Melter on the web right now, so I guess we'll have to settle with me linking myself. Look in the second panel. He's the majorette of the loser parade!

So here's what I'd do:



I reduced the green and orange to spot colors and gave him a mask that covers his whole face. I figure the orange lights on the harness around the melting weapon would light up in succession from the outside in, as it powers up. As for the green lights on the arms and legs... well, I just put those in there because I thought they'd look cool and they'd be a call-back to his green pinstripe trousers. If you want a practical reason? They contain coolant. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Tonight: Rescue Me: Cyclone.
Tomorrow (morning, I hope): Rescue Me: The Hijacker!

I swear to God I'm going to get caught up on this thing.

Gender Reassignment Challenge: Phantom Lady To Phantom Lord

Welcome to another installment of the Gender Reassignment Challenge, where I take the creme de la girliest of superheroine costumes and redesign them for a male hero.

Before Teen Whore Supergirl, before Witchblade, before Power Girl's cleavage porthole, long before any of these desperate, sweaty attempts to attract male readers, there was the Phantom Lady. Her costume was flimsy enough to land her in "Seduction of the Innocent" and to be brutally honest, it made her look as though she'd been forcibly giftwrapped. So how could I interpret this ensemble for a guy? Well, here goes!



I replaced the silky "nipple tarps" (foreplay called on account of rain!) with complicated suspenders. I tried to keep the diamond shaped negative space from the old top but I added a cross-piece and brought it across the tops of his arms to emphasize his shoulders. And I gave him pants. Because he has "Lord" in his name and I can't see somebody like that gadding about in their underpants. It's the same reason I gave him the sweet-ass VanDyke. It conveys authority. And yet the spiky hair says "I'm youthful and I'm ready for adventure!" I think he has a nice Mediterranean flavor. Very Antonio Banderas.

Next: another Gender Reassignment challenge: Snowbird to Snowbeast!

Time-Travel Challenge: Cable To The Mechano-Sarge

Yikes! I'm late again. Sorry guys, but I was exhausted last night (don't ask). I'll try to get a jump on next week's posts by working ahead this weekend. I really do want to get back to posting in the mornings.

Annnyway, here's my new challenge! My idea is to take a character emblematic of a certain era and redesign them as if they'd been created in some other decade. In this case, I took Mister 90's Excess himself, Cable, and recreated him as a Golden Age hero.



Excerpted from Don Thompson's essay, "OK, Axis, Here We Come!" in "All In Color For A Dime", published in 1970 on Triple-Reverse-Counter-Earth:

The oddest character published by Atlas during World War 2 was the Mechano-Sarge -- a time-traveling amputee with a crude robotic claw in place of his left arm. Born Nathan Summers, the Mechano-Sarge was an infant Londoner orphaned and critically injured in the Blitz. A mysterious, robed figure spirited the child off to Lemuria, an other-dimensional land "apart from the strife that wracks the mortal world." In Lemuria, the physical laws we know did not apply and the air was denser than water. The strange atmosphere worked to heal and toughen the lad's body into "a brawny mountain of a man with muscles like steel cables." His rescuer was a holy man, and along with the other mystics of Lemuria, he trained the orphaned boy to perfect his mind. This resulted in some ill-defined and arbitrary psychic powers that would change with the whims of whichever writer was assigned to the feature that month. Nathan Summers might have stayed in Lemuria forever, but he was a born scrapper with a wild, boisterous personality that left him ill-suited for a life of meditation. The Lemurian holy men outfitted the now-grown Nathan with a mechanical arm and sent him back home. Since time passed more quickly in Lemuria than it did in the mortal plane, he arrived only one month after he'd left it. Once there, he donned an impractically garish military uniform of his own design, christened himself the Mechano-Sarge, and plunged into the chaos of the second World war.

