Cerebus #1

This is the Biweekly version of Cerebus because I do not have access to what you humans call "money."

When I first encountered Cerebus, I must have been twelve or thirteen years old. It was probably 1984, possibly 1985. I had just purchased the Elfquest Role Playing Game and my mom was driving us home as I eagerly dove into it. I had only been reading Elfquest via the collected color editions even though a kid in my 6th grade class had mentioned to me that the series came out in black and white issues every few months. I probably didn't really believe him at the time because I rarely believed anything anybody told me if I didn't already know it. How I learned anything at all, I'll never know. Unless maybe I haven't learned anything? Anyway, as I perused the gaming book, I noticed a picture of Rayek speaking with Ekuar. What the hell? Rayek was dead, wasn't he?! What is this? Suddenly there were pictures of other elves I didn't recognize, elves in furs riding elk. "Oh my God! Those are the elves at the end of Elfquest Book Three!" I somehow didn't say out loud, completely boring my mother with my passion for all things elves. I was seeing spoilers! I shut the book, turned to my mother, and said, "We have to go to a comic book shop!" I don't remember if I already knew about Brian's Books on Calabazas Boulevard or if we looked it up in a phone book. I feel like we immediately went there because we were on El Camino already. Just trust me about the geography; it all works out! I could go into deeper details but I'm no Alan Moore or James Joyce. I'm not going to write a book that describes my hometown so well that any casual reader could suddenly find their way around the place.

Brian's Books was my first real comic book shop. I had been reading other comic books picked up, half bent over, from the racks at the local 7-Eleven. But learning about Brian's Books changed that. Never again would I own a creased comic book! I went there to pick up the single issues of Elfquest that Dan assured me existed. One full shelf at Brian's Books was dedicated to Elfquest. He had copies (mostly reprints, probably) of many of the nearly twenty issues (I don't think the entire story had been completed at the time. But it was close!). Directly across the aisle from the Elfquest books was a number of shelves full of a comic book with a funny looking aardvark wearing a helmet and wielding a sword. I was instantly intrigued.

But I never picked it up. At the time, I had a weird thing about adults knowing I was reading things that were kind of adult. I guess I was embarrassed for some reason. Maybe I thought I'd get teased. It was like that with Piers Anthony's Incarnation of Immortality series. I felt odd picking that up, as if I were trying to get away with being cheeky or naughty. Cerebus looked adult in that way that would embarrass me if my mom saw me buying it. So I didn't pick it up. Also, it was well into its 60th, 70th, or 80th issue (I don't remember exactly but it was pretty high up there already. I suppose it was being published for about 8 years by then with a year or two of those being bimonthly? So maybe around 80 or 90?). To me, all comic books were one continuous story. It was inconceivable to begin reading that far into the story. Not that I would have tried anyway; did you see that cover with that buxom woman in the chain mail bikini?! My mom would definitely ask me embarrassing questions!

Several years later, at a different comic book shop in Saratoga (possibly one of the ones I was picking up Magic the Gathering cards at), I saw Swords of Cerebus. It was Cerebus but collected in one book and starting at the beginning! And I had stopped caring what mother thought about what I was reading! I believe I purchased the first three Swords of Cerebus collections and fell in love with it. It was hilarious and fun and it was spoofing Conan, books which I had been reading without fear of embarrassment for years. Probably because the covers had skeletons and fighting on the cover and not Conan ravishing topless women.

Begin Digression: I got into He-Man and the Masters of the Universe because I saw a Skeletor figure in the toy department at Mervyn's with my grandmother. It reminded me of the cover of one of the Conan books I'd been reading at the time.

I wanted to say it was Conan of Cimmeria but then I looked it up online and discovered this was the cover of the version I read. Not the one that reminded me of Skeletor!

It's possible Skeletor just reminded me of a scene in Conan of Cimmeria with a skeleton on a throne that maybe he had to battle. Or it was just another of the books. Anyway, I begged her to buy Skeletor for me and she did and I played with just Skeletor for I don't know how long. This was before the cartoon even existed. Believe it or not, the figures did come first!

End Digression.

Not long after I purchased those Cerebus books, I discovered the huge Cerebus phone books. I don't know exactly when Dave Sim began publishing those but I believe a few were already available when I discovered them. I just happened to stumble upon his initial try at compiling his stories (Swords of Cerebus) first. At that point, it was over. I bought all that I could find and finally began reading the Cerebus monthly issues. It was some point during the "Mothers & Daughters" saga. If I had begun at "Melmoth," I'm not sure I would have continued with it! But will get to that eventually!

For now, let's remember how the whole thing began.

One dollar. Can you believe it?!

This is Cerebus before he loses his helmet, his necklace, and 2/3 of his nose. You know how people sometimes have some major body changes or their heads kind of reshape as they age? I figure this is late teenage Cerebus who matures across the next twenty or so issues until he finally assumes his adult form. That's the in-continuity reason for his appearance change. I know the real reason is that Dave Sim refined his style while gaining valuable experience and practice over time. I don't remember when it happens but at some point Cerebus goes from looking like a slightly amateurish independent comic book to a gorgeous, expressive, Gerhard-backgrounded beauty of a book. Elfquest didn't go through nearly the same dramatic difference in its twenty issues. I guess when you've got three hundred issues to write, you have to get started before you're really ready. Unlike Wendy Pini who was all, "I only have to do twenty of these?! Let me get in some practice first! I don't want Cutter looking like a completely different character a third of the way through the story!"

I'm not saying there aren't obvious aesthetic differences between the elves in Issue #1 and the elves in Issue #20! I'm just saying those differences are way less dramatic!

The original Issue #1 came out at the end of 1977. I think these first issues were published every other month. According to a note from Sim's wife at the time, Deni Loubert, Cerebus came about as a logo for Aardvark-Vanaheim Press. And it was meant to be Cerberus but she spelled it wrong and also I guess Dave Sim couldn't draw a three-headed dog so he drew an Earth pig. I don't know. I'm doing a synopsis of the "Note from the Publisher" on the inside front cover which is just about as long as my synopsis and totally different. Because I have a habit of explaining things poorly, partially because I'm dumb and even more partially because I think it's funny. If you want the truth, get off the Internet and go fucking meditate.

This biweekly issue also includes the introductory essay to the first Swords of Cerebus compilation written in 1981. Dave Sim also explains the origins of Cerebus, more accurately than I did although nowhere near as succinctly.

