Get Away With It (Part Two)

Only in the world of super-heroes can you...

2. Sport a kooky hair-do or beard style in both your super-heroic and civilian identities. People will flat-out refuse to ID you!

I'm Blockade Boy, and I Approved These Whiskers

Storm Boy let me try out an invention he's working on. It's called the "chronophone", and it lets you contact people in other eras/universes, via their cell phones. Storm Boy says he wants to prank-call Oscar Wilde. (I didn't have the heart to break it to him. Just like I didn't have the heart to tell him that the Legion already has a Time-Telephone, which doesn't require the person you're calling to have their own phone.) I could only remember one 21st century phone number, and it was my old roommate's, Jeremy Rizza's. You know... the guy who deluded himself into thinking he writes this blog instead of me! But what the heck. I reached him on the evening of February 17, 2008. That was just over a year since I'd left him in your crummy time period (and dimension). It turns out that he'd been struggling with technical problems and an illness, just like I have! What are the odds? Anyway, he thanked me for helping him figure out that he was gay (I get that a lot) and then he started to gush about how sexy I was, but then he caught himself and said something about not wanting to be the Dorothy L. Sayers to my Lord Peter Wimsey, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean. Supposedly, in the year since I'd last seen him, his life had improved a great deal (I get this a lot, too). He'd moved out of that sorry rental of his into a condo, plus he'd lost some weight and gotten contact lenses. He also had joined the Kansas Equality Coalition, which lobbies for GLBT rights in Kansas. In fact, he'd traveled with a whole passel of other folks from the KEC to the state capital, just that past Wednesday. He had seen some portraits of old whiskery legislators, one of whom looked kind of like me! But he neglected to find out who it was. (Er, okay...!) After I signed off, I did some research on Kansan legislators of Ye Olde Weste. I never did find my lookalike (the beard would have been too short for Stockade Boy) but I did find these guys:

This is Samuel Johnson Crawford, the third governor of Kansas. He's got some sweet imperial/Van Dyke action goin' on with the beard... but just look at that hair! Merciful Jeebus! From what I can gather, the late nineteenth century was a haven for the "skullet", i.e. "party out back, going-out-of-business up front." It distracts from the whiskers. For shame, my good sir! Have you no sense of decency? Also, I'm pretty sure you're actually Robert Duvall.

Here's Charles Lawrence Robinson, Kansas' first governor, sporting an alarming combover/flip-do, as though some mad hair-burner tried to arrange Donald Trump's paltry locks into a semblance of Mary Tyler Moore's. And yet the beard is to die for. Observe the magnificent sweep of that mustache! My heart is pounding like crazy! Of course, I did just eat an entire cured ham. So it might be the sodium. Historical trivia: Robinson was also the first zombie to be elected governor. But he wasn't the last! (I apologize if my political humor is too pungent for you.)

Preston B. Plumb: not only the civilian identity of a Gerry Conway villain (I presume), but also a United States senator from Kansas! Plumb is the first guy on my list to combine a cool beard with a sensible -- albeit nerdy -- hairstyle. Bravo, Plumb! Plumb's hobbies included snowboarding; attending Linkin Park concerts; and wearing droopy, baggy pants with marijuana leaves embroidered on the sides.

The eighth governor of Kansas was John Pierce St. John. He's famous for inventing the faux-hawk, but I think his mustache is pretty darned nifty as well. One quibble: the way it diminishes into a few lengthy gossamer fibers. That tells me he's so desperate for length, that he's willing to forgo density. And that smacks of desperation. It's the same way with some handlebar 'stache wearers. They let the tips grow on forever, so that it looks like they have two curled-up pieces of wire stuck to their faces. (My handlebar mustache icon? Dum-Dum Dugan. Of course.) Trim that nonsense back, brothers! Give the rest of your mustache time to catch up! Otherwise, it looks like your 'stache just got rescued from Mount Hood after being separated from the rest of its hiking party for two weeks. In other words, it looks emaciated. So cut it out. Also, lose the panama hat. You look like a tool.

