Mister Miracle #15-17--“The Real Big Barda”/”Super Trouble”/ “Murder Lodge”

WHEN NO ONE ELSE WOULD COME, SHILO, YOU ALWAYS CAME…

The transformation of Mister Miracle into a standard-issue DC superhero sort of worked, and sort of didn’t. In a sense, yeah, he fit in from the start—a relatively angst-free, iconic character surrounded by assitants and a faithful Girl Friday/unacknowledged love interest. Even the fact that he’s literally a “god” plays into the common perception of DC’s characters as mythological entities. And yet…this was still a Kirby book, and as a result it almost couldn’t help sticking out.

DC, in the 70s, was in a bit of an awkward spot. Despite what a lot of people assume, Marvel didn’t outpace DC in the sales department until the very end of the 60s; in fact, DC’s fatal flaw was in underestimating this upstart company. For most of this era, DC continued to grind out the kind of goofy, kid-oriented stories we associate with the Silver Age…and they were rewarded for it. Marvel’s audience skewed older and was more passionate about their product, whereas DC was a reliable publisher of ephemeral entertainment for young kids. In fact, I’ve actually heard it suggested that DC’s mistake was abandoning this kid’s stuff in the first place, that while Marvel’s growing popularity would have outstripped them anyway, DC could have continued to corner the younger kid’s market and thus weathered the storm up until the present day. Certainly, by the 80s, DC was regaining a bit of its luster by writing old-fashioned, optimistic, (mostly) kid-friendly superhero stories, thus distinguishing themselves from the increasingly “grim ‘n’ gritty” Marvel.

But in the 70s, it seemed that a change was needed, yet none of the top brass at this old-school, incredibly square publisher knew exactly what that was. Some interesting DC comics came out of this era, many of them involving Neal Adams, but it was the wrong time to launch new books; Marvel had had the advantage of being a small, scrappy publisher under the Aegis of an artist-friendly management during a time of relative economic stability, whereas DC was a conservative publisher with a fusty brand that hadn’t been updated in decades, hitting the skids during a time when a revolution in youth culture was affecting all areas of entertainment. They needed a new direction, but they couldn’t afford to stick with the new and more experimental books that might have carried them in the long term. And The Fourth World was a victim of that.

Still, it’s kind of weird to watch Mister Miracle regress to the point of gaining a kid sidekick--possibly the last superhero ever to try and use this schtick to appeal to new readers. I guess the fact that the kid in question was black was supposed to provide a new, hip take on the old formula, but it was still a bad idea, and I doubt it was Kirby’s. He may have been an old hand even then, but his work was all about looking to the future, not rehashing old, formerly-successful conceits.

At any rate, with issue #15 we meet Mister Miracle Jr., Shilo Norman. Incidentally, this issue doesn’t seem to have an official title, but it’s broken into chapter headings, one of which—“The Real Big Barda”—is referenced in the previous issue as the overall title, so that’s the one I’m going with. (Did that make sense? Because that title sure doesn’t.)

I mentioned earlier that I felt Kirby improved as a writer as he went on…but this particular issue sees him backsliding something awful into his “tell, don’t show” habits of the earlier issues. The first couple of chapters each open with a narration box that seems to pitch the concept of the story to us, like we were studio executives:

“Although this incident contains the bizarre elements that characterize the exploits of our hero, this is essentially a detective saga—the fast and thrilling attempt to stop a crime about to be committed in the wildest way with the wildest weapons.” (That’s all [sic]. Kirby has discovered periods.)

A police detective named Driver arrives, young Shilo in tow, at Mister M’ house as he rehearses his latest stunt: to escape from a metal cylinder before it’s crushed in a giant nutcracker wielded by Barda. And yes, the symbolism of Scott’s super-strong girlfriend wielding a nutcracker is not lost on me. By the way, Barda here is wearing an outfit that evokes her classic red metal bikini:



…But she changes back to street clothes pretty fast. Seriously, was this an editorial edict? An early example of “depowering the heroine so as not to make girl-fearing geeks nervous”?

Anyway, Scott escapes (yawn) and Driver, after dutifully registering his astonishment, explains why he’s here. Shilo is a witness to a murder—that of his own brother, as it turns out—and his testimony will be crucial in bringing down a local mobster named Mister Fez. Fez is clearly in with Intergang, though with the Fourth World stuff being played down as heavily as it was at this point, it’s never explicitly mentioned. Given Shilo’s importance, they obviously would like to rub him out, something they attempt to do almost immediately, with an anonymous hooded mobster chucking a grenade in through the window. Shilo shows his spunk by picking it up and throwing it back again, but the grenade doesn’t go off—Scott already neutralized it with his hidden gadgetry and blah blah blah. The point is, Shilo’s got spunk, and Scott and co. are obviously capable of protecting him.

Meanwhile, we meet Mr. Fez:



He’s building a gigantic gun that will “jam the brains” of the hotel residents next door, enabling him to loot their pockets while they’re unconscious. Shilo’s brother was one of their drivers, who saw too much of what they were doing—that’s why he had to be killed.

Back at Casa Del Free, Shilo is somewhat grumpily being put to bed, but Scott and Barda suspect something’s up, and wait outside his door. Sure enough, Shilo does the old tie-the-bedsheets-together dodge and escapes out the window, headed out to confront his brother’s murderers. Obviously this is a deliberate “don’t Narc to the police” moment, which is a nice bit of characterization, but it’s still pretty suicidal on Shilo’s part, even if we are hastily informed that he’s a Judo expert. Fortunately, Scott and Barda are on his tail, and pitch in to help him clean up the assortment of faceless hoods. Less fortunately, the heroic duo are promptly taken out by a smaller brain-jamming gun (Wielded by a guy named, um, Jammer) and Shilo is strapped across the barrel of the huge cannon. Oh no! They’re going to…brain-jam…his torso…to death!

Um, that part my not have been too well-thought-out.

At this point I don’t even have to mention that Scott and Barda were only pretending to be unconscious, do I? And Scott used his circuitry to block the brain-jamming? And that Barda saves the day by ripping up the cannon, while Scott disarms Mr. Fez? Oh yes indeed:



Yes, Scott. You’re special. You’re very, very special. Good for you.

Anyway, the cops arrive to mop up the scene, and despite some simmering resentment, Shilo sees that Mr. M and Barda saved his ass, so he agrees to be Scott’s apprentice and learn the escape arts… “Lieutenant Driver—I think you’ve bullied Shilo into a career!” proclaims Scott. And on that happy note, we end the issue.



OK, this is a really weird one. Shilo is getting his first lesson in escape artistry when he sees, well, this:



…When did Scott become such a prick? “Yeah, yeah, Shilo. Giant insect-man, standing right behind me. You crazy murder-witnessing ghetto kids are always having elaborate hallucinations, aren’t you? Ha ha! But it’s nothing I can’t casually dismiss for no particular reason, despite all the insanely weird stuff I’ve encountered over the course of my brief career.”

As is required by this kind of scenario, none of the others believe Shilo, either. The insect-thing materializes and dematerializes several times, and Shilo gets so frustrated that he…somehow escapes from the hand-shackles Scott had put him in. Distracted momentarily by his success, Shilo forgets what jerks the others are being…until the bug materializes again and ropes in Barda and Oberon before disappearing. With them gone, Scott starts to take Shilo a little more seriously. Playing a hunch, he activates some circuitry in his glove and detects some nearby “infinitely tiny footprints”—you see, the bug-thing is rapidly growing and shrinking, rather than teleporting, and it’s shrunk Oberon and Barda down to near-microscopic size.