You don't have to read all that. I just wanted to show you how much Dave Sim had to write to get across the same idea that his then wife took a few small paragraphs to say. This theme will reappear later (much later, thankfully. I'll have my work cut out for me then).

As you can see by having not read that previous essay, Dave also explains his process. If you're interested, go ahead and maximize your browser so you can read the essay. If you're not interested, I won't bore you with another shitty synopsis.

The issue begins with a narrator explaining Cerebus's arrival on the scene. Not an omniscient narrator. It's the voice of just some jerk in the city who was all, "That weird little guy who arrived at dawn? He'd be remembered as the finest warrior even though he was short and deformed." I like to believe that the person telling the story is Techot Thal, the guy who gets his hand cut off by Cerebus on the next page (the narrator talks about Techot in the third person but Cerebus does that with himself as well, so why can't Techot be telling the tale?). He probably begs for gold crowns outside of the local tavern and when somebody asks him about his hand, he begins the story of Cerebus. He probably tells all three hundred issues of the story. Unless he's telling it to a woman and then she walks off disgusted around Issue #186.

The first page tells the potential buyer everything they need to know about the comic book they're about to read: whimsical with pretty accurate depictions of horses.

Cerebus has come to town to do a Conan parody. Remember the part of the first Conan movie where they raid the tower and kill a giant serpent and steal a jewel or something? That's pretty much the plot of this issue. I'm not saying Oliver Stone and John Milius stole the story from Cerebus! It was just easier to say, "Hey, remember that scene in that movie that came out after this comic book?" I figure more people will identify with that than if I'd said, "Remember that Conan story by Robert E. Howard that you probably read when you were a twelve year old nerd who couldn't find anybody to play Dungeons & Dragons with them? Oh wait. I bet a lot of you would have identified with that too! I shouldn't be so quick to assume shit.

Cerebus teams up with some thieves to raid a wizard's tower to steal the Flame Jewel. They've got it all planned but Cerebus is less a patient strategist and more a Leroy Jenkins kind of aardvark. He rushes into the tower heedlessly. Maybe his plan is to get his comrades killed so there's more Flame Jewel for Cerebus.

Do we ever find out who Clovis is and how many body parts he has?

Cerebus and his comrades are attacked by a shadow monster on their way into the tower. It's the first real example of Cerebus's skill with a sword as he defeats the monster. But it also shows that he's not overly powerful, and that he just barely wins the battle. He is vulnerable but strong willed and skillful! There remains doubt as to whether Cerebus can succeed at this mission! Also, it's just the first issue. It's not like the reader knew the story was going to go for 300 issues yet. It was possible, picking this strange new comic up off the shelf, Dave Sim would have realized how much work it was by the end of it and just let Cerebus die on the last page.

The wizard gets the first mention of Tarim (also his incantation earlier mentions "Terim" (which might be important later?)).

As of now, you'd think Cerebus worshiped somebody named Clovis and the humans worshiped somebody named Tarim. But we'll see later that Cerebus is into Tarim too. And maybe Clovis is just some hero myth of the barbarians?

Next, Cerebus is attacked by an animated skeleton! They fight in a pitch back corridor because Dave Sim had yet to partner with Gerhard and drawing backgrounds is probably boring and/or time consuming.

After defeating the skeleton and a ceiling of hallucinogenic petunias dropped on them, Cerebus's companions suggest they flee the tower. But Cerebus forces them to go on, seeing as they promised him a pouch of gold for helping them get the Flame Jewel. What a shrewd negotiator! Even if the Flame Jewel winds up being a cheap knock-off or legend (which it totally will be!), Cerebus still gets paid!

Eventually, Cerebus encounters the wizard and his pet dragon (which I misremembered as a giant snake. Eh, it's similar enough to the Conan story!). Cerebus realizes the dragon is an illusion and closes his eyes as he approaches the wizard. He's all, "I'm just going to keep walking forward swinging my sword like this and if some dumb wizard just happens to get in my way, it's not my fault if he loses his spleen!" Cerebus, ignoring the beast so that the beast must ignore him, marches up to the wizard and kills him. He sure does understand magic!

The thieves pay Cerebus after which Cerebus is all, "You guys should check out the Flame Jewel now! And also remember this old aardvark saying, 'No takesies backsies.'"

Ho ho! What a twist! What a wise aardvarkian warrior! What a realistic looking horse!

Cerebus rides off into the sunset leaving the thieves to declare their hatred for aardvarks. Because even thieves in fantasy novels only consider white men as individuals. Everybody else simply represents their entire race. Unless they do something kind or good or smart. That's when they declare them an anomaly.

At the end of the issue are the "Aardvark Comments," the letters pages. I will be reading and discussing these to some degree since so much of the controversy that Dave Sim eventually had to deal with began life in this section. But that's a topic for another time, something like 185 issues from now.

Here's another bit at the end of the Biweekly edition of Cerebus: The Single Page.

Another reason to love Dave Sim's independent spirit and artistic ethos.

Dave Sim had no need to put other people's work in the back of the Cerebus Biweekly to fill space or to sell issues. He did it simply to support other independent artists. How many mainstream companies would simply use this as an excuse to get people to send them free art just so they could see it in print? Sim is offering artists $150.00 for their efforts. Seems like a pretty generous offer for what basically amounts to exposure. In his later years, he might let his perception of reality as a conflict between men and women ultimately shape his spirituality and the way he read The Bible and The Quran (I mean, the scripture depicts two voices of God, a bad female one and a good male one? Come on, Dave! Hoo boy!) but he was always true to his independent publishing beliefs.

Cerebus #1 Rating: B. A solid B effort here at the outset. I can't begin by giving this issue an A knowing how fucking terrific this thing gets not too far down the line. Besides, it doesn't deserve more than a solid B. The art tells the story of a better than amateur but not quite yet nailing it artist developing his style. The story isn't much more than a Conan fanfic rip with a talking animal shoved into the lead. It's got a few moments where the wit really shines and you can see shadows of Sim's really clever writing. And I don't mean to suggest the art is in any way bad; he's got some terrific panels and creatures in this thing. It's just it gets so much better! And the lettering! Come on! I never comment on letterers but Sim, having complete control of his story telling, knows exactly how to visualize the dialogue and sound effects. This isn't the kind of comic book where you think, "I have to read #2!" Mostly because it's a complete story in itself. But it is the type that will make you remember it when you see #2 on the shelf causing you to automatically pick it up.