John White Geary was a governor of Kansas Territory, although he's probably better known as the first mayor of San Francisco. (As if this blog wasn't gay enough already.) What a glorious tailback beard! A mustache would have been a nice addition, but it's just dandy without one. As you can see from the curling forelock, Geary was born one-quarter Kewpie Doll. But he never let prejudice against his ancestry stand in his way. He lived long enough to see the birth of his legendary grandson, the Shoney's Big Boy.

Nehemiah Green (no extra "e") was the fourth governor of Kansas, and all I can say is, "Who is that handsome devil? WOOF!" Perfect hair all around, facial and otherwise. Good show! Green had some serious crosses to bear, since he was a mutant with the power to spray sarsparilla from his eyes, and was blackmailed into joining the Hellfire Club. He was disembowelled by Wolverine.

This modern-looking gent is Thomas Andrew Osborne (yes, with an "e") and he was the sixth governor of Kansas. The beard is simple, but it's full, which I appreciate. I love it when mustaches are allowed to grow past the upper lip. They look so much more rugged that way. And he seems like a very friendly fellow. I can picture him in baseball cap; and a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off; behind the wheel of a semi; his massive biceps tanned by the unforgiving Kansas sun; a pipe in his mouth; his firm, round gut spilling over his chunky belt buckle as I laze in the passenger seat, and his warm, coarse hand reaches over and undoes my... er, anyway, I think it's a nice-enough beard. Let's move on, huh?

*sighs contentedly* Aw, hells yeah. Here's William Alfred Peffer, United States senator from Kansas. The beard is glorious. I give Peffer extra points for wearing it in the waning years of the nineteenth century, when Dame Fashion's gay brother had turned up his nose at such ravishingly extravagant feats of whiskerdom. (Although to be honest, he didn't have anything else going for him, looks-wise, did he? Can you imagine how the rest of that mug must look? *shudder*)

Gender Reassignment Challenge: Enchantress to Enchanter, Part Two

Today I'm revamping the Enchantress' best-known costume. And boy, is it a tough one! Why? Because I say so, that's why! Never question me! Sheesh!

Fine, I'll explain. The Enchantress' 1980's outfit is a weird androgynous affair* that would have looked perfectly at home in a mondern dance company's interpretive ballet about Shang-Chi, Master of Kung-Fu. Plus? It had a kooky hat! But mostly the look screams "1980's!!!" The top is all loose and flowy, and the bottom is... stirrup pants. A girl could have worn this ensemble to the mall in 1986 Minneapolis and been the toast of Teentown! So my challenge was to somehow make it even more butch without going too far afield from the original design.

What I came up with is very "John Byrne." Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, as long as it doesn't involve those weird chunky metal boots he likes to draw... y'know, the ones that look like upended spittoons. Or Donna Troy's "business casual prom" costume from near the end of his Wonder Woman run. (Remember? The spiky off-the-shoulder number? Yikes!) Anyway, goes:

Or maybe it's more like the costumes John Romita, Jr. designed for the X-Men comics in the 80's. Can't you just see Rogue in this? Minus the hat, I mean? Okay, enough nostalgia. Let's break this thing down:

Long hair on a sorceror in the 1980's? Sure, I'll allow it! It's very "David Copperfield meets Aerosmith" so why the hell not? I opened up the front of the blouse/robe thingie and lengthened it on the bottom for more of a loincloth effect. Then I paired the black tights with a black top, so the Enchanter wouldn't show as much skin as the Enchantress. The boots are in a manly, swashbuckling mode, with the "V" shaped flap mirroring the shapes of the hat and the top. I finished it off with a stylized, Kirby-esque Fourth World-type goatee.

*Y'know, I once had a weird androgynous affair. I thought I'd finally gotten Lightning Lad to "switch teams" and then it turned out I'd actually gotten it on with his twin sister, Lightning Lass! Or so they claimed...!

Tomorrow: The Enchanter's final costume! How will I reinterpret yet another bustier? Yeah, I'm not sure either. Let's find out together!