The Mechano-Sarge's adventures were brutal, gory affairs, typical of the comic book fare of that time. In one outing, his power of "Astral Vision" detected an Italian saboteur on the other side of a steel door, so he used his metal claw to punch right through it and crushed the "Italio-Nazi rat's" skull like a tin can. On other occasions, the Mechano-Sarge tore his foes in half, shoved live grenades down their throats, and twisted their broken bodies into the shapes of pretzels. In his most memorable outing, he mentally commanded Mount Fuji to erupt, destroying a munitions factory (and coincidentally killing countless non-combatants).

The Mechano-Sarge's feature disappeared from "Marvel Mystery Comics" exactly one year after the close of World War 2. In this final phase of his career, the London-born hero took up residence in the United States, and fought with markedly less violence and enthusiasm against racketeers and bank robbers. In his last two stories, he was reduced to a supporting character, while the focus was shifted to an obnoxious band of urchins calling themselves "Sarge's Battlin' Orphans."

For the Mechano-Sarge version of Cable, I made his "techno-organic" left arm an old-timey robot claw. I simplified the scarring around his right eye since that nonsense wouldn't have flown back in the 40's. And he's bare-chested because:
A. It shows off the robot arm and the metal plating on his chest better.
B. It worked for Uncle Sam.
C. I love to draw muscley shirtless guys. Hey, look! A nipple!

Although I strive for practicality in most cases, I made the costume's color scheme very bright, like a typical Golden Age hero's. The 40's simplification of the costume -- those artists sometimes had to draw a whole story in the space of a weekend -- is the reason why I didn't put laces on the boots. I wanted to put myself in the frame of mind of a penciler from that period.

Next week: more art! But I haven't decided exactly what yet.

Rescue Me: Hellrazor

Ruthless. Greedy. Amoral. Tasteless. And dead! The victims of the villain-killer Scourge have many flaws. I could have helped them with that fourth one.

Hellrazor (first appearance: Marvel Team-Up #87, November 1979) had a very 90's name and powers (he shot razors at people) but a very 70's look. He's dressed for the ballet adaptation of a Gor novel! I just can't say it enough: What the hell?!! Still, the combination of the Ye Olde Renaissance Faire look and the name "Hellrazor" intrigued me. So here's how I would have costumed him:



Just wristbands? Screw that shit! I say, "armor the fucker up!" So we have a plate armor suit with a Dark Ages twist -- devil helmet, boots that look like animal feet, and claws on the gauntlets. And then I added a hooded tunic to bring it all home. Y'know, I really wanted to go buck wild with the horns -- make them gigantoid and majestic, but they would have made the hood unwearable and also it would have been one more thing for a good guy to grab 'hold of whilst punching Hellrazor in the face. I like the way it turned out, though.

Next: Who is the Mechano-Sarge, and how does he help me usher in a new challenge?

Gender Reassignment Challenge: Black Canary To Black Eagle

In the Gender Reassignment Challenge, I take a superheroine with a very feminine look, and I redesign the costume for a male hero. My goal is to use as many elements of the original costume as possible without the hero looking like a man in woman's clothing. With fashion, the lines between "masculine" and "feminine" can be whisper-thin -- remember George Costanza and his Gloria Vanderbilt eyeglasses?

I've gotten a lot of requests to do a male version of Black Canary. She's a tough one, alright. Probably because she looks like a cocktail waitress. The bustier, the tight little jacket, those darned fishnet stockings--! It's a real puzzler. A few months ago, I did some sketches of a Man-Canary (and no, Scipio, I'm not calling him that!) but I never could come up with anything I liked. The closest was this godawful baggy hip-hop outfit with a lot of mesh. It sucked. And it would be a total cop-out for me to just draw a guy in a tuxedo. But I think I came up with a decent -- and very modern -- solution.



Here's a guy I call the Black Eagle. 'Cause that sounds manlier than "Canary." He's dressed like a pro wrestler. The jacket, trunks, and boots are all leather. (Down, boys.) I figure Stone Cold Steve Austin could get away with wearing black leather trunks out in public, so why not this guy? I approximated the shape of the Canary's bustier with an eagle tattoo. I also used tattoos in place of the fishnet. It's criss-crossing lines of barbed wire. Badass, am I right? I even kept the long blonde hair from the female version, only now it completes the look of a big, strapping Nordic dude. Lotta Viking blood in there.

