My first issue of 2000AD comic was prog 20, cover dated 9th of July, 1977. I bought it from the other newsagent in Shipston's main square, the darker, slightly weirder place run by the bloke who resembled something from Planet of the Apes. I was immediately hooked, then found out that Peter Empson had been reading it from the beginning and was willing to swap his collection of eighteen back issues (minus the second one, in case anyone is doing the calculations) for a big stack of copies of the Topper.
I stopped reading in October 1980, having become somewhat burned out with the more shitey regular stories - Mean Arena, Meltdown Man, and Judge Dredd treading water with crap such as The Secret Diary of Adrian Cockroach Aged 13½ Months.
In January 1986, Nick Scullard gave me a massive stack of back issues, actually most of those I'd missed since 1980. He gave them to me because his collection had been transformed into a damp tower of clay following a thorough soaking when the pipes in his house burst during a freeze. He couldn't face dealing with it, so I dried them out on a radiator, one page at a time, managing to salvage nearly all of them and thus bringing me up to date with the galaxy's greatest comic, albeit in slightly wobbly, water-damaged form. It looked as though the comic had picked up somewhat since October 1980, and so I resumed my weekly purchase; which I continued until some point during 1991, at which point I once again lost interest. Contributing factors included: artists who couldn't actually draw; Garth Ennis imaginatively writing a story featuring a violent character called Tarantino who swears a lot; Garth Ennis sending Judge Dredd to Ireland where he meets an Irish Judge who enjoys a lovely pint of Guinness, so he does; Armoured Gideon; Dead Meat featuring Inspector Raam; Jamie fucking Hewlett; Armoured Gideon again; artists writing the names of their fave bands on walls in the background of the strip; Brigand Doom, but mainly because the name was stupid; comic strips which wished they were in Deadline.
While I have a lot of love for the cream of 2000AD, I try not to think about the ropey stuff, which is difficult because there has been one fuck of a lot of it. I've bought the occasional issue since but have seen nothing to entice me back to the fold. Therefore, writing from a position of extensive ignorance, here is my postdiction of stories which will have appeared in the galaxy's greatest since I decided I couldn't read any more back in 1991 or thereabouts. I feel confident that at least three of these, which I've just made up, have actually appeared in the comic.
A postdiction is like a prediction but instead refers to something which has already happened, in case you were wondering.
Comic Rock: Sailing. Nemesis the Warlock, which was wonderful, began life as Comic Rock, an occasional series of one-off strips somehow inspired by something in the hit parade of the day in an endearingly wrong-footed effort to get down with the kids. What this actually meant was that the strips were named after Going Underground by the Jam and an unlistenable television advertised heavy rock compilation whilst making no other concession to the sources of their alleged inspiration; which was probably for the best given that Killer Watt, the unlistenable compilation in question, featured Ted Nugent. The notional third episode of Comic Rock was inspired by the song Sailing as recorded by Rod Stewart, which was a tune that the kids on the streets were digging at the time. The story featured arch villain Torquemada in a boat, beneath which Nemesis the Warlock swims, drilling a hole in the bottom so that it sinks. Credo!
Donna Kebab. This was another Pat Mills' tale of a quick-witted underdog fighting an overpowering authoritarian state whilst striking adjacent blows against sexism, racism, and people who aren't down with the kids or who tell kids what to do but don't know nuffink. Donna Kebab is set in a future society modelled on that of ancient Greece. Mills boldly defies racism by writing for a cast of exclusively Hellenic ethnicity, here defined in terms which will be familiar to anyone who ever bought or ate a doner kebab, ingeniously subverting expectations by mocking those who engage with other cultures only through cheap fast food. Donna sports a large moustache in defiance of sexual stereotyping, and makes frequent comedic expressions of her support for Arsenal football team by exclaiming up the Arse!, just like Harry Enfield from about a million years ago. She also wields a powerful technological sword made from a shish kebab rotisserie, and takes counsel from the spirit of Plato, the ancient philosopher, to whom she irreverently refers as Play-Doh.
Metal Guru. He was a robot and he gave out spiritual advice to those who sought to understand the meaning of existence, but then someone pushed him too far by asking a question so stupid that it blew his ancient wisdom circuits, sending him on a killing spree across New Afghanistan. Once the clever wordplay of the title had been established, the strip was mostly about squads of the Spiritual Guru Containment Unit attempting and failing to take down the Metal Guru as he rampaged through towns and cities, twisting heads off whilst screaming his catchphrase, Enlightenment!