Gender Reassignment Challenge: Mantis

Before we get down to business, I'd just like to say how much I appreciate the generous outpouring of support I've received after my last post. The mountains of letters and sympathy cards, the bushel baskets of orchids, the scented soaps in the shapes of prancing unicorns, the steamer trunk filled with Italian shoes, the gift certificate for twenty-five credits off the all-u-can-eat steak and potato bar at Space Sizzler, the kryptonite-encrusted rocket sled, the Shetland pony that's trained as a personal shopper...! Why, you're the best friends a 30th Century other-dimensional fashion designer who can turn into a moderately-sized steel wall and who is cursed with an ungainly yet strangely handsome mechanical dingus could ever have. *weeps openly*

*wipes eyes and deeply inhales, producing a wet snuffling noise like a gut-shot kodiak*

Okay! So... Mantis! What's her deal?

She's Vietnamese, kind of, only her dad is some guy with a German name who was the original Libra in the supervillain group, the Zodiac. And she married an alien tree, basically, only it was in the body of her ex-boyfriend, and they had a son named "Sequoia" (I shit you not) and she managed to travel to other universes under various aliases like "Willow" and "Lorelei" where she'd mainly just say enigmatic crap, and she hooked up with Kang, only not really, as in that Mantis was a hyp-mo-tized Space Phantom which you have to admit is pretty funny. Also, she has the power of "total body control", like one of those conditioners you can only buy at a salon. Not to mention, she has some kind of super-empathy and she can astrally project herself across the whole freaking universe and build a host body out of vegetation. So she's kind of like the Swamp Thing, only sluttier. She loves to refer to herself as "this one", which is the spoken version of never capitalizing the word "I". Oh, and somehow the Kree are involved. Of course. Also? Ugh. Suffice it to say, I'm not a fan. But if you like her, hooray for you! No, for reals! Go get 'em, tiger! *gives thumbs-up sign*

Girly clothes? She's bustin' out of 'em! For starters, there's the aerodynamic and way off-the-shoulder bustier, the Bettie Page bangs, and the cutesie-poo antennae made of God-knows-what but is probably just hair. And she's wearing a hula skirt!

So how do I butch that up?

Thanks for asking!

Starting from the top down, I had a heck of a time figuring out what to do with Man-Mantis' hair. I figured the hair-antennae would look manlier if they were more substantial. So I altered them into Quicksilver-style forelocks -- only longer, natch. I also gave him Ra's al Ghul's facial hair, to symbolize mandibles. I toned down the shoulders on the goofy fly-away bustier and made it into a vest. The belt and the wrist-bands were neutral enough, so I could leave those alone. The skirt is now ventilated, extremely breathable genie pants -- and not pantaloons, wiseapples! Unlike those ballooning antiquities, my Man-Mantis man-pants are tailored to gently hug the crotch and buttocks areas. It's only below those parts that they flair out, open up, and do their funky thing. Due to the shape of the pants, I had to change the ankle bands a little. So I inverted them. That's all. Simple, see?

I think it works okay. I'd never give one of my paying clients "hair antennae" or a vertically bisected yellow-and-green vest. Or that belt! But they were key elements of the original design and I felt I had to honor that. Man-Mantis would fit right in with 1970's sock-choppy heroes like Shang-Chi and Iron Fist. Right away I can envision a book-length novel where the three of them team up and go to town on a bunch of bad guys, and that part would be over with in about three pages, and the rest of it would just be them relaxing in one of those Japanese communal baths, talking about foot lotions.

I mean, I'd buy it.

Previous Gender Reassignment Challenges:

• Saturn Girl
• Scarlet Witch
• Looker (and a slight revision)
• Storm
• Marvel Girl
• Black Canary
• Phantom Lady
• Snowbird
• Dazzler

Next week: Rescue Me: Titania! But before that is April Fool's Day. I certainly hope nothing untoward happens to my blog.