Wait…Scott got all that on a “hunch”? After not believing a word of it a moment ago? That’s some hunch!

The next time the insect appears, Shilo jumps him and is shrunk down alongside him. He manages to overpower the bug with his patented, Austin Powers-style Judo CHOP, but it gets away and now Shilo’s lost in a subterranean world of bug-people.

Um…I’ll spare you the gory details. Shilo uses his various newly-acquired gadgets to fight off various bug-monsters, until he comes face to face with this guy:



Yes, a tiny mad scientist who’s breeding bug people is the culprit. Of course.

He traps Shilo by the novel trick of enlarging him until he’s pinned by the tunnel, unable to move. Professor Egg then steals his superior molecules to use in another one of his insectile creations, one which hatches looking like this:



Yes, I’m pretty sure that’s supposed to be an Afro.

You can see how this is going to play out, right? Shilo escapes and vanquishes the bug that kinda looks like him, thereby demonstrating his worth as a budding escape artist and overcoming his symbolic shadow-self. Right?

Well, no. What actually happens is that…it all turns out to be a dream.

Yes. Seriously. He banged his head on some crates while he was leaping around, chasing the giant bug, and everything since has just been a dream. But wait—if that part was all in Shilo’s head, what about the giant bug itself?

Oh, you’re not going to believe this. Turns out they have a visitor:



So…he thought the polite thing to do would be to torment Shilo with visions of giant insects before they’d even been properly introduced? And how did Shilo see him in his visions before they’d even met? Or was the whole dream part of Professor “Exe”’s little gag as well? Because that’s one elaborately nasty prank to pull on a kid. And is that supposed to explain why Scott and co. were all blowing him off before? Damn, Shilo, you were right to run away from home last issue.

Another interesting point—again we have elements of the Fourth World showing up without being acknowledged as such. In this case, it’s the Evil Factory/Brigadoom all over again, except this time it’s a totally different evil scientist creating genetic horrors in a microscopic hideout. And, leave us not forget, this time it’s just a dream. Never forget that.



Think that was contrived? Would you believe that the next issue is even more so? Albeit in a hilarious, rather than infuriating, way?

The series seemed to be regressing as it went, to the point where Kirby’s now swiping from Abbot and Costello movies. Mister Miracle, Barda and Shilo once again blunder into danger, this time while their car breaks down in the middle of a tour. Of course this happens in a backwoods somewhere, and of course it’s run by this guy:



He’s just a sweet transvestite from Transexual, Transylvania.

Shilo makes the connection that widow’s peak + heavy eyebrows + devil beard + rubbing hands together in anticipation = EEEEEEEEEEVIL, but Barda admonishes him for judging people by their appearance. Ah, yes, but Barda, you’re in a comic book. Of course people who look evil turn out to be evil. By the way, note the classic “if we have the characters point out how clichéd this is, it’s not clichéd anymore!” trope.

In fact, no sooner have they laid down in their beds than Barda is electrocuted and Scott is dumped down a chute. Shilo, who with his RAMPANT PARANOIA avoided getting into bed right away, is spared long enough for the sinister dude—his name’s Peppi, believe it or not—to come barging in and start swiping at him with a sledgehammer. Shilo puts him out with a judo CHOP and then finds himself running a gamut of traps, proving that he finally did learn something about escape artistry. Finally, he’s thrown into the “Inferno Room”, which is basically a gigantic, fiery oven, by Peppi’s hulking assistant, Mungo. Shilo escapes, unconvincingly, by using his jet boots to instantly put out the roaring inferno (somehow he’s not troubled by the metal walls, which must have been white-hot even after the flames went out). He escapes and frees Scott and Barda.

Meanwhile, we check in with Peppi and Mungo, and we learn exactly what’s going on here. See, they run this motor lodge as a trap for runaway mob informants, and they kill them and collect the contracts the crime syndicates put out on them (so they’re Intergang agents, again, sort of). But…the motor lodge is said to be in the middle of nowhere. I can’t imagine sitting there in the middle of nowhere, hoping that people who are wanted by the mob will just happen to blunder in, was a particularly lucrative business until now. But if you think coincidences are starting to lay a little thick on the ground, wait until you see this:



Yes. Seriously. You saw that.

Peppi and Mungo were actually angling for a criminal gang who just happen to consist of an Amazonian brunette, an African-American dwarf, and a bandaged guy who sort of resembles Mr. Miracle. Unbelievable. It’s more and more clear to me that Kirby was using plots he’d conceived of before the order came down to prune the Fourth World elements, because just having Peppi and Mungo be Intergang agents would have allowed them to try and whack Mr. M, no further explanation necessary.

But then, of course, this issue wouldn’t have been anywhere near as gloriously insane.

Mister Miracle and his coterie burst in, Peppi puts out the lights, and a three-way battle ensues, involving a lot of blind firing with tommy-guns. Mister M. gets to do the only thing that comes close to an actual escape by dodging “Mad Merkin”’s bullets and rounding up Peppi (and Mungo, off panel). Shilo socks Little Bullets, and Barda takes on Della with a filing cabinet:



Thus it is that the police arrive to find “a festival of felons!” tied up and ready to be imprisoned. And they would have got away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for you meddling kids!

…

As you can see, Shilo pretty much took over the book for these three issues. Again, I suspect this was an example of the editors flailing around a bit desperately—“Marvel has all these hip books with kid protagonists! Do that!” Although that doesn’t really explain why the teen-oriented Forever People were cancelled—but maybe their whole flower power schtick was seen as out-of-date in ‘73. At any rate, even with only three issues of a failing book, Shilo became an established figure in the DCU, popping up here and there over the years. Most recently, in Grant Morrison’s Seven Soldiers miniseries, Shilo has actually become the new Mister Miracle and is a huge, worldwide celebrity, while Scott and the other New Gods have all mysteriously gone missing (which is thematically appropriate, given Shilo’s role in the original series). Like many other Fourth World elements, Shilo’s apparently playing a major role in the current “Final Crisis”.

But back to 1973. With only one issue of Mister Miracle left, it would seem the whole enterprise was about to end with a whimper rather than a bang. Fortunately, Kirby was able to give his characters something resembling a proper send-off…

Mister Miracle #12-14--"Mystivac"/"The Dictator's Dungeon"/"The Quick and the Dead!"

WELL, NOW IT'S JUST ANOTHER COMIC ABOUT TALKING POLYNESIAN IDOLS AND GOOGLE-EYED SATANISTS.

So here it is: the beginning of Mr. Miracle’s ignominious descent into (gasp) (choke) working for a living.

The comic lasted another seven issues beyond The New Gods and The Forever People, but it took a distinctly different tack. From this point on—except for the final issue—Mister Miracle was transformed into a far more conventional superhero book. And a DC superhero book, no less. That means less sprawling continuity, angst, and edginess and more arbitrary standalone adventures involving Scott foiling the schemes of bizarre but solidly terrestrial supervillains. Oh, and a teen sidekick. But we’ll get to that.

Since the Fourth World doesn’t play much of a role in these next six issues, I’m going to run through them fairly quickly. That’s not to say they’re totally devoid of interest, though. Take issue 12, “Mystivac”. It seems to have just as much to say about where Kirby was at this point in his life as many other Fourth World stories…which, with his most personal project slowly withering on the vine, was not a good place. So it’s not surprising that here, for the first time, we get a villain who actually hatches a credible scheme to defeat Scott Free. “Credible” in comic book terms, of course.