Young Heroes in Love #8

Who wouldn't buy a comic book that declares, "Sex...and the Scarecrow!"

Before I move on to a new box of old comic books and a special side comic book project which I'll alternate with other titles, I have this last misfit comic book from the stack. It's a misfit because I purchased it after reading the seven issues I already owned. I was planning on maybe finishing the entire run but then I realized to do that, I'd have to spend more money. And I was tired of spending money on comic books. They really haven't been worth the cover price since sometime in the early nineties. I almost didn't do a "review" of this issue because it doesn't fit the scope of my "project." But then I also thought, "What the fuck else am I going to do?!" Can't argue with that logic!

Or can I? Because after I finished that paragraph, I wandered away from the computer to try to hook up my Xbox 360 headset (the best headset I've ever used) to my Xbox One and failed. Then I remembered I needed to write my review of We Learn Nothing by Tim Kreider. Then I also did a poo. And I rebuilt my cat Gravy's castle after she destroyed it chasing a moth. So there's actually a lot of other things I can do! Like maybe I'm going to go for a walk right now! Be right back!

I'm back! I also ate breakfast and watched the episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation where we're introduce to Jean-Luc McBorg.

This issue begins with The Scarecrow murdering two guys he does not have sex with. To say I'm disappointed would be redundant because I'm always disappointed by everything. Is there an efficient way to get total amnesia so I can experience everything for the first time again? Maybe I should have waited until my forties to do all that LSD.

At least the scene after The Scarecrow's prudish murders starts to get titillating.

The next line, I'm guessing: "Oh no! I'm picking up the phone and my pants just fell down!"

Oh, it turns out The Scarecrow didn't kill those guys. He was just messing with them. It also turns out that nobody gets a phone shoved up their butt. So many fucking disappointments at every turn! What else is fucking new?!

The team sit around headquarters for half the comic book talking about fucking Bonfire and working for the government. I mean, some of them talk about fucking Bonfire and some of the other ones talk about working for the government. They weren't all boning Bonfire and most of them probably don't want to work for the government. I probably shouldn't lump them all into one pronoun, ignoring the fact that they're all individuals with different goals and beliefs and ways to fuck Bonfire.

Bonfire, of course, knows the sexiest way to fuck Bonfire. I'm not imagining it now nor am I realizing some things in life don't disappoint.

Although I, myself, am probably a huge disappointment to my parents, writing online how I'm sexually attracted to fictional characters. Maybe if my dad read this, he'd be relieved that I'm expressing attraction to a female fictional character. But then he hasn't yet gotten to the paragraph where I go on about how I'd like to get my tongue stuck to Frostbite's butthole.

Halfway through the comic book, the Young Heroes in Love (their official super hero group name, I think?) encounter The Scarecrow.

The way The Scarecrow is holding that fear gas canister is something I can't comment on because I just learned I have young readers.

Imagine me thinking, for years, that I only had adult readers! What fucking adult would be entertained by this bullshit?!

Every single one of the Young Heroes (in Love!) collapses in fear. That's me reading a few pages of a bunch of them experiencing nightmares, shrugging my shoulders, and saying out loud to the cat, "That was probably all of them! Not one of them wasn't affected! I suppose I could double check to see which one might have held their breath but why bother? I'm sure that was all of them. It was definitely a lot of them. Look, cat. See that one? That's Bonfire and that's almost her butthole. What a skimpy costume, right?!"

Oh yeah. That's the one I forgot about. The leader, What's-His-Name.

Some of you are thinking, "How could you forget the most important character? You know, the muscular blonde white heterosexual guy?" Or some of you would be thinking that if I hadn't alienated you years ago with my total soy boy cuck ethos. Weird that that's what it's called nowadays. I remember when it used to be described as compassionate, thoughtful, and inclusive. But what do I care? I'm not the gigantic asshole (which is what you abrasive, selfish dickholes were called then and what you're called now and what you will be called forevermore).

The issue ends with another member of the team trying to fuck Bonfire. This time it's Icicle or whatever his name is. They kiss and nothing blows up or melts (at least nothing that can be shown in an unrated comic book).

Young Heroes in Love #8 Rating: B+. I really love the art. And that's saying something because I normally ignore the art. My criticism isn't art criticism. It's word criticism. I criticize words. And the words in this issue were all the correct words in all the correct places. So thumbs up, I guess?

Darkstars #8

Worst homecoming theme ever.

This is the last issue of Darkstars I own. I'm a little bit sad that I own this one because this cover is poo on fire. I suspect that Past Me, much like current me, never looked at the covers of the comics as he bought them. He just saw the title and grabbed the magazine, adding it to the pile to take to the register. Usually when the cashier is ringing up my comics is the first time I'll really look at the covers and I'm not the type of person to grab the cashier's hand as they pick up a comic book to ring it up and yell, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Not so fast! This comic book looks like runny diarrhea! I'm putting it back." No, I'm more the kind of person who notices how awful the comic book looks and simply lets out a nearly inaudible, haunting moan from the deepest part of that part of me my old friend Soy Rakelson would probably call a soul. I just call it the part of my brain that's going to get the skewer first when I finally decide none of this Goddamned pain is worth it anymore.

Look at this fucking terrible cover. This 90s art is the kind of art that was (and often still is) hailed as dynamic by critics and fans who never seem to know the difference between "dynamic" and "posed." This doesn't look like a shot of these idiots having just finished a battle with a mechanical bull. It just looks like they stood in line with their prom photo tickets until they were waved over and told to look at the camera and smile before being hustled off the stage for the next couple's chance at a shitty memory.

It's been a few days since I wrote a comic book review because I've been busy with my other project. I set up an Artificial Intelligence program to come up with new names for Xanth novels. These are some of my favorites:

Centaurs Can't Masturbate
The Boner Tree
Titillating Minors Makes Money
The Word Bosom Fifty Thousand Times in a Row
No Matter How Many Naked Women are Described, Never Mention Their Genitals
Whoops! That Scene Was Too Sexy
In This One, A Dragon Fucks a Duck
The Human Nickelpede
Seriously Though. They Can't Fucking Masturbate!
Seventy Unfunny Puns and Sixteen More That Don't Make Any Sense
This Book is the Merriam-Webster Definition of Chauvinism
Convicting Somebody of Rape is Embarrassing for Both Parties So Maybe Just Forget About It?
Whoops! I Gave a Ten Year Old Female Centaur Huge Boobs. Can We Fix This in Post?
If You've Read Piers Anthony's Other Books and Enjoyed Them, Maybe You'll Like This Book That He Put Way Less Effort Into
Magic Doesn't Recognize Same-Sex Relationships But a Human Can Fuck a Goat and Produce a Mutant Offspring

Oh no! Are they planning on destabilizing a region so they can send in the military and take control of its oil?