Gender Reassignment Challenge: Snowbird to Snowbeast

I was going to tackle this challenge last year (your time) but I put it off. Not because it was too hard, but because it seemed too easy! After all, Snowbird's costume is barely more feminine than, say, Dove's -- er, the first Dove's, I mean. The only girly elements are the color scheme and the ubiquitous Marvel Tiara. That damned tiara! Who knew the Scarlet Witch would be such a trendsetter? And of course it has a freaking cameo or some shit set smack-dab in the center of it. That meaningless little piece of bling is the element Storm added to the template. So yes, I suppose it's a challenge to try and incorporate the Marvel Tiara into a masculine design without repeating myself. But the rest of the costume is strictly generic superhero. I finally realized I could up the challenge factor by trying to hew more closely to my chosen name for Snowbirdboy: Snowbeast. How could I change the theme from birds to beasts and still keep the basic lines of the costume? Well, I think I came up with a happy solution.

Here's the Snowbird everybody knows and loves:

And here's Snowbeast, rough-and-tumble Canuck drinking buddy and all-around flamboyant dresser:

See what I did with the tiara? I turned it into hair! I initially had Snowbeast's chin and upper lip totally hairless, but then he really looked like Lion-O. I changed the oval jewel/cameo/lozenge/thingie into a rocky crystal. No wonder he's grimacing! You try maintaining a sunny disposition with a freaking New Age crystal embedded in your skull. Also, he just realized he's standing in a puddle of Kool-Aid and now his socks are all squishy. Back to the crystal... I moved it further down on his head, Adam Warlock-style. It's butcher that way. No, I can't explain why. Just trust me on this, okay? Sheesh! I pushed the sky blue of the original costume towards a grayer, storm-cloud blue, and I roughed up the feathery, scalloped edges of the cape, gloves, and boots into Marvel-esque Byrne Tatters. But then I screwed that up with an ill-advised inking job. D'oh! And I did a Timber Wolf thing with the chest. Not bad... eh? (See what I just did there?)

Previous Gender Reassignment Challenges:

• Saturn Girl
• Scarlet Witch
• Looker (and a slight revision)
• Storm
• Marvel Girl
• Black Canary
• Phantom Lady
• Star Sapphire

Next week: another Gender Reassignment Challenge, this time with Dazzler! (Her first two costumes!)

Moral Realignment Challenge: Nightwing and Gizmo

In the moral realignment challenge, I imagine how a hero would dress if he were a villain, and vice-versa. Way, way back on July 10th, Big Head Boy suggested I morally realign the Teen Titans and the Fearsome Five, "80s STYLE!!!" It took me over seven months, but I'm finally ready to meet him halfway! How's that for commitment? I'll do entries for every member of the Fearsome Five -- which is way more than five, by the way -- and an equal number of opposing Titans. I just would rather not do them in a 1980's style -- and especially not like the 80's era George Perez. I mean, the man is a storytelling genius and a true craftsman, but back in the 80's his costume designs were a bit... much.

So, here's an index entry from the "Fearless Fortress" website on Earth-AAA:

Best of DC (Gold Star Digest) #18 [1981]: This DC Digest contained mostly reprints of Fearless Five comics from the 60's and 70's. It also offered a full-length Gizmo solo story called "Breakup!" Written by Marv Wolfman with art by Carmine Infantino. Gizmo's romantic troubles continue as his on-again, off-again girlfriend Komand'r dumps him for Dick Grayson, a dashing aerialist. Meanwhile, Gizmo is frustrated by his inability to stop Nightwing, an owlish burlgar, from pulling off a series of highrise art thefts. Gizmo finally learns more than he bargained for about the criminal. Not only is Nightwing in reality Dick Grayson, but Dick Grayson is Gizmo's old nemesis from the Teen Tyrants: the Robin. First appearance of the Robin as Nightwing. Origin of the Robin/Nightwing. Reprinted stories: "The Fearless Five!" from "The Good & the Gallant" #54 [1964] by Bob Haney and Bruno Premiani [the team's debut], "A Royal Pain" from "Fearless Five" #17 [1968] by Bob Haney, and Nick Cardy [second appearance of the Reasonable Rocker], "Men Call Her... Eve!" from "Fearless Five" #25 (1970) by Bob Haney, Gil Kane, and Nick Cardy [first appearances of Eve Cloud and Mister Zeus], and "Wrongs Over Europe" from "Fearless Five" #46 [1977] by Bob Rozakis, Irv Novick, and Joe Giella [second appearance of the Flops, first appearance of Batman's Daughter].