Next: a "Rescue Me" design for Hellrazor!

Rescue Me: Megatak

Megatak, a.k.a. Gregory Nettles (one of the most delicate, hand-milled English soap-sounding names for a bad guy I've ever heard) was an industrial spy who got "electro-kinetic" powers during a botched theft at a trade show. He was costumed as 1983's hottest new video game character, Megatak (by "Nogari") and the accident had the side-effect of driving him bonkers and making him think he was the character. This was a Doug Moench plot. And if you remember my Zaniac post, then you know it's not the first time he's used it. As Megatak, Gregory could absorb electricity and use it to create "electro-magnetic constructs" -- favoring video game characters as his models. The constructs could then discharge energy, blasting all who opposed them. He showed up in Thor twice, about a hundred issues apart. And in his second appearance, Scourge killed him.

When Marvel's editors were drawing up their list of bad guys to unceremoniously frag, Megatak's name was probably the first one on there. And it was probably scrawled in huge cursive letters with a lot of flourishes, like John Hancock's signature. While I don't agree with their decision, I'll admit there were some serious strikes against the poor dope:
1. A stupid name that tells me absolutely nothing about what he does. Before I did any research on him, I assumed he was some sort of giant robot.
2. A goofy costume. Take a look.
3. A sorely overpowered opponent. That's the part that most baffles me. Who the hell creates a villain with electrical powers and then pits him against The Mighty Thor? I could see him faring better against Power Man and Iron Fist, but as a Thor villain? Come freakin' on. And now for the stinger (if you haven't read the link I'm cribbing this from): Megatak was getting his balls handed to him by Sif at first, but then Thor showed up and asked her if he could wail on Megatak for a while and Sif was all like, "Whatever. Go for it."

But I don't think Megatak was necessarily lame. I think he was just in the wrong comic at the wrong time. Especially with that second comic. Ouch! Here's how I would have handled him:



I think Megatak would have made a fun, weird villain against one of Marvel's wisecracking heroes, like Spider-Man or She-Hulk. The fact he can bring video game characters to life makes him a contemporary version of the Golden Age Superman baddie, Funnyface (who did the same thing with thinly-disguised versions of famous comic strip characters). I like the visual contrast between 8-bit, 2-D graphics and a more realistically drawn human character. I don't see why Megatak couldn't have created electro-magnetic versions of video game weapons, either. I think that would have looked cool. And the best part is, Metatak could still work today! Especially if you ditched the insanity part and just made him a retro-gamer who was into the old Atari 2600-era stuff. He could still be an industrial spy or hacker or what-have-you. And can't you just see him conjuring up a giant version of the Atari 2600 Pac-Man, all flickery and lame with the busted doorbell sound effects (*TONK, TONK-TONK*) and then it bites your arm off.

I tried to make my Megatak design work as an actual costume but I think it looks better as gussied-up street clothes. The mask is sort-of aviator goggles, with rectangular lenses. His hair stands straight up from the static he absorbs. And the logo is a giant M with a monster face on it. Kind of like Space Invaders but without the antennae.

Next: Gender-Reversed Black Canary! (You asked for it...)

Rescue Me: The Basilisk

Here's the Basilisk in "Fantastic Four" #289 (April 1986) and it's the first time I ever saw him. I thought, "Hey, this guy's kinda cool!" And on the next page, Scourge blasted him through a window on one of the higher floors of Four Freedoms Plaza.

Apparently a lot of people -- or a very small group of people with great influence-- thought it wasn't worthwhile to keep the Basilisk around. I'm not sure I understand why. According to Wikipedia, the Basilisk had superhuman strength, stamina, and reflexes, and could project beams of intense heat, cold, and force from his eyes. He could fly. Hell, he created a volcano in the Hudson River! Seems like a decent enough supervillain to me.