Eight issues in and I haven't discussed the Darkstars uniform. Ignore the one on the cover; the artist completely fucked that one up. Just check out the one on the panel scanned above. What's with the piano keys theme? Will we eventually learn that they're powers are tied to music in the same way the Green Lantern power is tied to emotion? Did Grant Morrison ever use the Darkstars in his Multiversity lore as the movers and shakers of the harmony of the spheres which allowed for the different universes vibrating on different musical frequencies? But most importantly: can you play Chopsticks on a Darkstars' chest?

Another great (?) aspect of the Darkstars uniform is the huge arrow pointing at the crotch. Whenever I wear super tight material that hugs my junk and exposes my intimacy, I love to call attention to it. "Hey hey hey! Ladies and Gents! Have you ever wondered exactly what my cock and balls look like? Check it out! Also this isn't vulgar because you're looking at cloth and not my skin even if the cloth hugs every wrinkle and vein. So please stop trying to have me arrested."

It turns out "The American Way" isn't destabilization of countries who have resources that Americans want but don't want to pay for; "The American Way" is advertising jobs for needed positions. Man, that's so boring. And yet, it's the most interesting part of this comic book series so far!

In 1993, what does "some familiarity with computers" mean? That you've used Koala Pad and wasted tons of meat by killing bears on The Oregon Trail?

I know, I know! By 1993, people no longer even remembered Koala Pad and The Oregon Trail. It's just I don't really remember what was big in 1993. AOL Chat and Myst, maybe?

You might also be wondering why Carla is dressed like a lunatic. Turns out, she's taking the Darkstars to a Country Western Bar. Yee haw! I'm pretty sure the first bar I ever went to was a Country Western Bar, The Saddle Rack, in San Jose, California. It was my 21st birthday and we were there because my friend Bob and I had made a pact when we were ten that when we turned 21, we were going to ride a mechanical bull. Bob turned twenty-one 23 days before me and he also remembered that stupid pact for eleven years. I also opened some presents that night and the woman I was dating gave me a Lobo t-shirt.

Geez, we get it, Darkstar. Your entire race was murdered. Don't make us feel guilty about having fun just because your people "used to have fun too."

What a dumb question, Carla! Obviously he knows what music is. He's got a fucking piano painted on his chest.

While Darkstar hits the bar, Homeless Mo hires an office manager and K'lassh destroy's Darkstar's ship in orbit. Also, I should probably stop calling Mo Douglas "Homeless Mo." He lives at the office now!

Ugh! What's with all this political correctness and virtue signalling?! Why can't this old comic book be more like, um, older comic books and just stick to bank robberies and punching bad guys? I mean super villain bad guys bent on taking over the world and not white supremacist bad guys intent on taking over America! I mean, well, you know what I mean! Just have the good guy punch the obviously bad guy who doesn't need to espouse terrible social beliefs that I might also espouse! We know he's bad! Just make him generally bad or you're going to alienate your readership! I know racism is bad! But shoving it down my throat like this just makes me think, "Maybe it's not so bad?"

That previous caption was satirical and not actually my personal feelings. See, the thing about writing is that you can write whatever you can imagine and it doesn't make the thing you've written some secret insight into the truth of the writer. It's just shit that was typed in half a second without any thought at all behind it. Except, I mean, there was a lot of thought behind it. And a lot of that thought was less about Comics Gaters types currently spouting a lot of that kind of garbage and more about comic book fans writing letters to old comics that were saying the same kinds of things twenty and thirty years before it got a stupid "Let's append -gate to another word!" name. Also, it did not take half a second. Mostly because my brain is broken and it took me forever to pull the word "alienate" out of it even though it was the word I wanted to use and I knew the definition and could almost hear the word in my head but my brain was all, "Fuck you. Why should I give you this word you're seeking? You know how many hits of LSD you rammed through me, you careless asshole? Get fucked!"

Darkstar takes an interest in the mechanical bull and is all, "Aw, that doesn't look so tough! Not like this space mechanical bull from this place in space I know!" Some drunk and tough cowjerk hears Darkstar's comments and simply assumes, like I assume he always assumes, that Darkstar is emasculating him with his words.

Beau is the Lobo of the Country Western Bar.

Darkstar decides the best way to calm the situation is to ride the mechanical bull. Beau watches him and yells, "He's the best I've ever seen!" It begins to look like Darkstar's plan is going to work until some other rube tells Beau, "That guy ain't human!" Beau goes full redneck and is all, "Yeah! He ain't! That means I have a duty to try and get him killed!" He then throws the switch on the mechanical bull to "Do Not Attempt This! Dangerous! Why Did We Even Add This Setting?!" Carla cold cocks Beau to help save Darkstar even though he doesn't need help. Wasn't she listening when he told his story about the space mechanical bull in space and how it was way harder than the Earth version? Darkstar breaks the mechanical bull with his crotch and will now have to pay for the damages. It's a good thing he's saved all that gold by firing Flint last issue.

I don't know if it ever happened because this was the last issue of Darkstars I ever read but I hope Beau came back as a villain and called himself Low Beau.

Dammit. Now I want cake.

Carla writes a check to pay for the damages to the bar just as K'lassh arrives. Carla decides to keep her checkbook out.

Darkstars #8 Rating: B+. I don't know if this issue was better than the rest because I knew it was the last issue I was going to read or because it objectively was better. At least I didn't have to suffer through Travis Charest's 90s art. This issue was done by guest penciller Patrick Zircher! Basically that meant it looked like 80s comics which I never mean to defend when I say 90s comics art was terrible. There was a lot of 80s comic art that was fucking awful as well! But it was standard awful! 90s art was unbearable because it was objectively terrible in so many ways (anatomy, asymmetry, overuse of specific tropes) but people proclaimed it the greatest art they had ever seen. I wouldn't have minded so much if everybody was all, "Well, this isn't great but it's different. Let's see what happens with it for awhile!" Anyway, in my world, Darkstar was murdered by K'lassh and there was never another issue.

