Saturday, April 01, 2006

Purple And Orange Make Lame: Blockade Boy

god I am beautiful

Hello, fashion lovers! Look who got himself a time bubble and a degree in computer hackery! That's absolutely correct... it's me, Storm Boy! You may remember me from Adventure Comics #301, when I tried out for the Legion of Super-Heroes. It, um, didn't go so well.

bastards

Oh. MY God. Would you look at my hair? What was I thinking? So yeah, I wasn't allowed entry into their little club, just because I have no natural super-powers. So? B.F.D., Cosmic Boy. (Prick.) I'd invented a machine that allows me to control the very elements themselves but NO, they keep me out and let Bouncing Boy waddle right in. Jerks. Not that I'm still holding a grudge or anything. Anyhow? The whole incident led me to two big decisions: ONE, to devote myself full-time to my first love: EYEGLASS FRAME design! And TWO: to stop bothering with exercise, which freed up more time for eating space donuts.

So then? Some jackass goes and invents anti-gravity lenses, making eyeglass frames obsolete. I'm at my wits end! UNTIL I happen to spot something totally fascinating in the historical archives of the super-hero exhibit in the Space Museum. The following is a panel from the illustrated biography of 20th century hero Mister Terrific, from volume 19 of "Sensation Comics" (July 1943), in the chapter titled "Party Crasher From The Year 3000."

what the hell

Okay. Even with the primitive coloring techniques? I'd recognize that dye job ANYWHERE. See, this guy I know, a pompous hairball with rage issues, calling himself "Blockade Boy," had disappeared about a year ago and nobody knew where he'd gone. Or cared! Heh. Turns out he'd swiped a Legion time bubble and was traipsing around the multiverse. Well, anything he can design, I can design better. So I invented a device to make myself invisible to Legion security measures, snuck into their dopey clubhouse, slipped behind the controls of a time bubble and HERE I AM!

It turns out a lot of super-folk need my fashion advice, DESPERATELY. And nobody moreso than the guy who begged me for an honest critique of his deep-kissing technique, and then got all pissy and insulted my eyeglasses when I gave him an honest answer. That would be History's Greatest Monster: Blockade Boy. Here we go!

What's his deal:
Blockade Boy is a hulking, square-headed dickweed with gross curly hair on his shoulders and no fashion sense whatsoever. His super-power is nominally the ability to turn into a person-sized steel wall. But if you ask me, his real power is throwing temper tantrums and acting like he's better than everyone else.

Crimes against fashion:

dickweed

Blockade Boy has a lot of costumes, all of them hideous, but this is his favorite and, coincidentally? The absolute WORST. There's the garish color scheme, the completely pointless "forearm pads" (although he DOES like to get down on all fours, if you know what I mean and I think you do) and the ear warmers. Really, the whole shebang is just a mess.

Our meeting:
The first time I met Blockade Boy was at a fashion show on Mars, sponsered by socialite whore Paris Spiffany. It was standing-room only and we were squeezed right next to each other. We wound up talking, making fun of all the haute couture abortions sashaying down the runway, and I honestly thought he was kind of funny, even if his breath was ripe. I bumped into him later at one of Element Lad's rave parties and Blockade Boy was wearing this kind of see-through tank top which did him no favors if you ask me. I mean, for the love of GOD, man, get yourself some electrolysis! But I was pretty drunk and so was he and the very next thing I know we're making out behind the abandoned android factory in the bad section of town and he gets all mushy and practically sobbing, saying shit like "I just want to please you! If there's anything I'm doing wrong, please tell me!" And like an idiot, I do tell him. In the nicest possible may, mind you, but I had to do something. It was like being french-kissed by a lamprey eel. Seriously. It was just.. ew. Ugh. I hate even thinking about it. And then he gets all indignant and says "Well, your glasses look stupid!" And I'm thinking, "What are you, five?" What the hell EVER, Blockade Boy.

I haven't met him since I got my time bubble, but I've prepared some great new costume designs for him, just in case. It's not for him so much as it is for the general public. Nobody should have to see the crap he likes to wear.