The issue starts with Scott escaping from a torpedo before it impacts its target, as shown on the cover. As usual, Oberon and everyone else makes a lot of worried noise before Scott turns up, safe and sound, in the water. Yawn. What’s more interesting is that Ted Brown, Mr. M’s new manager, has apparently persuaded an entire naval base to participate in this publicity stunt. What the hell, the Vietnam war just ended, it’s not like they had anything better to do, right?

Also as usual, Mr. Miracle is being observed by a hostile presence—in this case, supremely rich sportsman and gambler named Colonel Darby. You know he’s rich and nefarious, because he’s a colonel. He has a butler and a limo. He wears a monocle.

Even in 1972, this strikes me as some incredibly clichéd and lazy characterization. However, to give Kirby credit, I have a sneaking suspicion that Darby was a last-minute replacement for Funky Flashman. Like Darby, Flashman has a loyal manservant, is fanatically greedy, comes up with crackpot schemes, and probably has it out for Scott specifically after what happened last time. But, like I say, Mr. Miracle seemed to be sloughing off its existing continuity to be more “commercial”, so no Funky. Normally I’d bemoan this, but one dose of Funky is probably all any of us ever needed.

So anyway, Colonel Darby’s plan is simple: now that Scott’s making a name for himself as an infallible escape artist, he’s going to place a substantial wager against him and fix one of his escapes. How is he going to do this? Via Mystivac:



Before we can learn more about this bizarre being, we have a bit of low comedy back on the base—seems that the Female Furies are busily mopping up the sailors for making passes at them:



Waaah-waaaah.

Now it’s time for the Colonel to put his plan into operation, by having Mystivac place a phone call:



Yes, Mystivac has the power to command people with his voice. Again, there’s a possible thematic link to earlier issues that’s been severed: Mystivac’s power seems an awful lot like the Anti-Life Equation. What’s more, he’s using it against Scott, the very symbol of freedom and irrepressibility, and subconsiously implanting within him a death wish—which for once gives us reason to think Scott might actually flub an escape. Indeed, during his next rehearsal with the Furies, Scott moves so sluggishly that he would have been crushed by a boulder if Barda hadn’t leapt in to block it with her body.



What I want to know is, given how many times they’ve been convinced Scott was done for, how did Barda know that THIS time was the one where she had to intervene? Though, thinking about it, Barda always tended to have faith in Scott before…so actually, I guess that’s a nice bit of characterization. On a side note, notice how Barda’s wearing civvies here? For some reason, she’s abandoned her bikini/armour combo, and never wears it again for the length of the series. Apparently another aspect of Mr. Miracle’s “New direction” was an attempt to conceal that Barda was a superhero, too, downgrading her to Scott’s girlfriend and assistant. She still has her super-strength, though, so I’m not sure what the point is.

Anyway, Colonel Darby makes his deal with Ted Brown, then places he and Scott’s other pals under his power. Scott escapes, but he’s still got that lingering death wish slowing him down as Mystivac attacks. By the way, check out this panel:



Not only does he have Wolverine’s claws, they make almost the same noise! John Byrne must have been reading this series…

Anyway, Scott fights back, mentally, with the help of Motherbox, and defeats Mystivac, leading to the bizarre revelation that he’s a tiny alien in an exosuit, like that Men in Black guy:



Darby attempts to cheat once more and knock off Scott via a handgun, but Scott gets the drop on him, and all ends well. Ted actually decides to turn down their winnings, since it left such a bad taste in all their mouths—even though it seems like they well and truly earned it.

You’d think that this battle for Scott’s subconscious would be a bigger deal, thematically—and in fact, I wonder if Kirby had something like this planned as a dramatic climax later on. But here, it becomes a symbolic struggle for Kirby’s own soul. Replace “death wish” with a desire to sell out (a theme referenced throughout the book as it is) and you realize that the real point is Scott attempting to retain his own identity in the face of pressure from the people who control the purse strings. Is Scott and Ted’s decision to turn down the money Kirby’s way of declaring his independence? Or is it an example of letting his characters remain pure in a way that just wasn’t possible in real life?



Issue 13, “The Dictator’s Dungeon”, sees Ted abducted by a hovering vehicle right in the middle of one of Scott’s escapes. He and Barda manage to come along for the ride, overpowering the ape-like pilots with oddly Oriental clothing. These, you see, are sentient Yetis from a lost kingdom in Tibet, ruled by one King Komodo, who has taken an interest in Ted for reasons unknown. Scott and Barda are ejected from the plane, but manage to land safely and make their way to the distant palace:



That panel is kind of baffling to me. As you may know, the Swastika actually originates in south Asia, where it’s a simple good-luck charm; the Nazis are the ones who appropriated it to their own ends. In other words, an oriental temple is a pretty likely place to find a Swastika, all things considered. I’d call this an example of ignorance on Kirby’s part, except it’s hard not to think that this issue was inspired by him glimpsing Swastika’s in some South Asian temple in the first place! But then why would he talk about how unusual it is to see them in Tibet? Did Kirby see a picture and just assume there were a bunch of escaped Nazi war criminals hiding in the Himalayas? …Or should I say…HIMMLER-LAYAS?!?

Sorry, I promise I won’t do that again.

Anyway, as it turns out, Scott’s right to be suspicious, as they then come across a Hindu-ized statue of Hitler as a god named “Dafura” (get it?). Ted confirms this when they catch up to him, though they’re then immediately knocked unconscious by some kind of force blast. Waking up in a tiny cell, Ted explains their predicament: “King Komodo” is in fact a Nazi war criminal named Albert Von Killowitz, who’s managed to use his technical genius to take over this remote valley and enslave the Yetis. “Dictator Komodo, is probably closer to the truth!” rages Scott, hilariously. Yeah, the nerve of this guy, portraying himself as a kindly, democracy-loving king when he’s really a murderous tyrant.

Von Killowitz attempts to kill them all by dumping acid from the ceiling of the cell, but Scott saves them by holding up his cape, which is treated to be acid-proof. Komodo/Killowitz decides to have some fun with Scott, and promises freedom for him and his friends if he can survive a series of escapes. Naturally Scott doesn’t expect him to keep his word, but he volunteers anyway, because, hey, he’s Mister Miracle.

The first trap comes while Scott is walking down a cylindrical corridor, only to dscover…HE’S IN A GIANT GUN!



Scott escapes, supposedly, by cutting through the barrel with his boot-lasers again, but come on!!! That’s a bullet in that panel, streaking towards him, about two inches away, and he hasn’t even begun to escape! “The timing must be faster than lightning!” thinks Scott as he wiggles free. Yeah, you’d think.

Scott next dodges a pendulum-axe before getting sick of this game and using his telepathy.



Wait…telepathy?!? Freaking telepathy?!? And it works, too, enslaving King Komodo to his will and allowing them all to leave abruptly, the now-passive Von Killowitz in tow. Seriously, what the hell, Kirby? I know your heart wasn’t in it at this point, but this is just insulting!

The issue wraps up with an even more abrupt explanation for why Von Killowitz wanted Ted—he had been in Korea (in the army, apparently) when he had been separated from his patrol, wound up in the Himalayas, and saved by a band of Mongols. Uh…Kirby apparently thought that Asia was about the size of Ireland for all those elements to exist within walking distance of each other. Anyway, the leader of the Mongols turned out to be Von Killowitz, who Ted immediately recognized. No doubt he had the “Nazi war criminal trading cards” as a kid. Von Killowitz, Herr Murderstein, Doktor Professor Stabenfunfel…collect ‘em all!