I can only think of a few things wrong with the Basilisk, from what I've read:
1. His real name: Basil Elks. Pure comic book, that, but it plays better in DC comics instead of the arguably more realistic Marvel Universe where the names are mainly alliterative. You don't generally get a lot of characters walking around with civilian names like Hugh Mantorge or Will Verene.
2. His powers, at first glance, seem generic. What's worse, he got them (in an accident, natch, this being Marvel) from a Kree gemstone. And then he boosted them by using a second Kree gemstone. Criminy. First Moonstone, then this guy. I don't know what the problem is with the Kree that they can't keep their power-bestowing gemstones on their own freaking planet. That shit's like the Marvel version of Kryptonite. But don't forget he's got the eyebeam gimmick, people! And he's called the Basilisk! That's his hook!
3. His costume, which features the World's Largest Ascot. Thurston Howell III only dreams of owning an ascot like that. But the costume is not a huge obstacle. I could have fixed it. Behold!



Keep on truckin', Basilisk! In some legends, the basilisk has yellow scales. So for the Marvel capital-B Basilisk I designed a golden/bronze-y glam rock armor for him. Dig the KISS boots. Since he's green and scaly, I wanted to show off a lot of his actual skin. That's why I didn't give him a helmet or cover up his shoulders. Also, you may notice that I didn't draw in any nipples. That's because, since he's reptilian, I figure he wouldn't have any nipples. Nice, huh? It's a real win-win situation, since I enjoy drawing topless males, and a lot of my readers hate seeing (male) nipples.

Tomorrow: Megatak!

Rescue Me: The Vamp

She's fifty and fabulous! Isn't it great how Gramma can still fit into the slacks she wore in 1968? And I think the facelift is settling quite nicely. I'm sorry, but when I hear the name "Vamp" I don't think of somebody who looks like this. Like a swashbuckling Gibson Girl with Leonard Nimoy's face. Also? Brainiac 5 called; he wants his belt back.

The Vamp was an agent for a criminal organization called "The Corporation." (Insert Enron joke here.) They cave her the power to transform into the Animus, a frankly awesome-looking creature that was a goggle-eyed, big-brained future guy crossed with a brawny caveman, dressed in animal skins and wielding a ginormous crystal club. The Animus rocked. The Vamp? Not so much. Although she did manage to infiltrate America's top security agency. S.H.I.E.L.D. even gave her that belt, whch somehow allowed her to absorb any foe's powers and skills. Anyway, long story short, the Vamp eventually got killed in that "bar with no name" massacre that Scourge pulled off, and then somebody cloned her, and then the clone got killed. There's more to it than that, of course, and it involves Typhoid Mary and Deadpool, but I really don't have the time or interest to go into it.

So, how would I have dressed the Vamp, if I'd had my 'druthers? Like so.



I wanted to incorporate the style of a silent-era, honest-to-goodness VAMP into her costume, since that actually makes sense. So I used Art Nouveau/Japanese sinuous iconography on the bodysuit. Where's the belt, you ask? Good question. I really wanted to use the twisting snake thing, and the belt -- or any belt, really -- didn't look too good in conjunction with it. So instead I miniaturized the technology and put it in that flower on her waist. It's supposed to look raised, like it's a brooch or sumpin' but that part didn't turn out too good. Ah, well. I also did some sketches where her hair was pulled back (too severe and/or dowdy, even if done in an Oriental way) or in a wavy bob (made her look too much like Lady Viper) or a straight bob (very Louise Brooks but I personally don't think it's very sexy). I like the long, wavy look, like Theda Bara wore as Cleopatra. And I figure Black Canary can do martial arts with long hair, so the Vamp wouldn't have any problem either.

But what do you guys think?

Moral Realignment Challenge: Green Arrow And Clock King

Jeremy finally consented to let me have my own Flikr account, so everything's a go!



Look out! Green Arrow's got a Mulling It Over arrow! Hmmmm...

