Number 1058
Andy's Atomic Adventures: Pappy's Thanksgiving Turkey Award Winner, 2011:


It's Thanksgiving Day in America, and the day I give readers around the world the bird. The bird would be a turkey, the traditional centerpiece of the Thanksgiving family feast, and also a Turkey Award, which is for the most oddball, screwiest, dopiest and otherwise whateveriest a story is to make it stand out in my mind over all the other oddball, screwy and dopey comics I read every year. You see, the Turkey Award is purely subjective, it's my choice. You don't get a vote. Here's why I chose this year's winner:

I grew up a baby boomer, meaning I was born a couple of years after World War II ended. In the early '50s we had "duck-and-cover" drills in school. In the event of an atomic attack by the Russians we would get under our desks to ride out the blast! You might have seen the old instructional films that are so funny nowadays, but at the time, at least to me, all seemed perfectly reasonable.

The problem is that the United States government, and anyone who could read, already knew that ducking and covering wasn't going to do us any good at all. Follow-up studies in Hiroshima and Nagasaki showed that when an atomic bomb went off over your city, better bend down and kiss your butt goodbye. No school desk would protect you. Efforts to make the atomic bomb seem less dangerous, when everyone knew it wasn't, was all a terrible lie told to us kids. It was probably done in a misguided effort to make us less fearful, or for whatever other arcane reasons, but it was wrong.

Andy's Atomic Adventures is of that era. Originally published in 1953 as issue #1 of Gilberton Publishing's Picture Parade, it came out when I was in first grade. The copy of the story I scanned is from a reprint, The World Of Science, which came out in 1957. It is an out-and-out propaganda job, and worst of all, at the time I believed it. I'm a lot more cynical nowadays.

Something that leapt to mind while re-reading it was, if Andy and his family live 30 miles from the Nevada test site, how did Andy get from his house to the test site on his bike, and expect to get home before dinner? The second was, Andy's dog, Spot, was in the blast zone and survived, and when the radioactivity went away was allowed to come home to Andy. Jeez, the poor dog would've lost all his fur and died a horrible death from radiation sickness. My guess is, unseen to children reading this comic, it took a couple of weeks for the test site people to find a replacement for Spot to fool Andy.

Did I mention while all the rest of this is going on that radioactive treatments cure Andy's mom of her unspecified (but obviously cancer) illness?

The story is drawn by Pete Costanza, who had come from drawing Captain Marvel Comics at the recently (remember, this is 1953) defunct Fawcett Comics, and later went on to ACG. Andy's Atomic Adventures, drawn in its simple, clear style, was a lie, whether perpetrated at the behest of the United States government, or of the publisher's own volition, and is Pappy's 2011 Thanksgiving Turkey Award winner with a solid three radioactive turkeys.


























This is the sixth annual Turkey Award presentation. You can view the others by linking to them:

2006: "The Flat Man" from Pappy's #57

2007: "The Day The World Died" from Pappy's #222

2008: "The Bride of Jungle Jimmy" from Pappy's #421

2009: "The Million Year Monster" from Pappy's #636

2010: "Satanas, the Most Evil Man in the Universe" from Pappy's #849.

Number 1057


Invoking the law of the robots!


Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day, when I present my annual Turkey Award for the most oddball or outrageous story I've read all year. For a while "The Mars Mystery," from Rocket Kelly #2, 1945, was my top choice. At the last minute another story took over the top spot. Sorry, Rocket, but your jets sputtered there right at the end of the race.

Rocket Kelly was a rocket pilot/adventurer/interplanetary policeman from the mid-1940s, when rocket jockeys looked more like airplane jockeys, the stuff kids were used to seeing during the war years. Rocket has two companions, a mechanic and a girlfriend, a rocket that looks bigger on the inside than it does on the outside (holy TARDIS!), and a clumsy art style that renders the stories bizarre or absurd rather than exciting. The artist's name is signed Ted Small, but it's a Fox Features comic, so it's a pen-name.

I like that the conquering robots have goofy heads just like their creator, Professor Mogul, and I like that they have a law. It isn't one of Asimov's Three Laws of Robotics, but a law that says if challenged to the "test of ice" they've gotta do it. I also like that Rocket's dad looks like Robert E. Lee. When the artist went for reference it was apparently to a book of Civil War generals.

No, Rocket Kelly didn't earn the big award, but he's a runner-up. Come back tomorrow for the annual award.










This is a holiday weekend and I'm joining the millions who are traveling. I'll be across the country with family. I may not get many chances to check in on this blog, so if you write a comment and it is delayed in being posted you will know why. I want to wish everyone a wonderful Thanksgiving.

 Number 1056


Jungle déjà vu


A standard plot of a Tarzan comic book, written by Gaylord Dubois and drawn by Jesse Marsh, had Tarzan involved in a rescue, a prehistoric valley, and/or some lost civilization. Lost world stories were very popular, and Tarzan stories often used that theme.

This story from Tarzan #19, 1951, fits into a couple of the above categories. It feels like we've read it before, but that's all right. I like lost world stories, I like dinosaurs in Tarzan stories, I like stories where he rescues beautiful girls.*

I also like to look at Jesse Marsh's art. Two late, great comic artists, Alex Toth and Russ Manning, admired Marsh greatly, even though their styles were poles apart from his. They liked his storytelling ability, and when you study Marsh’s pages he kept the action moving.
















*Tarzan would not take advantage of a helpless female, no matter how attractive. He was married to Jane, after all. But while he was out adventuring Jane was home, a long ways away. It didn't matter because, like the heroes of the melodramas of a bygone time, Tarzan "had the strength of ten because his heart was pure." Unlike Timon the tricky in "Tarzan and the Thipdar," Tarzan would never dream of taking another man's woman.