Anyway, Ted escaped somehow—we never find out how, because we’re out of pages—but Killowitz decided to track him down and eliminate him just to be on the safe side. Despite the fact that Ted hadn’t mentioned anything about his experience to anyone until now, and it was venturing forth that ended up getting him caught. Ah, the irony.

There’s some talk about how a weight has been lifted from Ted’s shoulders now that this affair is over. So apparently this is what’s been haunting him since he appeared. Uh, again, Ted, you could have just informed the authorities that there was a Nazi war criminal at large in Tibet at any time and spared yourself the angst. Oh well.




Finally, issue 14, a story which prompted one of my favourite lines ever from a comics review, from The Savage Critic’s Jeff Lester: “The whole thing is a bit like someone had tricked Fellini into directing an episode of Scooby-Doo.”

Like most issues of Mister Miracle from this late era, it begins with the characters simply blundering into some kind of nefarious plot, or having it come to them (I guess most of Mister Miracle’s enemies in the earlier issues came to him, as well, but there was a reason for that.) In this case, it’s a dude with a piñata for a head, running frantically away from a mob of creeps in robes and masks, who dogpile on the piñata guy and then basically ask Mister Miracle “What’re you looking at?” I love that they’re offended that anyone could find this bizarre in any way, shape or form.

One of the berobed types, this one not wearing a mask but incredibly creepy-looking anyway, throws a capsule (?) at MM and Obie, knocking them unconscious. Mister Miracle actually avoided the capsule’s effects, however, and just decided to lie on the ground watching them leave until Oberon came around. That’s what he says, anyway.

At any rate, the cult’s lair (because, naturally, it’s a cult of Satanists we’re talking about) turns out to be “only yards away”. Mister M’s approached is watched by the freaky dude from earlier and an even freakier woman with a terrible haircut. The designs here are incredibly creepy.

“Madame Evil Eyes”, as we shortly learn her name to be, greets Mister M. at the door with…laser beams that shoot from her eyes. These incapacitate Mr. M long enough to put him in, you guessed it, a deathtrap. He’s handed over to the grip of a gigantic stone idol…unless it’s actually supposed to be a living demon? It breathes fire on him, Mister Miracle gets out of it, blah blah blah. Though Mme. Evil Eyes’ gloating is pretty funny:



Yeah, Satan has such a good track record. And I love the sheer dowdiness of Mrs. EE. This whole thing is starting to remind me of this.

As a side note—what was it with comics and Satan in the 70s? It’s like comics had been holding their breath for a decade and a half, just waiting for a chance to get back to demons and skulls and grotesques they’d been indulging in before the comics code came down on them like a ton of bricks. I mean, I know The Exorcist was a hugely popular movie, and there were other devil-oriented movies both before and after, and that trend was bound to filter into comics, but there was so much enthusiasm for it. Heck, Kirby himself was already doing “The Demon” as a separate series at this point, which made it seem like an editorial mandate or something.

Escaping, MM and Obie stumble on the guy they originally saw trying to get away from the cult; Oberon has just enough time to recognize him as “’Ears’ Watson!--A top hood!” before a hand emerges from a secret panel and zap Ears with a freeze ray. Comics Code!

Some more uninteresting deathtrap shenanigans ensue before Mister Miracle gets the drop on Mrs. EE and unveil her as the head of a smuggling ring, with the satanic cult thing just a cover. Because nothing deflects the attention of the authorities like pretending to be a satanic cult. But uh-oh, the “Evil Eyes” gimmick is real, and the Madame isn’t going to refrain from using it on them:



You’ll be astonished to learn that Scott is able to combat this psychic attack with his usual array of gadgetry, and the two of them leave the supine Madame Evil Eyes to the authorities, as Scott thinks wistfully of Barda.

That’s actually the most memorable thing about this issue—there was a brief sequence I didn’t mention where we saw Barda examining her feelings for Scott, and now we see Scott reciprocating. Now, you may be saying, “Duh, of course they’re going to get together” but what’s funny is the way Kirby didn’t seem to have much interest in uniting the two romantically up until this point. It sure seems like he was headed in that direction eventually, and obviously the two had chemistry, but it was that kinda Mulder-Scully thing where it seemed like it was going to be more powerful for being unacknowledged by the characters. And it’s strange that we don’t have the two falling into a clinch until after the book devolved into a typical superhero yarn.

Mister Miracle #11--"The Greatest Show Off Earth!!"

MISTER MIRACLE SELLS OUT

So one of the things that I keep fixating on, when discussing Mr. Miracle, is the fact that we never seem to have any idea of just how he operates, on a professional level. Is he world-famous? Is he still making a name for himself? Does he shun the limelight? He certainly seems to prefer to do his escaping far from any potential audience, but there have also been throwaway references to charity events and so on. As I mentioned way back when, I get the distinct impression that Kirby was trying to make Scott as anti-materialistic as possible, in keeping with the counterculture vibe of the Fourth World. On the other hand, it also seems that he’s trying to make himself into a symbol, opposing the forces of Apokolips. Hence his bizarre, self-contradicting career of calling himself a performer while simultaneously keeping all his performances secret.

However, things are different now; as you may recall, Scott’s mentor Thaddeus Brown turned out to have spawned a son, Ted, who showed up on Scott’s doorstep last issue, hat in hand, planning to set himself up as his manager. His radical idea is to have Scott give “performances” to “audiences” in exchange for “money”.

What’s funny about this is that it corresponds with the slow decline of the Fourth World saga, and seems to represent, on some level, Kirby selling out his ideals. The Forever People also recently got jobs. Even Kirby was obviously figuring out that the 60s were over, and the materialistic 70s had begun. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this happened to overlap with the period in which Kirby started backing away from the more personal aspects of Mr. Miracle, turning it into “just another superhero book”. So it’s ironic that this is one element that actually improves the book, or at least causes it to make more sense.

At any rate, Ted Brown’s slick promotional idea is to make a demo tape of Mr. M doing his thing—along with Scott’s merry band of helpers, who have apparently officially expanded to include not only Ted, Oberon and Barda but the rest of the Female Furies, as well. They all get in on this act, which consists of Barda hefting a very tall pole with Scott balanced on top in restraints, Burnadeth igniting a pool of gasoline at its base, Lashina cracking the pole, Stompa kicking it over, and Ted taping the whole thing. While Mad Harriet, um, stands off to the side and cackles. Oh, and Oberon gets to wear a ridiculous costume and do his usual vital routine of yelling, “Work, Scott, work! Escape from that deathtrap! By which I mean, the thing which is in immediate danger of killing you!” And he gets to jabber on and on in this fashion via the magic of comics, in which huge word balloons can be crammed into a panel that realistically portrays the second or two it takes Scott to escape. Chris Claremont knows it! Now, so do you!

There’s the usual utterly predictable moment where all the characters think Scott’s bought it in his latest escape, but no, he’s still alive, yay, how surprising. What is nice is how Barda is the one character who has total faith in Scott’s ability to survive, even if she does lose track of him for a moment. “You kept your eye on the fire—instead of me!” winks Scott as he swings down from a nearby tree branch. “Nonsense! My eyes never left you!” retorts Barda. Oooh, methinks I detect a hint of romantic frisson between these two crazy kids.

In the meantime, though, Scott is being watched by an enemy, in the second most common trope of this series. In this case, it’s Doctor Bedlam again, or more precisely, one of his “animates”, the faceless robots which he uses as shells for his consciousness. I already mentioned how disappointing it is to me that the supposedly soulless and personality-less animates talk of their own volition, even when Bedlam’s not around, but hey, I think I’ll do it again. It’s the very embodiment of Kirby’s unfortunate tendency, which I assume he picked up from Stan Lee, to over-explain everything via text. (By the way, to skip ahead a little, Kirby does eventually grow out of this tendency…too bad it takes him over a decade.)

