My New Best Friend

THE SPIDER - MASTER OF MEN!

I'm not sure if all of you remember Nichols Department store, specifically the Salisbury location.  After Nichols went out of business, the building went unused before briefly becoming an indoor flea market.

Flea markets are one of my favorite things in the world, along with antique stores, and coincidentally my sister, had she played her cards right, could have easily wed Bargain Bill, Junior, thus tying our family in with the Bargain Bill Flea Market dynasty of Laurel Delaware for all time.  But you just couldn't do that, could you, Betsy?

Hands down my favorite stall at the indoor flea market was called "Not Just Books", a stall which sold only books.  Exclusively.  Just books and nothing else.  

It was there I bought this:

Or rather, my grandmother bought it for me and, bless her heart, I remember her telling me that it looked like a good one.  For this and many other things, I am forever in her debt.

As far as I knew at the time, the book was part of a series.  It's hero was one Richard Wentworth, who conducted a weird war against evil.  This copy was printed in the seventies, I think, but was a reprint of a novel that had appeared first in January of 1935.  In '35 Wentworth was referred to as "The" Spider while in action but "The" was dropped this time around to make it sound more like a spy code name.  Like Batman, Wentworth was a wealthy man, a criminologist, in fact, who got his kicks crusading against crime.  Other references were changed, and so the Spider's 30's era automobile became a 70's era sports car and some timely references were added.  It was, as they say, jazzed up for then modern readers.

I next picked up a Spider novel shortly after enlisting in the Navy.  I'd long been enamored of pulp novels and in particular the garish colors and gruesome scenes depicted on their covers.  The cover of this edition was a more traditional one:

This was during the long and tedious process of enlistment, signing and swearing in and generally being indoctrinated to the military's highest protocol, which is "hurry up and wait".  On a dinner break I walked over to a bookstore and found the Spider there waiting for me.  I read it, enjoyed it, and left Richard Wentworth behind for more than 15 years.

Legend has it that Harry Steeger, an editor for Popular Publications, was seeking a character to rival the Shadow, produced by Street and Smith.  The Shadow was a man of mystery who wore all black, carried two .45 caliber pistols, had a trademark ring, and was almost as psychotic as the criminals he warred against.  One afternoon while playing tennis, Steeger saw a spider crawling across the court, which to some may have been just a wandering arachnid, but Steeger saw inspiration.  And dollar signs.

Note the black ensemble, the two .45 caliber pistols, the
trademark ring, and just how crazy the Spider looks.  

Norvell Page, a native Virginian, took over writing the new magazine after a few lackluster issues and proved just crazy and weird enough in his own right to add an entirely unheard of dimension of sheer strangeness to the magazine.

Though a few people might still remember the Shadow today (there was a movie with Alec Baldwin around 1997) I prefer the Spider hands down.

The past few months have been a strange and lonely time for yours truly.  Little things have come to mean a lot, and for whatever reason I gave the Spider another shot, and boy am I glad I did.  I've read a bunch  of these damn things and am so glad there are more than a decades worth of them left to go.

During my reading of the last one (#110 "Zara- Master of Murder", November 1942)  I even went so far as to highlight  a few passages:

"He did nothing so limiting as to make plans in advance."

The Spider is a master of impromptu violence and of bewildering escape.  Given a pair of tweezers, he could wipe out an angry mob.  Given a nose hair, he could escape from San Quentin.

"But the eye is slower than the brain- and the Spider is faster than either."

Norvell Page writes of the Spider with grand hyperbole, at the same time making him so sinister you're almost as scared of him as the villain he's pursuing.

"...the Spider's voice was monotonous.  "Nothing can withstand my will.  Zara is not an exception.  My will is more powerful.  It overcomes resistance.  It dominates." "

The Spider is, again imitative of the Shadow, a master hypnotist.  That is why he is called "the Master of Men".  He'd tell you to "go take a hike" and before you knew it you'd be out on a nature trail somewhere and not know how the hell you got there.  