Maybe that joke was lame, but it's not nearly as lame as Clock King's costume. He's dressed for scuba diving, for Chrissake! There's nothing intimidating about him at all, other than the fact you can't see his face, and the notion that he's so batshit crazy that he thought that costume was a good idea. Does he need a costume redesign? But of course. But he's a bad guy, so I could only live with myself if I did it hypothetically. Unlike my other costume designs, which really happened. So let's put him and that dirty hippie Green Arrow in the Moral Realignment Challenge! That's the one where I switch the roles of a hero and a villain and imagine how they might have appeared in the world of comics.

Let's go!

Excerpted from the essay "Changing Times: Clock King In The 60's" from "Alter Ego" #38 (2004) published on Earth-P:



"...and most notably, bringing in leggy France Nguyen to replace Barbara Eden in the role of the Black Canary. But even these tweaks couldn't increase the show's popularity with a viewing public that had grown tired of camp -- and only halfway through its fourth season, the 'Clock King' television program was canceled.

The Mechanically-Minded Marvel continued to enjoy success in his original medium of comics. By 1968, Clock King was featured in five monthly DC publications. In addition to 'Clock King' and 'Inventive Comics', he was a member in good standing of 'The Six Scouts Of Triumph' and enjoyed team-ups with Calendar Man in 'All-Time Finest Comics' and with a rotating slate of guest-stars in a former Western title, 'The Big Hand And The Little Hand.'

Still, the swift demise of Clock King's TV show weighed heavily on the minds of DC staffers. For years, they had intentionally mimicked the program's light, comedic tone in their comics. Now, they worried that the comic book audience was going to turn on the character just as the television audience had done. In a weekend-long brainstorming session, plans were laid out to dramatically overhaul the character. Familiar gimmicks such as his boxing glove cuckoo clock and his sundial hover-discs were scrapped. Stories would return Clock King to his pulp-era roots, placing a much stronger emphasis on his detective skills, and reestablishing his personality as a curmudgeonly genius with an obsession for order and logic.* To signal Clock King's new direction, he was given a visual makeover courtesy of superstar artist Neal Adams. Adams discarded many of the lingering Golden Age elements of the costume, including the trunks, the enormous sash, the large 'K' on his chest, and even his crown! Clock King's new look featured Roman numerals, sleeker boots and gloves, a new cape inspired by the Elizabethan era, and -- quite startling for the time -- a fanciful, three-pronged beard. The beard, while undoubtedly quite regal, was also a blatant marketing ploy by DC to appeal to the college-age market. Although the letter columns were beset by angry fans demanding to know how Clock King could wear such distinctive facial hair in both his superheroic and civilian identities without anyone noticing, DC's editors refused to address the issue. Within a year, most readers seemed to have accepted the situation, perhaps chalking it up to 'the magic of comics.'



DC launched Clock King in his 'Startling New Direction' (as the cover blurbs on his comics phrased it) with 'Inventive Comics' #381 (October, 1968). The classic story pitted him against one of the most lurid foes of the hero's early days.

The Green Arrow was a ghastly, violent figure, and had appeared in comics only once before. As told in "Inventive Comics" #30 (August, 1939), the Green Arrow was originally a mortal man named Oliver Queen. Queen, a dashing but arrogant sportsman, knowingly trespassed on a sacred Native American burial ground while bow-hunting and was cursed by a 'savage witch-doctor.' The archer was struck dead on the spot, only to be resurrected as a zombie-like killing machine who would systematically murder nearly every member of his family. The gruesome tale concluded with Clock King crushing the monster within the workings of a printing press.

The 1968 story, with a script by Bob Haney and artwork by Adams, reintroduced Oliver Queen as a corrupt millionaire who had dropped dead of a heart attack while lobbying to dump chemical waste in a reservation. Reanimated by his own bigotry, the new version of Green Arrow embarked on a killing spree of every Native American who had ever opposed his business interests, framing a handsome young activist for the crimes. Clock King cleared the man's name, punched a rabid coyote in the face, crushed the Green Arrow's living corpse beneath a totem pole, delivered a stirring speech on tolerance and jumped over a gorge in a souped-up dune buggy.

*The quirkier, more fairy-tale aspect of Clock King would not be seen again until 2002, when his two surviving comics were helmed by Grant Morrison and Neal Gaiman.