Darkstars #7

The "A"s in the logo have genitals.

In the 90s, comic book readers accepted that professional artists were now drawing like every kid in the 2nd grade. Not exactly, of course! I wouldn't want to be taken literal by everybody on the Internet who doesn't understand exaggeration and hyperbole. Unless the do understand it but they understand wanting to sound smarter than everybody else on the Internet so much that they can't understand whimsy and mockery. So the figures are drawn better than I could have done in 2nd grade. But I know every single time I drew something in 2nd grade, I'd misjudge perspective and depth. So after drawing the first guy (who I decided was standing in mist because I didn't want to draw his feet in that foreshortened way that feet need to be drawn but which is difficult to pull off), I'd begin drawing the second character. But at some point, I'd realize I'd gotten their proportions wrong and so I'd wind up making them stand in a hole in the ground. Then the third guy would look like he was floating so I'd draw a mound of dirt for him to stand on (and not stand on in the way we would see a person standing on dirt but standing directly on top of the horizontal line that was the top of the mound of dirt). Then I'd think, "Should they be standing in a city or a forest or a battle scene full of corpses?" But that thought would only lead to the thought, "No, that's too much work," and then I'd just sketch some lines for clouds or air movement or something and call it done.

So, you know, just like this. Maybe I should have realized at the time that my 2nd grade style was the popular style because it is the only time I've ever had a work of art hung in a museum (the Triton Museum in Santa Clara)! Fuck, I missed my calling! I could have helped found Image Comics!

This issue begins with an alien wearing a fart collector on his head.

The only reason you haven't seen me on Shark Tank with my Fart Collector is because I know what a fucking scam it is. Sure, you have to pay back loans if your business fails while investor money is free. But if your business is successful, the loan is eventually paid off while the investors stick around sucking off your profits until the day you die.

How do you know if you're good at poetry? Poems are like farts. Most people leave the room in order to avoid yours but they can't get enough of their own.

The fart loving alien is some despot whose people have finally turned against him and hired an assassin to kill him. It's 1993 and Darkstars could sure use a bump in sales with a Lobo guest spot but I'm guessing it won't be Lobo because I'd fucking remember that. The poor despot. He's a terrible ruler who treats a certain segment of his population as not worthy of life and he longs for their love anyway. That's exactly the kind of leader who should be assassinated. I am now winking and nudging you with my elbow.

This is the exact face of every protagonist in every comic during Image's first year in business (except for the ones that were demons from Hell or had one mechanical eye).

Darkstar and Hawkman become best friends and promise to team up again in the future. Then he fucks off to go do whatever Hawkman did in Hawkworld. Fuck if I ever read that. Have I mentioned how much I don't like Hawkman? Or Green Arrow?! Or Hal Jordan? Or Superman? Maybe I should just list the DC heroes I like: Halo and Blue Devil.

The fart-sucking despot faces his assassin and of course it's not Lobo. Judging by the 90s Image look, his name is probably DeathDie or Crushblow or DeadBlast or PunchAbort.

Did all 90s artists design new villains using the same standard template?

The assassin's name is K'lassh. Yeah, two S's instead of two A's. It's an alien tongue. It probably means "He Who Sucks The Entrails Out of a Rabbit's Asshole and Fucks the Corpse."

Now it's time for more art because holy fuck is it terrible. But it's terrible in that exactly specific way that comic book readers were blind to in the 90s. In the 90s, this art was fucking radical, dude.

Part of me gets it. Part of me thinks, "Whoa! That art is fucking dynamic and bad ass!" But that's also the part of me that smells my finger after it breaks through the toilet paper while wiping my ass.

Flint quits his job as deputy Darkstar before Darkstar can even yell at him. Then he's all, "I'm just like you!" And Darkstar flies off thinking, "Yeah! He is just like me! I bet we'll be good friends in a few more issues!" The next issue is the last one I own so I hope I never see that asshole cop again. Sorry to be redundant.

The story of K'lassh killing alien Trump was told so that by the end of this story, when the drug runners bring K'lassh to Earth to battle Darkstar, we, the readers, will be shitting in our pants thinking, "Oh no! That guy is really powerful! Darkstar is in trouble now!" Or we laughed at loud at the stupid costume and name and stopped buying the comic book forever.

Darkstars #7 Rating: C. I think seven issues of any mediocre comic book is just too many to read without another series to break up the space monotony. And I've still got one more! But after this, I'll be done with this box of old comic books! I don't know how long I've been re-reading my old comic books but I think it's been a few years now. And I've just finished the first box. Granted it wasn't a long box or a short box; it was a big old fruit box. So there were a lot of comic books in it! I can't wait to see what comic books await me in the next box I open! But whatever series winds up being in that box, I think I need to alternate titles to keep myself interested. I'll figure it out when I get there.

In the meantime, how about buying my Role Playing Game, Places & Predators? I know Amazon sucks. If you're ideals mean more to you than buying my hilarious and fun game, you can always Venmo $3.00 to GrunionGuy and I'll send you a PDF.

Darkstars #6

Art directors were suffering from some weird brain parasite in the early 90s.

In the 90s, the way you could tell the difference between men and women in comic books was that men's faces were full of lines to express tension and rage and determination while women's faces were smooth blank canvasses to express their beauty and their lack of a nose. No wonder I hardly dated in the 90s. A woman would start flirting with me and I'd think, "Ugh! She's got too much nose!"

People think 90s comic art was all about lots of pouches and big guns. But it was just as equally about lines all over men's faces, gritting teeth, clenched fists, adult women who look no more than fifteen, and characters that had one weird eye because drawing symmetrical eyes is hard.

The issue begins with Darkstar and Homeless Mo flying off to help Flint stop the space sex slave traders. Homeless Mo can tell something's bothering Darkstar because he has even more lines on his face than normal. Homeless Mo says, "You look way more like a male character than usual. Is something bothering you?" And Darkstar is all, "Let me tell you the story of the day everything went wrong and I lost my innocence about the job and I became a cynical bastard who flaunts the rules because the rules can't save anybody!"