My presentation:
If we meet, I'll say something like this: Blockade Boy, we should let by-gones be by-gones. As a peace offering, here are some costume designs you should really think about wearing.

forte boy

The first is a nice, simple, classic outfit. Nothing fancy. Not a lot of trim. It has the standard features: heavily insulated diapers, shoulder ruffles and a bubble helmet. Y'know. Business casual. I know how much you're attached to purple and orange, so I kept the color scheme but I muted it somewhat because it's frankly horrid the way it is now. No offense. There's your name right on the front and a little picture of a steel wall. And yes, I suppose it's very reminiscent of designers like Plastino, Papp, and Forte, but that's what makes it so timeless. The next look is very fashion-forward.

cockrum boy

Now, this is the latest look where we come from. I saw designs like this at a runway show by Cockrum & Grell. It has a castle motif on the collar and the beltless buckle. (You'll be all set for your hot date with Grimbor the Chainsman!) I think the green will better complement your "natural" red hair *snicker* and it shows a lot of skin, so, y'know. Sex appeal. One thing, you'll have to shave that sheepskin rug you call your chest hair for the whole thing to really work. But it'll be worth it, believe me. Your current goatee is pretty sweet, but the new thing is to grow it longer, let the ends fork, and add a big handlebar moustache. It's quite simply luscious. Not as nice as my fearsome fu-manchu. But still.

Blockade Boy's response:
Who knows, but I can't wait to find out! Hmm. Maybe he'll notice I hacked onto his website and he'll post something. Here's hoping!

Friday, March 31, 2006

Hat Out Of Hell

Say what you will about Maximus the Mad. Sure, he drugged his entire family with "hypno-potions" and he tried to destroy the Earth with meteors. But the man certainly has a flair for choosing a chapeau.

I want you

"I WANT YOU! To pull my finger!" Here, Maximus has found just the right cap to compliment his jogging suit. Modest but not meek, this sporty little number is trimmed in real gold and, apparently, keeps his Rastafarian dreads in check.

You kidding me

Yeah, I had the exact same expression when a really bitchy salesgirl at a Coast City boutique told me my knit cap made my head look like an acorn. Anyway. That's one magnificent hat. The effect is dampened somewhat when you realize that you can see his hair through it, and that he has the exact same haircut as one of the Three Stooges. But still. It's so sleek. I bet it picks up satellite radio signals. And it toasts an English muffin to perfection. It looks like Darth Vader's spaceship. Only cooler. AND, if you look at it just right, pretending the spot where Maxiumus' face pokes through is a mouth, and the three holes just above that are two eyes and a nose? It looks like the head of Ultron's dog.

But nothing -- and I do mean nothing -- can eclipse the sheer grandeur of this hat:

dear god

Dear sweet Lord in Heaven above! It's glorious! I think I could live quite comfortably inside Maximus' hat. In fact, I think I ought to start a charity, building replicas of it for low-income families. "Maxiumus' Hat For Humanity." It would help make up a little for all the times Maximus has tried to eradicate all mankind (and he's tried it a lot.)

Fun fact: on Orando this is considered a "beanie."

Thursday, March 30, 2006

Nick Fury, Agent Of F.A.B.U.L.O.U.S.

Daredevil 260

I hope Ammo's almost done beating the everloving crap out of Daredevil, because he only has two minutes to get back on stage for the finale of "The Lion King."

A few notes:

1. It's hard to tell in this scan, but Ammo is wearing those Mister T feather earrings.
2. Also, he has a rat tail. (Of hair! Of hair!)
3. Forget Daredevil, somebody call P.E.T.A. on this guy! Because I'm fairly sure his Danskins are made of endangered white tiger fur.
4. Yeah, he looks goofy to you now. But if Grant Morrison had designed this guy for his Doom Patrol comic (and he's not too far off from Grant's old sketches -- just add a tri-corner hat and a hula skirt) he'd be a fondly remembered character. There might even be a legion of fanboys calling for his return, and they'd operate under the title B.L.A.H. (Bring Loveable Ammo Hereabouts.)

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Nuclear Bedhead

binary hair

See what happens when you forget to wear sunblock? I bet that smarts like the dickens!

But I kid. Because I love! To hate! This is "Binary," a.k.a. one of the many ways Ms. Marvel got totally jacked up by Chris Claremont (one of the most creatively bankrupt authors in comics but I shan't go into that here.) Sure, those energy spikes look very "rad" and "groovy" and "the bee's knees" and whatever else you 20th/21st century types say about edgy fashion. But they clash with the sleek sluttiness -- er, sexiness that is -- of her white super-togs. My prescription? A perm!

roxy perm

There we go!