...Yes, the "evil" version of Nightwing looks kind of like Batman. I already knew I wanted to go with an owl theme for him, and it worked out nicely that the horned owl's silhouette was similar to a bat's. The hard part for me was devising something that didn't look exactly like Batman's costume, and didn't look too much like Owlman's or even Nighthawk's. It probably looks most like Nightowl (from "Watchmen"). I covered the entirety of Nightwing's face to make him more menacing and ninja-like. The feather-like appendages on the sleeves are an homage to Batman's stylized gloves, but I ran Nightwing's all the way up the arms. This is partly in lieu of a cape. I've done bird-themed costumes with capes before, and I didn't want to repeat myself. Plus, I liked the way this costume looked without one.

Gizmo has traditionally been very covered up -- even his head didn't have much flesh exposed, what with the hood and the goggles and the big bushy beard. (His "Outsiders" appearances, with the goofball fu-manchu and braided goatee and the shaved head was not an improvement.) The Bizarro version of Gizmo had to be more accessible for a young audience, so I made him look more youthful. I kept the beard but I lightened it and trimmed it quite a bit. I figured he still needed goggles, but I swapped out his old ones for a style that exposes his eyes. And I adorned his formerly bald pate with a thick mop of hair. I also got rid of the character's pot belly -- which I only noticed in the recent version with the switch from a baggy jumpsuit to skintight Lycra. Honestly, Gizmo, do you know nothing about hiding your figure flaws? (If I had my 'druthers, I'd put Colossal Boy in a tasteful kurta and some genie pants. You heard me, Gim -- if I want to see a flabby man in a cowboy costume, I'll travel back to 21st-century Wichita, a-thank you very much.)

Rescue Me: Commander Kraken

Greetings from the 30th century! I have good news and I have bad news. What's that? You want the bad news first? Man, are you a downer! Alrighty then. The bad news: due to time constraints (i.e. my old/new boyfriend Weight Wizard is insatiable) I have to reduce my posting to once-a-week. The good news: every post will feature a new costume redesign. I have a huge backlog but I'll get to every one I promised I would.

By the way, how do you like the new muttonchops? They're even bigger and muttonchoppier than the old ones! And the hair? It's eminently mussable. And Weight Wizard loves to muss it, believe you me! And I love the red. I decided to splurge and get myself a professional coloring job -- from Color Kid, natch. The man is an artist.

Okay, okay, enough about me. For now! Let's get down to business. Last summer (your time) I started redesigning the costumes of every supervillain ever killed by Scourge, based on my theory that they would have been spared by the vigilante and gone on to live rich, fulfilling lives, if only they'd dressed better. This week, I solve a problem called "Commander Kraken."

Kraken was a modern-day (your time) pirate. Just by definition he should have been cool and boss and rad as heck, but no dice. He was just a goober with complicated facial hair (quiet, you!) and a pathetic little three-pronged prosthetic hand. On the plus side, he also had a squid and said things like "Squeeze, my beauty -- squeeze!!" But take away the squid, and what do you get? A big, hairy, three-pronged zero.

So here's how I would have spruced him up.

You all know how much I adore historic costume -- waistcoats and thigh-length boots and tricorner hats and trapeze dresses and hoodies and such -- but that solution would have been too easy. So instead I went high-tech. The modest li'l prosthesis is gone, replaced by a way-cool robotic squid-arm with lashing tentacle action! (Insert lascivious comment from Scipio here.) Instead of pirate garb I have an ocean-themed wetsuit. I added a few traditional outlaw elements, like the Zorro mask-scarf-thing and the hair. When the Commander reappeared, in an issue of "The Cat," he had a squid-like beard, but I trimmed that down to a long, dangly biker 'stache so it wouldn't distract from the suit. Or the squid!