Anyway, again a single animate is seated and becomes the vessel for the Doctor, with much unnecessary exposition. He and his crew then immediately reveal the gigantic pseudo-UFO they’ve got hidden in the underbrush. “The Ceri-skiff!” Bedlam calls it. “Made to snare and kill Mister Miracle!!”

Meanwhile, Oberon is relaxing from his latest Mother Hen panic attack by admiring himself in the mirror:



Suddenly, his image turns ghastly…um, ghastlier, that is…and he finds himself in the grip of terrifying illusions once more. Scott rushes him and saves him by remaining calm and naming their visitor, at which point he withdraws. Um…I’m not sure why the Doctor bothered to attack Oberon, since the only thing he accomplished was to alert them to his presence. But I guess it’s a point of honour sorta thing…I mean, being a supervillain obviously isn’t about winning, so I guess it’s more to do with making an entrance.

Anyway, the Animates come bursting in and a fight ensues, one in which even Oberon gets to dismantle one of them—naturally the Furies make short work of them as a group. And once more, the Animates just can’t shut the hell up, announcing loudly their intention to destroy Scott’s Mother Box before actually doing so. He does get off a shot at Scott’s shoulder and seems to fry MB, though immediately afterward Barda throws him out the window.

So now—you guessed it—Scott’s decided to once again head out and walk right into the bad guy’s trap. Of course, at this point it feels a lot more like simple, and well-placed, confidence that he’ll be able to get out of anything, but he sure doesn’t go out of his way to give his archnemeses a hard time, does he? For good measure, he insists that Barda not follow him. Mr. M is a cocky bastard, isn’t he?

Anyway, a few panels later he’s strolling on board the Ceri-Skiff to confront the Doctor:



“Despite the fact that we’re sworn enemies, I don’t take setbacks lightly!” adds Bedlam, vying for the coveted Non Sequitur Award (villainous speech division). Scott responds properly by punching him in the face, but of course he’s jumped out of the body, leaving behind an empty animate (albeit one which keeps the Doctor’s clothing, for some reason.) Then the doors to the skiff slam shut, and it rockets into space, immediately throwing itself into a meteor swarm and convincingly bashing Scott around, hardly leaving Scott the time to move, let alone escape. I guess, for a guy who gives Scott plenty of warning that he’s about to try and kill him and practically dares him to escape—which is something that, if you haven’t been paying attention, he always does--the Doctor doesn’t mess around once the actual deathtrap has been sprung.

The ship rises up into the atmosphere and heats up to incredible degrees, yet, somehow, conveniently, Scott survives. “I can sense your presence, Doctor Bedlam!” he announces. “And, also—your failure to kill me!” Well, yeah, you generally would sense that you hadn’t been killed. Perceptive of you, Scott.

Now it’s up, up, up into deep space, and a killing chill sets in…yeesh, don’t people bother to insulate their spaceships these days? As Scott wraps himself in his cape to fight the cold, the Doctor returns to the Animate to drink in what he believes will be Scott’s final moments, and to be a big stupid lame-o who sows the seeds of his own defeat because Kirby needed to wrap things up conveniently. Ahem, sorry. At any rate, he knows Scott’s about to crash into the moon and die, but suddenly a pinging comes from…Scott’s head. And before Bedlam can make a move, a beam from Scott’s forehead has woven an “electro-web of micro-cosmic atoms” around the Doctor, from which his consciousness can’t escape.

A web.

Morbo?



“MIND TRANSFERENCE DOES NOT WORK THAT WAY!!!”

You guessed it—Bedlam ends up trapped in the Animate as it crashes into the moon, dazzling onlookers back on Earth. Hey, thanks for the free promotion, Doc! Come clean, you’re not really a super-villain at all, aren’t you? You’re just bashful. You really just want to help Scott any way you can, don’t you?

And of course…Scott then teleports back to Earth. You know, teleportation? The thing which he swore he wouldn’t do in previous issues, because it was cheating?

And if you think that’s bad—



He duplicated Mother Box’s circuits into his hood. Without giving us any indication or setup. LAME. DUMB. DEUS EX MACHINA.

This issue is classic Fourth World, in that it’s a pretty good concept that’s executed in a way that seems calculated to annoy with its awkwardness and inconsistency. There really, really needs to be more set up, and more consistant rules, for the wondrous devices Scott pulls out of his butt in a given issue.

Fortunately…or unfortunately…it’s not really a concern for the rest of the series. Mister Miracle continues, but the Fourth World more or less vanishes for most of it, and with it all Scott’s annoying gadgets. I tend to peg the sudden decline of Kirby’s storytelling in this issue to his knowledge that his baby was being ruthlessly pared down, and the attendant cooling of passion for the project. As it turns out, though, the Fourth World would endure…though we’ll have to wade through some crap before we get to glimpse it again.

The New Gods #11--"Darkseid and Sons!"

THE BATTLE TO END ALL BATTLES! FOR THIS SERIES AT LEAST!

If DC was going to cancel all but one of the Fourth World books, why oh why couldn’t New Gods be the one that survived? It was clearly the most crucial of the books, and probably could have carried on and completed the continuity of the Fourth World saga by itself. Of course, that very quality seems to be what made the DC brass uncomfortable, so they “salvaged” the book that could best stand alone—Mister Miracle—and threw out the rest. (Though, years later, The New Gods was the book that DC revived and which led to a sort-of conclusion for the series…but more on that in a few more installments’ time.)

At any rate, this too is the end of one of the Fourth World books, meaning that Kirby now has to fold up a few plot threads faster than he otherwise might have done. We get a taste of this right away as we open with Kalibak, now in police custody. I think it’s pretty clear that Orion’s battle with Big K was cut short at the end of issue #8 because these two form the main connecting narrative between the various issues of this book, and Kirby had a big, rousing, possibly issue-long battle between the two of them planned out for later. (Exactly how long the Fourth World saga was planned for isn’t clear, because Kirby was such a creature of whim, but he seemed to suggest that it would have lasted about 24 issues each—in other words, we didn’t quite get to the halfway point.) It’s a shame that we couldn’t get a few more issues between their first battle and his big return; it would have allowed for a nice lull before the big storm.

But anyway, we’ve got one of the most amusing and, in a way, touching themes of the series spelled out right here in this splash panel…with, as I said, Kalibak in police custody.

They’ve got a god in police custody.

You just know that if this series had been done today—or even in the 70s, but by a different artist, which obviously never would have happened, but anyway—that he’d be under the control of the federal government, possibly buried deep in a top-secret underground penitentiary and patrolled day and night, thus making for an amazing escape sequence later on. But nope, not in Kirby-land. Here beings of awesome cosmic might are nothing New York—excuse me, Metropolis--cops can’t handle.

Granted, as the expositionary cops relate to Commissioner Kiernan, “it does take all of this city’s electrical power to hold him”, but…wait, all of it? Because I’m pretty sure Metropolis wasn’t plagued by massive blackouts in the last two issues. I’m also not sure what the power is doing, exactly, since they’ve got him in a weird isolation tank:



And again, the NYPD…or the MPD…or whatever, is perfectly capable of jerry-rigging a super-powered tank to contain an alien god with superstrength. That’s why they get paid the big bucks!