...Yes, my Clock King redesign is very "Royal Flush Gang" but I can't help it; I just love their look so much! The same goes for Jack Of Hearts. I originally was going to put clock hands on his chest but it looked too busy. And the beard, for me, was the icing on the cake. Green Arrow's beard comes to two points? Clock King's comes to three! Take that, hippie! As for Green Arrow himself, I thought about going the right-wing paramilitary route with him or making him a Manson-type hippie cult leader. But I didn't want to make him look too similar to Evil Flash. And then I hit on the Solomon Grundy riff and everything clicked. The Silver Age costume for Clock King, by the way? I don't honestly think it looks good. (Trunks over tights? *shudder*) I just wanted to show what he might have looked like as an old-fashioned hero.

Rescue Me: Mirage

Mirage: smarmy, boastful, a piss-poor tactician, just won't shut the hell up, plus he has handles on the sides of his head. It's no wonder Scourge wanted him dead! Of course, if Mirage had bothered to consult me about his sartorial decisions, he might still be alive today. (It's ain't braggin' if it's true.)

That's his second comic book appearance up there. His first was in a Spider-Man comic, and his scheme back then was to rob a wedding. Is that -- why would he -- I mean, does that even happen? I guess there's be a lot of swag there, but there's also like two hundred witnesses. Imagine getting your ass kicked by the groom's beefy, truck-driving aunt. I dunno. Anyway, the whole thing sounds like a Gerry Conway plot if ever I heard one. But it's actually one of Len Wein's. Mirage got crushed by a chandelier at the end of it. But he rallied for that "Marvel Two-In-One" cameo where he got clobbered by Daredevil. His third appearance was in "Captain America" where Scourge shot him to death. The end!

Okay! Without further ado, here's how I would have dressed Mirage. If he'd asked me to dress him.



Ooh! Mysterious. No, it's not Captain Universe, The Hero Who Could Be You But Let's Be Honest Honey That's Never Going To Happen. It's Mirage, in my ethereal new costume for him! Because of the codename and the theme (holographic impersonation) I went more poetic and arty this time. It's very Neal Gaiman. And very plain old-fashioned gay. It's even gayer than my Black Condor design, which doesn't even seem possible to me but there you go. Like it or lump it.

The colors are pale because when I think of a mirage, I think of illusory water shimmering against a blue desert sky. And it's more ghostly. If he'd had the common sense to keep the damned image inducer activated most of the time, then this would have been a very dramatic, alien look that a hero would have glimpsed only briefly before Mirage slipped around a corner or into the back of a limo. The cowl includes an immobile, sculpted face mask. With big, big Silver Surfer eyes. (Mysterious!) And I carried over the stripe and diamond motifs, but I think I used them in a more restrained and interesting way than he did.

In other news, I really struggled with the Clock King/Green Arrow deal but I finally conquered the conceptual part of it and now I just have to draw the dang thing. Oh, and I found a picture of Megatak online and holy cats is that ever an awful costume! I must help him!

Rescue Me: Shellshock

Here's the second beneficiary of my new plan to redesign the costumes of anyone Scouge has ever killed, or tried to kill: Shellshock! Okay, maybe "beneficiary" is overstating things, since Shellshock is dead. And rotting!

Did you know... Shellshock was created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby? I shit you not. I read it on the internet; therefore it must be true. It turns out he first appeared in "Fantastic Four Annual" #5, back in 1967. He was one of Psycho-Man's henchmen! Only he didn't have this particular costume. In fact, he looked a lot like the Mad Thinker, only in red instead of in green. And his gun was much cooler. Because it was designed by Jack Kirby. Anyway, Shellshock showed up in the above panels from "Marvel Two-In-One" all gussied up for the very first time in a boring new costume and a mask that had no discernable connection to his theme and wielding a convoluted new weapon that looked like a very uncomfortable fusion of a sex toy and a gardening implement. ("The Ass Weasel! By Ronco!") And in his next appearance, Scourge killed him.