Tweed Christmas!

Yesterday, we looked at some of the gorgeous gowns from "Power Man & Iron Fist." Today it's the men's turn. Sure, we all know that the title characters' costumes look like finale outfits from "Dancing With The Stars." But what else do they like to wear?

Magnum, T.M.I.! Why, I'm enjoying watching you enjoying listening to Iron Fist enjoying himself, Power Man! I suppose the Hawaiian shirt looks okay, but to be honest I'm having trouble tearing my eyes away from his forearms. *Rrrowr!* The glasses add a hint of vulnerability. Although he'd look even more vulnerable if they were hornrims with tape on the bridge. And maybe the Hawaiian shirt should have a pocket protector. Still, well played, Power Man.

Uh-oh! Looks like some of these hooligans might have a little trouble Stayin' Alive! Iron Fist was just trying to drink A Fifth Of Beethoven but then some Jive Talkin' troublemaker had to go and ruin his good time. So Iron Fist put on his Boogie Shoes and Open Sesame! He goes all Calypso Breakdown on their asses.

...Sorry about that, but I didn't know any good Fantasy Island references.

Here, actor Bob "Dustin" Diamond gets his red-spandexed tail kicked by Colleen "Sometimes I Worry My Sleeves Aren't Voluminous Enough" Wing. Y'know, I want to like Bob, what with the sweet jade "tiger's foot" pendant and the lucious blonde VanDyke. The latter being kind of daring for 1981 -- I mean, who still wore a VanDyke back then? French Ambassadors and NASA technicians, that's who! In other words, LOSERS! So kudos for still rockin' it, Bob! Sadly, when those little touches are combined with the score from your hideous scarlet karate costume, you still end up with a negative total. My solution? Shirtlessness! (Of course, my solution is usually shirtlessness.)

As we've seen, the clothing budget for "Power Man & Iron Fist" is quite extravagant. In fact, they spent so much time and money on the fashions, the supporting cast was kind of hastily cobbled together. Case in point: these two guys. Toby is blind "but he sees more than most people." Oh, so he's like Daredevil. Got it. Toby also appears to be a shabbily-dressed jazz musician. Apparently his playing sucks. Honestly, why couldn't he have been a successful, well-dressed jazz musician? Would that have killed anybody? And then there's the weasel-faced hippie on the right, David Griffith. Nickname: "D.W." (Really? You want to go there, writers? Yikes.) Looks like Kamandi is all growed up! His clothes aren't worth my attention but I did notice something interesting. David is insanely muscular for a hippie film student from 1981. I presume that's because it's a comic book. Check out any TV show or movie from back then. Muscular guys were few and far between, and they were usually athletes or hired goons. Your typical 1981 protagonist had spindly little arms, sloped shoulders, and a belly like a pregnant lady in her second trimester. And a perm! But I digress. In real life, almost nobody from 1981 was in shape! Not even in the fantasy worlds created by Hollywood. But look in any comic book and every background character is built like Captain America. It is a puzzlement.

Excellent three-piece suit, D.A. Hao! Those things always make a man look like a million bucks. The only thing that would make him look better? Shirtlessness! (You knew that one was coming, right? No? C'mon, keep up!) Lieutenant Scarfe, however... wow. What is that outfit, a salute to the Mexican flag? Was this picture taken at the precinct Christmas party? Does the Lieutenant suffer from red-green color blindness and it all looked gray to him? And what's with the half-melted happy face button? What's that, you say? It's a badge? Yeah, I'm not buyin' it. And why is his hair bright blue? What is he smoking? What kind of crazy freaked-out universe did I wind up in? WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!

A Battle Of Gastronomical Proportions!