My Groovy Edwardian Hat. This strip, named after Vanilla Traction Engine's 1968 hit single, was written and drawn by Brendan McCarthy and was heavy on its use of disembodied shoes with pairs of eyes seen peering from within. It seemed to be focussed on a character called Twitchy, although Twitchy was actually absent from six of the eight episodes. To date, no-one has been able to explain what happened in My Groovy Edwardian Hat, let alone what the fuck it was supposed to be about.
Slapheads. Future sport was never this tough, possibly excepting previous examples of Roy of the Rovers dressed up as Rollerball; but Slapheads was different in so much as that it was named after an insulting term for bald people, because it just fucking was, okay? The game featured a mix of genetically modified humans and surgically altered convicts whose arms had been replaced by giant flippers, and their objective was to score points by quite literally slapping one another about the head for the edification of a braying audience of bloodthirsty spectators all filming it on their phones. Unsurprisingly, the manager was up to something fishy involving sponsorship money taken from a bald wig manufacturer, and that's mainly what the story was about.
Steam Iron. Introducing the splendiferous escapades of that most delightful mechanical sleuth and adventurer, Professor Pistlethwaite's Patented Detection Engine Model No. 14, additionally known and recognised in the court of Her Royal Highness Queen Victoria by his more colloquial sobriquet, Steam Iron on account of the means by which his mechanism is afforded energy and momentum, the material of his construction, and - by way of a third meaning implicit in the combination of the two words - his pronounced and enthusiastic homosexuality as demonstrated by his adopting many of the delightful mannerisms of Mr. Wilde, the playwright. Most likely written by Dan Abnett, because why wouldn't it be?
Strontium Cat. Behind the ingenious wordplay of the title, Strontium Cat constituted a further expansion of the Strontium Dog mythology, this time fixing upon a time-travelling bounty hunter, stranded in 1930's New York, getting by with just his wits, his catlike mutant senses, and his not inconsiderable chops as a jazz saxophonist. Fate conspires to land him a weekly gig playing with Zoot Jellyroll's quartet at the Blue Tiger down on the lower east side, and then it's a slow decline as the strip's creators gradually exhaust their already slender stock of jazz references.
Sweet & Sour. This was another Pat Mills' tale of quick-witted underdogs fighting an overpowering authoritarian state whilst striking adjacent blows against sexism, racism, and people who aren't down with the kids or who tell kids what to do but don't know nuffink. Sweet & Sour is set in a future society modelled on that of ancient China. Mills boldly defies racism by writing for a cast of exclusively Chinese ethnicity, here defined in terms which will be familiar to anyone who ever bought or ate a Chinese takeaway, ingeniously subverting expectations by mocking those who engage with other cultures only through cheap fast food. Clementine Sweet sports a long moustache whilst Brett Sour wears a traditional lady's cheongsam in defiance of sexual stereotyping, and their victories are celebrated with verses of the Ying Tong Song, just like Spike Milligan from about a million years ago. Sweet also wields a powerful technological sword made from chopsticks, and takes counsel from the spirit of Confucius, the ancient philosopher, to whom she irreverently refers as Mr. Confusing. Come to think of it, this one might have been Mark Millar.
Terrible Planet. After Death Planet, Deadly Planet, Hell Planet and all of the others, what adjectives were left? The futuristic colonists of Terrible Planet have fled an ecologically devastated Earth in search of a new life amongst the stars, hoping to make Agamemnon IV their new home; but there's one problem - Agamemnon IV is, quite frankly, terrible. It rains a lot, and everywhere you go there's a faint smell of sulphur, like someone farted, and it always seems kind of chilly considering how near the planet is to its sun; and there's this island where you can't walk ten paces without falling over, and no-one can work out why. Even Doctor Steiner can't explain it, although to be honest he doesn't seem to know much for a scientist. Only the other day they were talking about music and Steiner was surprised when someone told him that the Sex Pistols - a group from ancient Earth history - hadn't been able to read sheet music. 'But how then were they able to play their instruments?' he had asked, incredulous.
Tough of the Time Track. Puzzling reboot of an old character from Victor, this time snatching Alf Tupper from his traditional twentieth century background and obliging him to compete in the trans-temporal games against runners from ancient Rome, caveman times, outer space, Nazi Germany and elsewhen, most of whom seem to share the same knowing sense of humour as a media studies student living above a barber's shop in Camden Town. This one was drawn by an artist who once produced a fifty page cartoon strip entirely about her own vagina, and Alf is consequently a somewhat changed character. He still fucking loves his chips, but now considers them something of a guilty pleasure. Also, his fave band is Vant.
No comments:
Post a Comment