Darkstar's origin is that his planet was destroyed by a race raiding it for resources. He was one of the few survivors and was approached by a Darkstar to join the force. He did because what else was left for him? Also maybe he could help some other poor planet. When he finally got his chance to help out, he screwed up and everybody on the planet under his protection died. So now he's bitter and angry and guilt-ridden. But he's still got a job to do so he's going to stop pitying himself and do it. Plus he'll probably need to beat whomever he suspects of doing anything wrong and maybe kill them because playing by the rules just didn't cut it for the people on Jenuwyne.

Zack Morris could be jerking off into Steve Urkel's mouth while the Spice Girls girl powered each other's buttholes and it would be less 90s than this page of art. Not?

Hawkman and Hawkwoman stumbled upon the space sex slave traders when they tried to kidnap a friend of theirs. Apparently she and Carla White are the only two women worth missing on a massive rocket ship filled to the brim with kidnapped women. Also, did Hawkman lose Superman's number? He could have just called him to stop the ship and then...oh wait. Never mind. I forgot Superman is dead. Loser.

Oh man. I'm so sexist. I mean, oh woman. I'm so sexist. I assumed only women were being taken as space sex slaves but there are male humans in shackles aboard the ship too. That seems weird because why kidnap men when you could just tell them, "Hey, you want to have tons of sex with strange and exotic space women?" And then before they heard you mumble "and space men too," they'd have already been shouting, "Yee-haw! I'mma gonna get my dick space wet! Whoopee!" If that reaction doesn't ring true as a universal way of pre-celebrating the coming loss of your virginity, forget I even said it.

Somebody needs explain Earth slang to Colos and also the term "Phrasing!"

Hawkman slips into a hatch on the slaver ship before it closes. Weird to still be closing hatches in the middle of a space launch but since I don't work for NASA or Space X, I can't say if that's all that improbable. I'm sure it's totally fine. Darkstar and his sidekick follow close behind Hawkman but since the hatch is closed, they have to smash through it. That also doesn't interfere with the launch. I'm glad I know nothing about the incredible frictional forces and heat build up produced by launching a large metal ship out of Earth's atmosphere or I might now be stroking my chin and shaking my head while mumbling, "Oh, come on!"

Also it's a fucking comic book so who cares? As long as some people get masered and Hawkwoman shows more ass and cleavage, the audience is going to come back for more.

Hawkman is crying because another man saved his life. On Thanagar, that means you're now Hawkwoman.

That last caption may have sounded like a sexist joke but it was commentary about the hyper-masculinity of Hawkman. He probably also said, "No homo," after being saved and then punched holes in five different walls.

Meanwhile, Hawkwoman and Detective Jamón-Face continue fighting the space sex slavers on Earth.

Here's half of what the audience is clamoring for.

Even Hawkwoman must be tired of Hawkman's toxic masculinity or else why would she call him half-cocked? What an insult!

Darkstar Flint and Hawkwoman stop Pappas and his alien crew. Flint takes off to leave the clean-up to Hawkwoman and the cops. But before he leaves, he shoots his maser at people so the audience can get the other half of what they want out of this book. Is "Darkstars" an anagram of "tits and masers"? Close though, right?

This was the most practiced pose in 90s super hero comics.

What were we fucking smoking in the 90s?! I only say "we" metaphorically; I fucking hated this style of art even back then. There's a reason I don't own Wild C.A.T.S. #1 or any of the other debut Image books. I didn't even pick them up for investment purposes! Don't think I didn't buy my share of crap though! I kept buying The New Titans well past issue #100; it's just that I didn't buy crap simply because everybody was raving about the new kinetic art style by a bunch of young up and coming artists who probably had high school year book quotes like "Why would I study anatomy?" and "Thigh legs are as thick as torsos, right?"

I just discovered, six issues in, that Homeless Mo's name is Douglas. How did I get it so wrong?! That's the most rhetorical of rhetorical questions. I could go back through the issues to see why I thought his name was Mo but that feels like work. Also, I probably just forgot his name and made up Homeless Mo subsequently fooling myself into believing that was his real name.

What the fuck?! Darkstar just called him Douglas in the previous panel!

Well, I guess that solves the mystery. His name must be Mo Douglas and he's homeless. Grandmaster comic book reader?

As Darkstar and Mo and Hawkman break into the slave pen, Carla White rallies the other prisoners to pick up the fallen guards weapons and fight back. They respond by throwing their fists in the air and yelling, "Yeah! We can fight too!" But things don't work out too well for them because they aren't established characters.

If I ever wind up in a battle for my life and I'm killed, please do not chastise me for giving up.

With the help of Carla White, Darkstar, Mo, and Hawkman take control of the slave ship and turn it back towards Earth. Darkstar stares at Carla and begins calculating how much gold he brought with him to see if his budget can afford another deputy. Although judging by the next issue's cover, Carla will just be taking over Detective Flint's job.

Darkstars #6 Rating: B. Was this the type of guest appearances that go us comic book readers so fucking excited back in the day?! Hawkman and Hawkwoman could have been any character at all based on the level of interaction they had with the other characters. I guess all we comic book fans need to be happy is somebody in our favorite character's costume and we'll dish out the cover price of books we'd otherwise not read. On one hand, I think it's poor form for DC to use Hawkman and Hawkwoman so shallowly just to get fans to buy this book. But on the other hand, I hate Hawkman so fuck his fans.

Darkstars #5

What happens when two guys clash, each thinking they're the ultimate authority for good and each believes violence is the best solution to a problem? We'll find out this issue!

I didn't know hawks were angry assholes but I'm assuming Hawkman is the personification of a hawk's personality so it must be true. I also didn't know spiders were mild-mannered. Or guys were misogynist, short-tempered jerk-offs (you know, like Guy Gardner). I've learned a lot from comic books!

I just looked over the cover again and I think it might be on my Top Ten Sexiest Comic Book Covers of All Time. Mostly it's due to the way Detective Crumbstache and Hawkman look like they're furiously trying to jerk each other off and the way Hawkwoman double grips that crossbow the way she'd not have to double grip my cock.

How come I never read Modesty Blaise? It was about two whole things, one of which I really enjoy!

The cover of this issue just got even sexier if you consider the inside advert as part of the cover which I do because look at the way Modesty is sucking off that gun. I bet I was planning on buying Modesty Blaise but then I jerked off over this advert, fell immediately asleep on top of the comic, and woke up later having forgotten all about it. It's the exact same reason I never read Warlord.