In addition to the heroics, the Spider is also involved with the lovely Nita Van Sloan.  The two are actually a great couple and rather than being completely helpless and constantly rescued, Nita more often than not is a perfectly capable assistant to her beau.  The Spider is very affectionate and tender to her, telling her more than once that "our karmas are one."

And then, of course, he runs off to shoot, stab, mutilate, and telepathically assault people.

The weirdest part?  On the covers the Spider is shown as a guy in black suit, cloak, hat, and mask, right?  This was an editorial decision on someone's part, because inside, the Spider is described as looking like this:

I've only read his hair described as black, but, as I said, I'm new to the Spider.  But fangs?  Brrrr.... Talk about striking terror into the hearts of criminals.  A mask is one thing.  After you got over the initial "why the hell is this guy wearing a mask?" you'd shoot at him, but not this guy.  What a creeper!

Am I gushing?  Yeah, I guess I am.  I'm a fanboy at heart and always will be.  And the new object of my affection?  Richard Wentworth, a.k.a.  the Spider!

The above image is from the ReelArt Studios statue of the Spider.  Had I the hypnotic abilities of my new hero, I would compel you to buy this for me for Christmas.    

Mild-Mannered Reporter Paul Sterling

  When I was very young the local authorities offered a service in which they would take video footage of your child to have on file in the horrific event of their abduction.  My sister and I stood in front of a chart which gave our height and we were asked to state our names and answer a few questions.  The last question they asked was what you wanted to be when you grew up.

I said I wanted to be a superhero and here, twenty five years later, I still do.

Comic books are not the obscure corner of Americana that they once were.  Superhero movies have dominated the box office for years now and mainstream publications and websites now include reviews of comic books alongside film, music, literature, and television reviews.

The next time you're out and about count how many superhero t-shirts you see people wearing.

I was in an extreme minority as a youngster, being a comic book afficianado.  I had a crush on Lois Lane and Kitty Pryde from the X-Men.  I learned from these comic books my morality, such as it is, and despite their glaring unreality, these heroes and their adventures were very real for me.  The fact is that I didn't live near any of my friends growing up, and summertime was very long indeed.  I needed friends and these four-color pages filled that need nicely.

Some people, knowing of my misspent comic book youth, have seemed amazed that I haven't seen the Avengers nor any of the other movies leading up to it, except Captain America.  The fact is the past is very much in the past, and these movies are a decade or two too late.  

As for Cap, he and I go way back.  Only his close friends call him "Cap".  He helped me through many a lonely summer and seeing his movie, well, it was the least I could do for an old friend.  

The following are brief bits on comic books and their lasting effects on my life.

You Wouldn't Like Me When I'm Angry

I took an online "What Superhero Are You?" quiz and was surprised that I am, at least according to this particular source, the Incredible Hulk.  I had my heart set on Superman.  The more I though about it the more it seemed fitting.  I, too, have a lousy temper and am prone to blow-ups.  My communication skills could use a little work, and my wardrobe is a pretty shabby.  

I only read the Hulk comic briefly as a boy, but remember in particular several issues in which the Hulk underwent a weird sort of psychiatric treatment by the green-haired super-powered therapist Doc Samson.  The troubled mind of the Hulk's alter-ego Bruce Banner was explored, and only now can I see myself as akin to him in that we both suffer from self-esteem issues and should probably talk about our feelings more at the outset rather than bottling it all inside.  This first issue climaxed with Bruce accepting the Hulk as part of himself, eventually transforming in a graphic way.  Rather than simply growing and turning green, the Hulk actually tore through the skin of Bruce Banner, shredding his flesh like newspaper.  It was bloody and strange and I've had dreams about it ever since.