Well, maybe keeping that juice flowing is costing them too much, and that’s why Kiernan makes the boneheaded decision to let Kal go so they can arrange a truce. Seriously, this is the exchange:

KIERNAN: Do you hear me, whoever you are? Start talking peace, or do your fighting elsewhere!
KALIBAK: I can do neither--in here, Earthman!
KIERNAN: If I thought for one second—that you could be trusted--
KALIBAK: Why not? My war is not with your kind—and I’m willing to carry your message!

Well, I’m convinced! That whole business of you wrecking up downtown? That’s all in the past.

Of course he immediately bursts free of his shackles and blasts through the wall. But he does seem willing to carry Kiernan’s message, so I guess…Yay? I’m sure the monstrous caveman who already trashed half the city will be extremely sincere and effective in delivering the message of negotiation. And Orion seems highly receptive. I’m sure this won’t lead to another block-shattering fistfight.

Oh, look, here’s Orion, practicing the reasoning skills that have made him such a qualified diplomat:



Fortunately, before he can thoroughly re-enact the average Van Halen tour (or possibly the Wyckyd Sceptyre party tape), Claudia Shane bursts in and announces that Kalibak has escaped. Orion crows that this means he’ll have to leap into battle, in defiance of Lightray’s call for patience, but Lightray responds that since Kalibak’s headed this way anyway, they might as well sit back and relax.

Meanwhile, Darkseid is in the Omniscient Master Villain’s Plotting Room, which is standard issue for folks like him. It’s the room in which you stand plotting, and henchmen run up and deliver exposition at you (or, on occasion, you view things via a screen or scrying pool.) The latest bit of news is that Kalibak has escaped, and Darkseid is preparing himself for a final conflict between the two. Desaad is confused over Darkseid’s ambiguity over who he wants to win; Darkseid snaps back that he doesn’t have to explain his motives, then proceeds to explain his motives. See, back when Darkseid was just a little pebble—a chip off the old block, you might say—he was in love with the sorceress Suli…who, as we now learn, is the mother of Kalibak. Darkseid’s mom, Heggra, had arranged for him to marry Tigra, and had Suli poisoned by Desaad, a fact of which Darkseid is apparently well aware. Yet he keeps Desaad around as his close personal confidante, even favouring him over the more effective and less duplicitous Glorious Godfrey. I know they say to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but this is ridiculous.

Kalibak has, in the meantime, reached his target, and is shaking Dave Lincoln’s apartment to pieces (that guy’s going to have to move when all this is over.) Suddenly it’s Lightray who’s the impulsive one, diving out the window take on Kalibak before Orion can take the stairs. Lightray charges at Kalibak with a “Nova Blast” which, for some reason, requires him to ram into him full speed instead of just hanging back in the air where Kalibak can’t reach and shooting off energy bolts. Kalibak shrugs off the first one, then grabs on to Lightray and pummels him to a pulp. Uh, good one, Master Strategist.

Orion, you’ll recall, can’t interfere in personal combat, so he’s forced to hang back and watch helplessly. But once Lightray is unconscious, he leaps into battle.

On the other side of the city, an old friend springs into action. Paralyzed Vietnam vet Willie Walker has once again become The Black Racer, and he’s headed out once again to collect the soul of one who’s time has come: “An angry god!” Well, that narrows it down…

The rest of this issue can be summed up in a single sentence: “Orion and Kalibak beat the shit out of each other.”

…OK, there’s a little more to it than that. See, Kalibak seems to be a lot more powerful than he ought to be, which is why he was able to blow off Lightray’s attack earlier. He’s even able to project energy from his hands, catching Orion by surprise and letting Kalibak bring a building down on him.

Darkseid is watching all this on his Hi-Def, and besides being surpised at Kalibak’s newfound power, it’s pretty clear that deep down, he’s rooting for Orion. Suspicious, and tipped off by a minion, who says that the source of Kalibak’s power is emanating from somewhere in his own fortress, Darkseid goes looking and finds Desaad, using that siphon-thing of his to feed of the roiling emotions of the battle, and giving Kalibak a boost. Wait, I thought the siphon fed off fear, not violence?

More to the point, there’s an interesting idea that isn’t spelled out as such. Desaad seems to realize that Darkseid’s sentiment for Orion is throwing things out of whack, providing the one chink in the emotional armour of this otherwise perfect tyrant. So he’s helping Kalibak behind the bosses’ back…despite the fact that this is the kind of thing that you’d think Darkseid would want him to do. This actually plays into the ideas we’ve seen touched on with Barda, where she respects Darkseid as an ideal, but feels that the actual Darkseid doesn’t live up to those ideals, and as a result, she goes against him. Here, though, it’s portrayed simply as Desaad being a weasel. Darkseid, possibly riled up by his recent recollections of what Desaad did to the love of his life, employs The Omega Effect. Unlike the Forever People, however, Desaad is apparently destroyed for good. Apparently Darkseid’s one of those villains who has a free hand when it comes to killing his own men, but is a big softie when it comes to killing people who pose an actual threat. “No, sire! NO--! screams Desaad. “Desaad doesn’t even have time to scream!!” lies the narration. Then, poof, Desaad is nothing more than a fading patch of light.

Orion pulls himself from the wreckage and suddenly finds Kalibak an easier opponent. “We must be brothers, you and I!” announces Orion out of nowhere. “Different sides of the same coin! True sons of Darkseid—the essence of his creed of total violence!” “Were Darkseid my father, he would have but one true son!” sneers Kalibak. “Kalibak! Kalibak!” he clarifies. “Die, Kalibak!” shouts Orion, launching himself at Kalibak’s face. “If we fight as sons of Darkseid—only one may live!” I’m not sure if this is some kind of metaphor, or if they’re somehow spontaneously figuring this out….

The Black Racer swoops in to claim his victim…but WHO? WHO? Could it be Orion? Or is it Kalibak, the guy who’s being pummeled to a pulp, held aloft and helpless?



I’ll give you a hint: it’s Kalibak.

The Racer leaves, taking Kalibak with him. Hey, he never did get around to delivering that message of peace, did he? Oh well, too late now. Anyway, with two panels left in the series, Orion faces forward and declares, “I can deny it no longer!—to others or to myself! I AM DARKSEID’S SON!!--Armed and ready with the heritage bequeathed me!—The ultimate ferocity! When I clash with Darkseid--THE WAR WILL END!

Ah, but nothing ever ends, does it, Orion? Certainly the war between the New Gods rages to this day. Your series, however, does end. Right here.

Please Stand By...

As may be obvious by now, there won't be a Fourth World Fridays entry this week. I'm catching up with a major project right now, as well as dealing with some family issues. We'll return next week.

The Forever People #11--"Infinity Man Returns!"

KEEP ON TRUCKIN’.

So the last two issues have seen the Forever People renting an apartment, getting jobs, and just generally showing signs of giving up their hippie lifestyle. Which may have been timely, given that the 60s had been over for two years at this point, but it did seem to run counter to what made the book interesting. The FP’s weren’t really meant to settle down, as evidenced by what happened last time they tried to do that…and sure enough, more or less the same thing happens this time around. Namely, a minion of Darkseid shows up, trashes the place, and sends them scurrying off.

This time, though, the threat comes not from a suicide bomber or a lone religious maniac. This time the threat is a name spoken in hushed whispers across the Fourth World:



I think it’s the red short-shorts that add that extra soupcon of intimidation.

Devilance is apparently one of Darkseid’s big guns, as we see when Big Bear moves in to grapple with him and he tosses him aside. I would ask why Devilance wasn’t sent in to take care of the FP’s right from the start, but it’s pretty clear that Darkseid mostly just enjoys jerking these kids around, teleporting them willy-nilly and throwing them back in time, even in situations where he has them at his mercy. At any rate, Devilance doesn’t seem to be messing around, and it’s only the timely intervention of the police, responding to Mrs. Magruder’s call, that gives the FP’s time to teleport away. Dev just contemptuously shrugs them off and flies out the window, using the first of many functions he’ll demonstrate on his wonderful lance.