Now I want to make this advert into a sign to protest the police. It should really confuse them!

This issue is called "Slaves and Other Prisoners." If one of the "R"s in "prisoners" was a "B", it would be an anagram for pissboner. A better writer probably would have written about the problematic casual use of the word slaves in the American vernacular. "Vernacular" is an anagram for "anal curver."

A couple of aliens have arrived in Earth's orbit to pick up Evil Star and his Starlings and transport them to Galactic Prison. They treat Evil Star like shit and Darkstar is all, "Whoa, my dudes! Chill out, man! Don't make me have to raise my voice! We're all cool here. No need for negative vibes!" Man, I really misjudged Darkstar Colos when I began reading this comic book. He's actually a decent cop. But then again, his story is the exact story of any cop that tries to be decent in a corrupt system that fetishizes violence, power, and respect. He's been shoved off to a backwater planet that's so far out of the Controller's sphere of influence that they've already questioned the leader of the Darkstars as to the need for space cops so far afield. Colos was trouble and he was acting better than the other cops so he got sent off to where he can't cause any problems. Weird to think that the phrase "can't cause any problems" in police lingo actually means "improves the system and works toward justice and accountability."

Detective Chicago-head gets put on the Carla White kidnapping case. The cops don't actually know she's been kidnapped but they suspect Pappas, the Loco kingpin, took her against her will. But Detective Two-Sausages-One-Bun pretends he's been on a drinking jag and isn't in his right mind to lead a raid on Pappas's warehouse. That's because he wants to raid the place himself in his Darkstars Sidekick outfit. Once again, he's proving that he's a terrible cop (aka a status quo, regular, run-of-the-mill police).

Detective Two-Sizes-Too-Big-Head had better hurry with the rescue mission because Carla White is currently being sold into the space sex slave trade. I was going to make a joke earlier about her being sold into the alien sex slave trade but then I thought better of it, realizing that just putting "space" in front of "sex slave trade" didn't rise to an appropriate level of satire that would justify making light of sex slavery. I did add the word "space" to sex slave trade at the beginning of this paragraph but it wasn't for a joke; it was just stating the facts of this comic book. Look, we all read the title! We all knew where this story was headed but I wasn't brave enough to broach the subject earlier. I just said that stupid thing about an nearly correct anagram and moved on.

Oh, by the way, when Carla White hears she's going to be sold into sex slavery, she's all, "I'm not going to be the property of some Middle East sheikh!" Seems a little racist to me. I bet she felt dumb (and racist) when she found out she was being sold to aliens and not Arabs.

Is this why conservatives don't have any morals or ethics? Because they think if they acted on those things, they'd get sold into the space sex slave trade?

Since I've added "space" to the phrase "sex slave trade," I can probably call it hyperbole and satire when I write something like, "Boy! I sure wish all conservatives would get sold into the space sex slave trade!"

Actually, yes, Detective Mustached-Rumproast, that's exactly what you were supposed to do.

It's not the cop's job to become judge and jury because they don't trust the judge and jury will do their job. If that's why cops kill people then I think it means citizens are allowed to kill cops if we don't believe they'll do their job? Am I using logic correctly? I'm just a stupid libturd so I wouldn't know logic if it constantly @ed me on Twitter demanding that I debate it.

Flint (that's the name of Detective Sausage-fingers. I learned his name because I've run out of different types of meat to compare his fat head to) breaks into Pappas's space sex slave trade warehouse where the ship is nearly fully loaded with slaves for space sex. But instead of battling the space sex slave traders and saving the day, he starts a fight with Hawkman and Hawkwoman. Where rock has this guy's pink, salty ham-head been stuck under his entire life? He doesn't recognize the good heroes of the DC Universe?!

I wonder if Stan Lee had ever considered a law suit against every comic book that had two different heroes mistakenly battle each other before they realized their error and teamed up? It's so recognizably a Marvel idea that I would have awarded Stan Lee all the money. Unless the idea is actually from The Bible? I mean Cain and Abel almost pulled that trick except Abel just wound up being too much of a loser to survive to the team up part.

During the confusion of the violent good guys fighting the other violent good guys, the rocket with the space sex slaves takes off. Hopefully Hawkman and Detective Flint will learn a lesson from this incident. Maybe suss out the situation before beating everybody you see to a bloody pulp.

Darkstars #5 Rating: B. The Hawklovers were only in this issue for a couple of pages which is fine by me but probably not ideal for all the Hawklover fans who purchased this book because they were on the cover. I'm sure the next issue will feature more Hawklover action. I'm also sort of hoping that Carla White has now been launched into space and won't be rescued. She'll just turn up in a spin-off series called Space Sex Slave Traders. Obviously that never happened but now that I put the idea out there, maybe it did happen in another, better, sexier timeline.

Darkstars #4

Hey hey! It's the Nineties!

I sometimes wonder how people into fashion and fashion history can look at some item of clothing and know exactly when it was created. Same with experts on music and visual art and poetry. But then I realize that even though I'm hardly an expert, I could probably do a fairly decent job of looking at comic book art and guessing what era it was from. I'm sure if I studied a bit, I'd be excellent at it considering I've done so much pre-course work due to my comic book hobby. The only really difficult part would be guessing art from artists who have really long careers and their style doesn't change a great deal. Like maybe somebody like Curt Swan, you'd be able to guess when he started and maybe a decade or so after as his form improved. But at some point, Curt Swan is just fucking Curt Swan for, like, decades! So I'd probably be terrible at recognizing the minutia that would be the fingerprint of the decade he was working in at the time.

What I'm saying is, "This cover looks like if The 90s ate some bad oysters and wound up shitting and vomiting at the same time but got caught in the rotation so neither The 90s mouth or butthole were facing the toilet and the sick just sprayed out of both ends and landed on the cover of Darkstars #4." And that was one of my less tortured metaphors!

According to this cover, somebody is still trying to make "The Darkstars" happen. According to next issue's cover, it didn't happen. I knew I was on the right side of history when I refused to use the article!

This is the title of this issue:

Imagine how much more exciting George Lucas's movie franchise would have been had he chosen to put an exclamation point at the end of the title. What a tragic loss!

I want my legacy to be, "He wrote a thing that was as good as Lucille Bluth's 'Here's some money. Go see a Star War.'"