Y'know, I'm suddenly hungry for macaroni and cheese, and I don't know why.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Bland Sabbath

snakeskin blouse

From "Defenders" #96 (Marvel, June 1981), this is Asmodeus Jones, whose real name is "Ozzie Palmer." I wonder who he's based on. No, don't tell me. Jackson Brown, maybe? Kidding! I know it's really Christopher Cross. Anyway, nothing oozes "Satanic" like a billowing, scale-spangled blouse with attached hotpants. And lots of shiny gold bracelets! Nice gams, though.

The comic book gets more deeply mired in fashion stupidity later on with this scene:

modest orgy

Nameless Satanic Handmaiden #3's use of the word "kinky" makes it abundantly clear that an orgy had just taken place, and that it was quite the depraved social affair. But look more closely at Asmodeus. Sure, the robe opens at the front for easy access, but underneath he's still wearing a shirt and pants. Still doubting me? Check out the next panel:

3 piece suit

And the other guy was wearing a business suit! Anyhow, like all rock 'n' roll sex gods, Asmodeus Jones likes to cavort with groupies while wearing sensible slacks and a dress shirt -- buttoned almost to the neck and with the sleeves rolled down, of course. What kind of "kinky" activities took place at this orgy, anyway? "Spin the bottle?" Did they play four-letter Scrabble? Or have a very sensual taffy pull? C'mon, Asmodeus, you can tell me. Spill it, brother!

stare

Er... yeah. Okay. You can stop staring into my very soul now, thank you very much. Gah! I feel like I need to take a shower now. In Lysol. And then dry myself off with a Swiffer.

A couple of notes, before I go and do that:
1. I'd love it if Marvel brought this guy back, older and more rickety with a wife and a couple of rowdy teenage kids, like that guy on that cable reality show... Hulk Hogan.
2. This issue was drawn by Don Perlin, who was like the Curt Swan of Marvel in terms of artistic sensibility and hell, age too, for all I know. Asking Don Perlin to depict the daily life of a heavy metal singer is like asking Jim Balent to draw a biography of Eleanor Roosevelt. You're just not going to get the desired results.
3. Yup, Doctor Strange was there, in invisible astral form. He just likes to watch.

Monday, March 27, 2006

And His Junk Is Composed Of A Series Of Ones And Zeroes

Golden Age villain "the Thinker" used to be a chubbier version of Gale Gordon from The Lucy Show with a "thinking cap" that was essentially an inverted colander with some buttons and wires on it. Observe:

original flavor

He's dead now. And yet he still exists, kind of, as a free-roaming, evil computer consciousness with the ability to manifest a hologram body. That's one way to lose those unwanted pounds.

new style

Here are just a few of the advantages of the Thinker's new digital bod:

1. His nipples have a resolution of 2560 x 1600 for a crisp, lifelike appearance.
2. His bellybutton is a functioning USB port.
3. You can illegally download current box office smash films straight from his sinuses. But they're all in some weird foreign language you don't understand. Because he's evil.
4. Each toenail has its own ringtone.
5. He belches real-time stock quotes.
6. He poops your horoscope.
7. He can block all spam e-mails just by making the "talk to the hand" gesture. And his liver is a firewall.
8. His white blood cells look exactly like Ms. Pac-Man.
9. Through methods too complicated to explain here, he's currently draining the life force from Lindsay Lohan. Seriously. I mean, have you seen her lately? 'Cause DAMN.
10. He can yank it with a top speed of 2.16 GHz.

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Bonus Post: He-Looker, Now With Less Yokel

The fellow I drew wearing a male version of Looker's costume came out a bit too "Woody from 'Cheers'" but I figured he'd do. Inspired by some comments in that post, I played around with the face, making it less lean and long and making the eyes look more "Yeah, you know you want me" and less "Y'know, I could really go for some mashed puh-taters." But now he seems kind of insane. I dunno. What do you think? Oh, and I finally decided on a name for him. (Thanks for the suggestions, guys!)

Presenting: Adonis!

adonis