The Forev Peeps haven’t wasted their moment; they’ve teleported, using Mother Box, to an abandoned mine shaft “a vast area” away. Despite the efficacy of their hiding place, and the fact that they can seemingly teleport away anytime they feel like it, Mark Moonrider knows that they’re only temporarily safe. “What’s going to happen to us, Mark?” frets Beautiful Dreamer. “Devilance won’t give up until we’re imprisoned on Apokolips—or dead!” “We’ll keep calm and plan a defense, Beautiful Dreamer!” responds Mark, sort of condescendingly. “It’s all we can do!”

I guess I should mention here that this is the final issue of The Forever People. Like The New Gods, it was brought to a screeching halt by low sales; unlike The New Gods, it wasn’t revived by Kirby later on (there was at least one revival, in 1988, by J.M. DeMatteis and Paris Cullins, about which I know nothing). It’s hard not to see this issue as a compilation of several issues and ideas Kirby probably wanted to run throughout the series. As mentioned, the natural inclination of the comic was to be a travelogue; introducing Devilance, a relentless, Terminator-type pursuer, to keep them moving from place to place, would have been a logical addition to the strip. The ending here also would have been more satisfying if it had capped a storyline covering several issues, but it’s still pretty good.

Which brings me to Infinity Man. What? Yes! Infinity Man! You know, the nigh-omnipotent being that the FP’s used to be able to call upon to get them out of a jam? And whom we haven’t seen hide nor hair of since the above-linked issue #3? Well, as you’ll recall, that issue had Darkseid zapping Infy with some kind of ray that reversed the little Captain Marvel/Voltron-style switcheroo that the Forever People had learned how to do. It turns out that this was actually a permanent thing, which is why the FPs hadn’t been able to call on him since.

And that’s both cool and logical—as I mentioned, it was getting a bit silly that the FPs could just call on this omnipotent being anytime they felt threatened. But, y’know, it might have helped just a tad with the storytelling if Kirby had, I don’t know, told us any of this stuff. As it is it kind of comes off like the FPs just wandered off and forgot Infinity Man even existed. Almost as if they’d partaken too heavily of some kind of chemical substance. Which is clearly ridiculous.

Anyway, Infinity Man was banished by the power of Darkseid to “a corner of the Universe where time, space, and matter change and merge”:



Some kind of barrier prevents him from going back to…wherever it is he normally hangs out when the FPs aren’t using him. Actually, it’s kind of weird that we’re just now seeing the guy “apart from” the FPs, and this seems to confirm that they’re definitely separate entities. But who knows; these are gods, after all. The idea of “taking on an aspect” is one found throughout literature. Um, though I have to admit you don’t usually see multiple people taking on the same aspect.

At any rate, this pocket universe isn’t a complete craphole; in fact, there’s a lush, beautiful, and uninhabited world nearby, to which Infy keeps returning when banging against the walls of the Universe tires him out. This planet is apparently called “Adon”. If you read 52, the recent DC “event” series, you may remember that, near the beginning, Animal Man, Starfire and Adam Strange were all banished to a paradisical planet on the other end of the Universe…where they encountered Devilance the Pursuer. It’s for this reason, and others that will become clear, that I think that Adon was that same planet, and this issue therefore seems to have had a big impact on 52.

Speaking of Devilance, it turns out that he’s tracked down our hippie friends, and they’re soon engaged in further combat. Mark tries his Megaton Touch, but it misses, and Devilance lunges forward—into a pit filled with goopy, comic-book lava. The blast was just a distraction to entice him forward, and Beauty had whipped up an illusory floor for him to step out onto. But Devilance is merely trapped for a moment, allowing them to teleport away once more.

This time they wind up on a remote island in the South Pacific, covered with giant stone heads…that look nothing like the famous Easter Island heads. It’s like Kirby read about Easter Island somewhere and decided to draw his own interpretation without bothering with visual reference:



Anyway, Devilance is on them almost instantly. This time the plan is for Vykin to use Mother Box to separate him from his lance, without which he’s “considerably weakened!” Vykin uses his “Magna-Waves” to tap the lance in a little cyclone, and Big Bear rushes in to pummel him, but once again Devilance cleans his clock when his lance somehow figures out a way to return to his hand. Man, Big Bear’s looking like a chump in this issue. In fact, it’s freakin’ Serifan who rushes into save him, using one of his Cosmic Cartridges to once more pull a convenient, never-before-mentioned power out of his ass and encase him in some extremely heavy metal. And that’s the only time you’ll ever hear “Serifan” and “heavy metal” used in the same sentence.

The FPs, allowed a momentary break in the action, retreat to the jungle to mull what to do with their pursuer. “We can’t kill Devilance!” mutters Beauty. “Our creed is non-violence!” puts in Big Bear.

…excuse me?!? Non-violence?!? And it’s Big Bear of all people saying that? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Bear, but you yourself were doing some pretty serious pounding as recently as a few pages ago. And you’re in a freaking Kirby comic. You really think you’re going to be allowed to be non-violent? Only girls get that option.

What I assume he meant was that they don’t kill. But they waste precious time talking about it, and wishing vainly for news from The Source, and next thing you know it looks like Devilance is free again. Smooth, guys.

The Forever People try to hold him off with logic, pointing out that they can just keep holding him off forever, resulting in a stalemate. Devilance blows that aside by saying that he’s willing to kill, and the Forev Peeps aren’t, so he’s bound to get the upper hand eventually. But just as things look bleak, the Mother Box rises into the air. “Is she calling for the ”contact ritual?”” asks Beauty. “Yes!” responds Vykin, “She strongly senses a contact with Infinity Man!”

You see, Infy has been thinking furiously back on Adon. “The young Forever People! They are the key! In the magic word ’Taaru’, which links us as one, destiny shall do what the powers of time and space command it!” He then…thinks very hard at the barrier that blocks him off from the rest of the universe. Back on Earth, Moonrider says that he thinks they can access Infinity Man now, after months of being unable to make contact, and Infy senses their presence.

Oh, Infy. All this time and you’re still a big, walking, omnipotent deus ex machine. It’s a shame you didn’t think of this “thinking hard” trick back when the FPs were trapped in Desaad’s amusement park of doom.

Anyway, the ritual kicks in, and suddenly Infy is standing there, ready to take on Devilance. It’s the battle of the dudes in short-shorts!



The battle mounts as Infy tries to grab Devilance’s lance away, resulting in a series of more and more “energetic” panels, until finally the island itself explodes, leaving only Jack, Kate, Hurley, Sayid and Sun floating on the open ocean. Oh, wait.

Suddenly, we cut to Darkseid and Desaad, watching all this mayhem from…somewhere. “Thus, blind destiny writes an ending well beyond the wisdom of Darkseid himself!” intones Darkseid. With Infinity Man destroyed, the Forever People are now trapped on Adon…forever. But hey, if you have to be banished someplace, this is about the nicest planet you could ask for. Cheerfully accepting their lot, the Forever People walk forward to begin exploring their new home.

“A moment stirs! A moment lives! A moment Passes on! The young Forever People, for this moment, turn their back on Earth and face heir future on this new world! Will they return someday? Destiny will answer this question, too!”