On "Top Chef" most of the drama comes from the clash of contenders Betty and Marcel. Marcel is a boyish twenty-six-year-old with elaborate supervillain hair. Betty is an ostensibly perky forty-something gal with slathered-on makeup that looks fine indoors but transforms her into Baby Jane Hudson when exposed to direct sunlight. Marcel came onto the show with the self-fulfilling attitude that the other contestants were out to get him because he was so much more talented than they were -- his arrogance did indeed alienate him from almost everybody there (with the exception of one chef who had known him before the show) but in terms of talent he's firmly in the middle. The lower middle. Betty immediately charmed most of the chefs when she arrived. ("We're like sisters!" she chirped to the hapless first-eliminatee Suyai, who was at least twenty years her junior.) But soon enough she revealed herself to be prone to unwarranted, shrieky freak-outs... directed mainly at Marcel.

I started out liking Betty and hating Marcel. Now I think Betty is an unstable, paranoid, phony-ass bitch, while Marcel didn't turn out to be much of a villain. In fact, he helped Betty with her crappy desserts in the last episode, and when the judges criticized the desserts Betty pretty much accused Marcel of sabotage and called him "selfish." Whuh--?! However, Marcel is still far from a hero in my eyes. For one thing, he is far less mature, emotionally, than an educated, well-traveled twenty-six-year-old should be, as witnessed by his pathetic attempt to "stare down" Betty after her initial freak-out. And here's what I really despise about him: he tends to respond to any kind of confrontation with a goggle-eyed, smirking, infantile "Who, me?" look. That shit? Makes me want to punch him in the balls. So right now I can't stand either one of them. On the Television Without Pity boards, however, most people loooove Marcel. They've keyed into his self-imposed victimhood with the force of a thousand overprotective moms. They love his "adorkableness" (ew) and his wounded-puppydog eyes and his spindly, hairy body. "More shirtlessness, please!" they cry. I thank you, no. (Like I should talk--! But still.)

Thanks to his three-part bouffant hair-do and his convoluted facial hair, Marcel often draws comparisons to Wolverine. If you ask me, he's more like the Destructor, from "Ms. Marvel" #2 (February, 1977).

"Hat head" ahoy! Now, this is a more accurate representation of Marcel's hair than I've seen in any panel featuring Wolverine that was ever drawn. Or painted!

Arrogance? Check! Even though Wolverine often claims to be "the best he is at what he does" he never really comes off as arrogant about it. And unlike Marcel, Wolverine can actually back that statement up. Marcel consistently makes mediocre or even downright terrible food but he acts like he's the most talented chef in the competition. I guess that explains the hair. He's never encountered a reflective surface in his life!

Never jeer; the underdog is here! This is the kind of background detail a Marcel booster would pounce on in a nanosecond. "WHY do those jerks at L.A.M.E. always have to show up the Destructor? D. just wanted to relax in his comfy green chair and then that one guy plops his ass down in a freakin' THRONE! HATE!! I hope that L.A.M.E. scientist guy's kid reads this comic book and then he stabs his dad in the leg with a butcher knife." ...And I wish I was exaggerating. I once read a TWoP posting about Project Runway's resident jerk Jeffrey Sebelia (after he made Angela's mom cry) wishing for his own child to "claw that ugly tattoo off his neck." That's not "bombastically stating an opinion for humorous effect." That's psychotic. And please, let's leave the children out of this, okay? Christ almighty.

Inappropriate cuteness! Huge gaping mouth plus happy eyes minus nose equals "anime face." Marcel also looks like an anime character, what with his huge, pretty eyes and his goofball hair. And he has the exact same bodily proportions as Cloud Strife.

Conflict with a duplicitous blonde lady with a split-personality? Bingo.

And just like Ms. Marvel and the Destructor at the end of "Ms. Marvel" #2, Betty and Marcel are still hanging in there, their respective awfulness colliding like matter and anti-matter, leaving neither one as the victor. Of course, Ms. Marvel is sure to win the day. It's her book, after all! But Betty and Marcel? Which one of them will be sent home first? It's anybody's guess at this point. ( I can only say: TO BE CONTINUED!)

*Updated 12:17 PM with links to pictures of Marcel and Betty. Thy will be done, cozmic!

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!

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.

Purple And Orange Make Lame: Blockade Boy

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.



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."



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:



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.



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.



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!