As we all know, Bruce is in love with Betty Ross, but the two have never really been able to work it out, being as he was the Hulk and her father wanted to kill the Hulk. Her father was just generally a douche.  Another issue ended with Bruce rushing to a train station from which Betty was leaving for an unknown place.  Being just plain human Bruce, he couldn't run fast enough to catch the train before it left and for the first time in his life actually wanted to become the Hulk.  He slapped himself and tried to make himself angry with painful childhood memories, but it didn't work.  Betty, as it turns out, got off the train somewhere down the line and was walking back when she saw Bruce.  The two of them embracing joyfully is another image burned into my mind.  

Just because I'm the Hulk doesn't mean I can't be sentimental, too.

Rooting For the Bad Guy

A friend from Barnes and Noble told me once of a regular customer of hers, a young boy who preferred villains to heroes.  He would pick Doctor Doom over Captain America and looked forward to Halloweens in which he'd dress up like his favorite bad guys.  

This is interesting to me.  Despite my love for Superman, the fact is I resemble Lex Luthor more closely and, let's be honest, have more in common with a bald sociopath than a super-powered alien.

Villains aren't emotionally involved with anything beyond their own success or failure.  The Joker shows maniacal glee up until the point at which Batman defeats him, and then he shows despair or furious frustration.  Batman, however, remains stoic and constant throughout.  Again, I can relate more to someone prone to failure than someone who never encounters it.  

I know what it's like to get my ass kicked.

Villains are indifferent to feminine charms and rarely let women dupe them or ensnare them the way heroes sometimes do.  Both the Joker and Lex Luthor typically have attractive henchwomen about, gun molls who either love them and are spurned for it or scoff at their fiendish plans while filing their nails.  More often than not, when the hero arrives, the women turn on their "masters" like rabid animals.  Rarely do you see a villain in a loving and committed relationship with a woman who stands by his side as Superman hauls him off to jail.  I suppose this a weakness as well.  

Superhero/supervillain relationships are the ultimate in dysfunction.  "I'll get you next time" the villain says, thwarted though he may be.  Though I love the heroes, sometimes I wish that threat would come to pass.  But if the hero was dead, what would the villain do?  Get a job?  Can you imagine the Joker selling real estate?  No, they need each other.  Love and hate and that invisible line between the two and buy the next issue because we never know for sure.  

It could happen.

Whatever Happened to the Blue Beetle?

I'm sure you've never heard of the Blue Beetle and I won't bother you with a biography.  Suffice it to say, he was a favorite of mine.  The Blue Beetle was one of the only superheros I know who had a weight problem. He had to work that much harder than his peers to stay in tight spandex-friendly shape and I can relate.  It's hard to avoid baked goods after a long week of fighting crime.  Sometimes you need a sugar rush to stay in the game, but the Blue Beetle had to abstain.  This must have sucked for him, because I know it sucks for me.    

You'll notice I'm speaking of him in the past tense.  That's because in an issue some years ago, The Blue Beetle was shot in the head and killed.  This upset me and it was then I started to realize that comic books had changed.  Or maybe that I had changed.

Comic books were, when I was a kid, geared towards kids.  Mostly to young boys.  Comics are now geared towards guys my age or a little younger.  There is more intense sex and violence now, and I won't get into that being right or wrong, but I don't think that kids that are now the age I was when I discovered comics should be reading comics at all.  

If these kids knew what they were missing they would be ticked off.  Can you imagine being a child, going to the park, and not being able to get on the swing set or the monkey bars because a bunch of twenty and thirty year olds were hogging all the fun?  That's kind of what it's like.  Comic books have been hi-jacked from the kids who deserve and need them by a bunch of guys who just can't seem to grow up and shake the habit.

Guys like me, I guess.  

I love the comics of my youth more now than ever.  I talk about them and blog about them.  Probably too much.  But turning my back on them would be like turning my back on an old friend that doesn't fit in with my new friends.  

It would be like not being upset that the Blue Beetle is dead.

I wish that all the kids running around today could have the joy that I had when I was their age.  Loving and appreciating the heroes of my past is the right thing to do, and what little I know of the right thing to do I learned from those heroes.

That's corny, I know, but what can I say?  

I grew up reading comic books.