Evil Star begins destroying a city because he's evil. The star part of his name must be vestigial because he doesn't act like a star. Unless he doesn't mean the astronomical star but the Hollywood star. I guess the tantrum he's throwing because Green Lantern hasn't welcomed him to Earth is quite star-like. I take it back about the "Star" being vestigial but mostly because I was probably using vestigial wrong. And if I was, just know I was using it metaphorically which means you can't criticize me for using it wrong.

Evil Star calls Green Lantern "the green coward." In the last three issues, no character has actually said "Green Lantern." It's like when a star on a game show is from a show on another network, they don't mention the network because it's their rival. Although they do sometimes. I think it was probably a certain time where nobody would mention the competitors. Probably the 80s. And since I don't know as much as I thought I knew before I started typing this crap, maybe I should have stuck with the analogy of how Marvel and DC always refer to each other as "the competitor." Unless it's another word that's a synonym for competitor. See, I don't know much about that either!

The Eee! Tess Ate Chai Guarantee: "I might sound like I know everything but I'll readily admit to you when I absolutely know nothing (but only if called on it and can't deflect the accusation)."

Some cops pull up to stop Evil Star and one cop is all, "I'll show you power, jerko!" And the other cop is all, "No, don't!" Not because he's against lethal force but because he realizes Evil Star has even more lethaler force, a lesson the cop learns for himself rather quickly.

I'm not saying I cheered at this panel because that would open me up to a bunch of criticism from online jerks who don't understand fiction, satire, or hyperbole.

So with the cops dead, it's up to Darkstar and his sidekicks (one of which is a cop) to stop Evil Star! Unless Green Lantern suddenly appears but I think he's not allowed to show his face in this comic book and/or he's busy becoming Parallax.

So there's this big comic book fight and it's a lot like every other comic book fight you've ever read. Which really makes you wonder why some comic book fans only want to read comic books where there are big fights. Why would you want to read the same thing over and over again?! Some people just like to look at the different outfits, I guess. Anyway, I'm not going to describe the fight blow-by-blow. Y'all know how these things work! The good guys get beat up for awhile and maybe defeated after which the bad guy flees instead of killing them. Or the good guys get beat up for awhile before digging deep and defeating the bad guy. It all depends on how many issues the story is set to run. And since I think this story is over this issue, the fight will be of the latter sort.

I'm not saying, after looking at this panel, I subsequently wrote a fan-fic story that went into way too much detail describing Colos's cock and how Detective Beer-Guzzles' mustache felt rubbing against the thick, pink skin because that would open me up to a bunch of fan-fic writers who would try to befriend me so we could swap dirty stories.

Meanwhile, Carla White learns that you can't quit family. Or mob bosses.

He's from America. Another thing you learn in America: if somebody doesn't respond to you being polite, you have every right to become a violent asshole. It's the major defense on Judge Judy. "Yes, your Honor, I smashed up her car. But she wouldn't move it when I asked her politely to move it for no reason at all except that I wanted to park there!"

Evil Star retreats to a junk yard to engage in an existential crisis. Why is he evil? Why does he do bad things? Why does everything have to die? I mean, on a metaphorical level and not on an evolutionary level where death drives evolution, creating room for offspring more and more capable than the parent of living in specific environments through the recombining of different genes and sometimes through lucky mutations. Darkstar feels like it's a good time to wait and see what Evil Star winds up doing but Detective Mustardstache has a better idea: beat the living crap out of him and maybe kill him if he gives him any fucking excuse at all!

Detective Darkstar gets his ass kicked by the Starlings and Darkstar has to rush in to save him. They then retreat to observe Evil Star.

Every right winger on Twitter who thinks they're the greatest debater since some famous person who could debate well. Napoleon, maybe?

Detective Pork-chops-as-an-appetizer apologizes for getting carried away. Notice how Homeless Mo didn't get carried away and try to kill the perp even though he hasn't had nearly as much training as the cop?

Carla was kidnapped by her ex-client, the guy being used by the aliens to run the Loco drug ring. Kidnapping a lawyer seems like a bad idea. I mean, kidnapping anybody seems like a bad idea but kidnapping a lawyer seems like it would have extra consequences. I used to do cabinet work for my cousin's cousin David. He was a train wreck of a human being but he did good cabinet work. At one point in his life, he had a lawyer working on his DUI case to try to get it dropped and he was juggling his bills. His solution was to bounce a check to the lawyer. I don't know how that all worked out because I tried not to work with him too much (only enough to pay for comic books, really) but I'm assuming his lawyer decided not to argue the charge down and David wound up in jail.

This is the argument of everybody who has ever kept the world from becoming a better place.

Carla refuses to keep working for the mob boss so now he probably has to kill her or else he's facing kidnapping charges which are as bad as murder charges. Which seems like a bit of a mistake, in my opinion. I mean, sure, you want kidnapping to have a steep punishment. But if kidnapping is equal to murder, every kidnapper is just going to murder the person they kidnapped because it does away with the main witness. I guess the point is that people that wouldn't murder won't kidnap either because the penalty is so great. But if somebody is kidnapping somebody and the penalty were only a year in prison, they'd still probably murder that person in the hopes of getting away with it and not having to spend a year in prison.

Darkstar, using his super computer on his ship orbiting Earth, learns that Evil Star's mind shackle that keeps him from turning into Evil Star is on the fritz. So he's occasionally feeling like a genocidal maniac while mostly just feeling scared and guilty about his terrible thoughts. To stop him, Darkstar inundates him with images of all the people he killed on his home planet. I guess Evil Star was the original Lobo, committing planet-wide genocide.

Earlier I mentioned how he laughed while his wife and son died not because I'd read ahead but because, probably like the author of this story, I read the Who's Who entry on Evil Star.

Evil Star collapses from the guilt and Darkstar takes him into custody. He encases the Starlings in scrap metal and, I don't know, sells them at a yard sale. Carla gets extra-kidnapped by the mob boss whose name I probably should have learned four issues in.

Darkstars #4 Rating: B+. This issue was better than the previous three but I can't explain why. Maybe because there was a super villain and most probably not because some cops died and the other cop got harshly reprimanded for immediately resorting to violence. The Darkstar Colos has turned out to be far more diplomatic than I was expecting. I wouldn't have guessed that Hal Jordan was more temperamental than some testicle-headed alien in a 90s costume called Darkstar.