Here's the deal: I think Shellshock could have worked as a bad guy. His codename is catchy. And his basic concept is workable: criminal strategist and electronics genius. I think all he was missing was a great costume! With a snappy costume, you're a supervillain that readers want to see again. Without it, you're a supervillain that editors want to see dead. So here's what I would have done:



Shellshock uses a concussive weapon that can blast through walls. So I based Shellshock's outfit on riot gear, since it's meant to resist flying rubble. There's a lot of bulk to it. In addition to the padding on the shoulders and the chest, the costume features thick gloves and protection for the knees and shins, plus a great number of sweatsocks in the crotch (kidding). I kept the color scheme the same as his most recent costume. Navy and yellow is a striking, masculine combination. In place of that stupid catfish mask or whatever the hell it was supposed to be, I gave Shellshock a close-fitting helmet. The shape of the tinted visor is based on the silhouette of the old mask. It's an interesting shape, but by flattening it and making it smaller, I lessen its visual signifigance. On the old costume, it was the first thing a person's eyes went to, and it made no sense whatsoever. Now it's part of an ensemble. In case you're wondering, the strap on Shellshock's left thigh is part of the holster for his gun. See, I don't just throw around straps for no reason, Rob Liefeld. I decided to simplify the gun itself and just give it a "tuning fork" theme. It's still red, for contrast. And I put a matching spot of red on Shellshock's chest with the grenade symbol. This keeps the color of the gun from looking so random.

Any more Scourge victims you'd like me to redesign? I'm makin' a list!

Moral Realignment Challenge: The Flash And Murmur

How might Wally "The Flash" West look if he was a villain? And how might Murmur look if he was a hero? Let's see!



Excerpt from "DC Nation" in the back of all DC comics with a cover date of August 2006, on Earth-Bajillion:

"With the Trickster's heroic sacrifice in the pages of CRITICAL INFINITY, his legacy is in the hands of his mute former sidekick, MURMUR. But the grim, daring acrobat is about to find out that for every legacy hero, there's a legacy villain! And there's none deadlier than the new Flash! Bigger -- and faster -- than his late namesake, this Flash is a brutal drug lord who's determined to rule Peripheral City. Is Murmur agile enough to defeat the fastest thug alive? Or will he end up as a stain on Flash's boots? Geoff Johns and Cully Hamner provide the answer in the pages of MURMUR.

...Fun fact: I almost gave Evil Flash a beer belly. Thank God I came to my senses.

I already knew I wanted to make Good Murmur a motley-clad hero, because Evil Murmur wears a jester outfit already (only it's black leather bondage *yawn* gear). I got rid of the stupid facemask because I've always freaking hated it. It just bugs the shit out of me. Simple as that. So instead I carried the clown motif through with a pale face and with dyed hair that is arranged to looks a bit like a jester's cap -- not completely, since I didn't want him to look like Sideshow Bob, but enough to convey the idea. When he's still, it would be lank and a few locks would hang over his face. I also figure that as part of his gimmick, Murmur would have a morose demeanor and never smile. Which makes total sense since he's a Geoff Johns character, and therefore has nothing to smile about.

I designed Evil Flash to be a stark visual contrast with Good Murmur. Good Murmur wears a costume, so Evil Flash wears street clothes. Good Murmur is kinda slim, so Evil Flash is brawny. And (although you can't really see it here) Good Murmur never smiles, so Evil Flash always smiles. Which is kinda creepy.

And again, no, that's not me as "Evil Flash."

Questions? Comments?

Coming Attractions

I'm on a bit of an artistic tear, which means that posting may happen in the evenings but it will still be daily, Monday through Friday. (And I'm trying to get back on track for morning posting but it might take some time. Please, bear with me). And the really good news (I think) is that it'll be all-artwork for awhile. Here's what you can expect this week:

Tonight: Moral Reversal: The Flash And Murmur
Tuesday: Rescue Me: Shellshock
Wednesday: Rescue Me: Mirage
Thursday: Moral Reversal: Green Lantern And Clock King
Friday: Rescue Me: The Vamp

And keep those ideas coming! You guys are positively inspirational!