This blog is dedicated in loving memory to Ted Kord, a.k.a. the Blue Beetle.  

     

    

                  

PAUL STERLING FOR PREZ, or "I'll Politic For YOU, Baby!"

I have never really had any desire to seek public office.  

That's pretty much all I have to say about that.  

There is, however, a long history of fictional characters and otherwise completely unqualified entertainers that would regularly conduct presidential campaigns.  These brave souls included, but are not limited to comedian Pat Paulsen from the Smothers Brothers Show, Walt Kelly's "Pogo", Bozo the Clown, Ronald Reagan, and I remember an issue of Captain America in which he considered running for the highest office in the land.  Heck, he would've had my vote.

I thought today what my campaign would be like if I were running for President.  It would go a little something like this.  

Hail to the Chief

My fellow Americans.

It is with great humility that I come to you today and announce my candidacy for President of the United States.  I'm sure this may come as a great surprise to many of you, but not as big a surprise as it is to me.  I don't know what the hell I'm thinking.  

Some of you might ask:  "Just who is this Paul Sterling? I've never heard of him.  What are his qualifications?" 

My only reply can be: "I'm not sure I know just who you are, either, and what are your qualifications to ask for my qualifications?  Pipe down while I'm talking.  It'll be your turn soon enough."

With these petty matters aside we can now get down to brass tacks.  Just what am I going to do about the problems that face this great nation of ours?  That's a good question, and a fine place to start.

Just give me a minute...

I understand we have a problem with jobs.  There are a lot of people who want one and don't have one.  There are a lot of people who have one don't really enjoy the one they've got.  There are still more who don't have a job and are perfectly happy that way, so for beginners, let's just leave this last group alone.  As for everybody else, maybe some of the people who have jobs they don't like could swap jobs with someone else who has a job they might prefer.  Or maybe they could swap with some of the people who don't have one and just go jobless for a while.  They might like it.  I know this might get a little confusing at first, but what I'm basically saying is this job problem is one that I'm sure we can figure out, okay?

Moving right along...

I also understand that there are several wars going on.  Some of the wars we are directly involved in, and that's a shame.  There are other wars going on that we don't have a hand in at all.  For starters, let's not try and get involved in any of the wars that don't immediately involve us.  Not just yet anyway.  Let's watch the wars for a little bit, see which way it's going, and then after it looks like somebody is definitely going to win, we jump in on their side.  I know this might sound a little wussy, but it's smart.  We've won enough wars.  We've got a good rep in that department.

Now that we've got that settled...

Anybody could tell you that economically we're in the toilet.  Let's face it.  Anybody could tell you that, but I'll bet you that whomever tells you that is just as lousy at math as I am, so stop listening to just anybody.  Let's get some really smart people in there and take a look at the books and get a final decision once and for all just how far down into the toilet the economy is.  I recommend Nancy, who works for H&R Block and did my taxes the past couple years.  She's one sharp cookie.  

We've got other problems too.  A lot of what you might perceive as a problem depends on which of our two political parties you're affiliated with.  If you're a Republican, not being allowed to hunt game with a rocket launcher is a problem for you, as well as border security, and gay couples being allowed to eat openly together at Chick Fil A.  If you're a Democrat, your problems will be that your local grocery store only has three different kinds of hummus, or that vegan unwed mothers aren't allowed in front line combat, or maybe you just don't like the way people treat trees and shrubs.  And why do they call it a "party" anyway?  Neither group seems like they're having any fun at all.   

Basically what I'm saying is there are a whole hell of a lot of problems out there.  Jeez, are there a lot of problems.  Just dozens of them.  And here I am trying to put myself in charge of solving them.  

You know what?  Vote for whomever you want.  Me or any of the other folks running.  You might even have fewer problems four years later, but I doubt it.  Problems are like that old monster from Greek myth.  You know, the Hydra.  You'd cut off one head and another two would sprout right back up.  Doesn't that freak you out?

Anyway, thanks for your time.  Have a good one.  

Oh.  And God bless America.