Seriously, thematically, this is a great ending. It’s hard not to mist up a little as you see the fivesome walking off into the lush, pastel-coloured rococo landscape. The sixties were over, and it was becoming clear even to squares like Kirby that the utopian visions the counterculture had nurtured were drifting away, becoming an impossible dream. If the book had continued, it probably would have been forced more and more into a conventional format, with the FPs giving way to and compromising with the forces of mundane reality. With this abrupt ending, the fivesome never has to make that compromise, and can dwell on forever as a platonic ideal, romping amongst fields far beyond our ken. It was a long, strange trip while it lasted, but they were always strangers here, on this place called Earth. Shine on, you crazy diamonds.

Mister Miracle #10--"The Mister Miracle To Be"

TO BE? OR NOT TO BE? THAT IS THE QUESTION.

The fourth and final volume of the Fourth World Omnibus collection kicks off, appropriately enough, with Mister Miracle—appropriate, because he’ll be dominating the first 2/3rds of this collection. That is, before we leap forward 15 years and Orion takes center stage again. But more on that as it comes.

If you’ll cast your mind back a couple of issues, you’ll recall that Scott and Barda had returned to Apokolips for some cathartic foiling of Granny Goodness’s plans…though he still hasn’t quite managed to defeat her for good, so I’m not really sure what the point was. But she’s definitely been weakened by virtue of the fact that the Female Furies have seemingly all gone over to Barda’s side, and in fact the “big four”—Stompa, Lashina, Mad Harriet, and Burnadeth—are all returning to Earth with her and Scott as this story opens.

Unfortunately, it seems that (apparently for the first time ever) they’ve miscalculated and sent a Boom Tube to the wrong place—a bland-looking grassy plain that the Furies immediately proclaim to be a dump. Scott, more sensibly, points out that it’s an improvement on Apokolips…which is, of course, a cue for the explosions and ammo. While Barda dodges the fire of an automated machine gun, Scott crawls underneath it and disables it just in time. The other Furies, conveniently, hang back off panel while this is happening.

No sooner has Scott succeeded than a sinister bld fellow in Khakis and his array of goons pop up, guns trained on Scott. “You ’all-nation’ agents are getting increasingly ingenious!” he proclaims. Despite Scott’s proclamations of innocence, the guy prepares to open fire, and Scott is once again forced to kick, dodge, and scurry his way out of the gunfire as he takes out the agents, spouting limp one-liners like “I get a kick out of meeting people I don’t like!” Even Scott admits to himself that this is a horrible cliché once the guys are all rendered unconscious. I guess either Kirby was becoming aware of his limitations as a writer—there are more and more of these self-criticizing moments as the series goes on—or else someone else was poking him about it.

At any rate, the Furies, Barda included, have run off somewhere, and Scott somehow decides that they preceded him down into the hatch from which Baldy emerged. Um, yeah, no doubt, Scott. Just be glad there isn’t a killer on the loose, because that whole “splitting up to wander off down a dark corridor alone” routine tends not to work so well in those situations. Actually, they usually lead to trouble in superhero comics, too.

And indeed, no sooner has Scott emerged from the elevator than he’s greated by…a disembodied head. The Head of the World Protective League, as he calls himself. In classic villain fashion, he proceeds to show Scott around his “Tinker’s Shop”, as he calls it, where his men are preparing an “orbital plague bomb” with which they plan to hold the world for ransom. Yes, that “protective” moniker applies in the sense of “protection racket”. This is standard supervillain stuff, of course, but adding that little flourish is a clever touch. Actually I think it would have been even neater if we’d started off by assuming that they were a bunch of good guys, and then the play on words had shifted our perceptions.

At any rate, the Head has been labouring under the assumption that Scott and the Furies are a bunch of secret agents, sent to disrupt their plans. Because secret agents have a tendency to show up in flamboyant, brightly coloured costumes and set off your evil lair’s defenses, don’t you know. At any rate, Scott helpfully waits until the Head is ready to hit him with a brain beam that renders him unconscious.

Meanwhile, the Furies are waking up in a cell, enclosed by foot-thick glass. Apparently the Head saw fit to render them all unconscious and take them prisoner, while allowing Scott to wander right up to him. Well, you’ve got to give props to the head: he recognized that the Furies are a lot more of a physical threat than Scott. What he failed to notice is that Mad Harriet has secret “power spikes” secreted in her knuckles…



Whoa, “Snikk”? And this was two years before a certain Canucklehead burst onto the superhero comics scene. Oh Kirby, is there anything in comics you didn’t anticipate?

Mad Harriet carves a hole in the glass, and Stomp kicks it out, freeing the Furies and knocking out the guard. Across the room, the Furies find another prisoner, one who starts smarmily demanding they free him. Turns out he’s “Mike McKracken of the All-Nations Agency!”, super-spy and secret agent (though not so super that he can avoid getting captured, it seems.) He immediately pours on the Neanderthal charm with Barda, which gets her to rip the bars out of his cell, at least, though only for the purpose of wringing his neck. McCracken, in case it isn’t obvious, is a parody of the numerous 60s-era superspies with out-of-control libidos who worked for vague UN-like international organizations; pairing him with the Furies is an amusing bit of snarkiness on Kirby’s part. While Kirbs wasn’t immune to sexism himself from time to time, this whole storyline is undeniably a shot fired at the rampant chauvinism of the previous, supposedly enlightened decade.

At any rate, before the Furies can get sufficiently angry at McCracken to polish him off, security shows up, leading to a standard slugfest, with the Furies making short work of the flunkies. Uh, I guess the Head was too busy to knock them out again long-distance?

Specifically, he was busy with Phase Two of the Generic Supervillain Five-Year Plan: put your hero in an elaborate deathtrap instead of just shooting him. This is often sort of elided over in Mister Miracle because the villains have heard of his fame and want to see if he’s Really That Good, but The Head has no idea who he is, so why bother?



Oh. Right. Floating Heads always have an array of random mental powers, so I should have figured on plot-convenient telepathy, too. At any rate, is there really a lot of suspense in seeing Mister Miracle bound hand and foot and thrust into a hyperbaric chamber that is promptly flooded with “death gas”? To no one (outside the comic)’s surprise, the chamber is opened and the empty shackles fall out…and when the thugs peer in, baffled, Mister Miracle comes flying out feet-first into them. Scott grabs the head and takes it hostage, as the villains stand agape at Scott’s ability to overcome his mental powers. The Head, however, has at least figured out Mister M.’s use of hidden gadgets, and calls a penalty in the form of a huge psychic blast that puts Scott out again.

This time, it’s the arrival of the Furies that saves him, particularly Lashina, but the Head still manages to get away…dragging Scott’s limp body behind him on a magnetic tractor beam. Before the Furies can catch up, the Head has arrived at the launch site and throws Scott into the germ-carrying rocket.

Hmmm. This is starting to look a little familiar. Fortunately, there’s a twist at this point: a magnetic pull drags the Head towards the rocket’s hull and affixes it there as the rocket takes up…then explodes in the upper atmosphere.

Damn, Scott, that’s cold. I mean, yeah, he was insane and evil and a threat to the world, but that doesn’t usually stop superheroes from sparing their enemies’ lives. The traditional out is for the villain to somehow be foiled by his own devices and fall down a pit, or be eaten by his own monster, or something. But that was Scott just flat-out executing the guy. Also, I kinda hope that rocket got high enough before exploding that the germs aren’t going to trickle down to Earth and infect everyone.

The Furies catch up to find Scott waiting calmly in the control room, ready to deliver one of his patented expositional speeches about how he escaped (in brief: by using his usual assortment of Deus Ex Machina Gadgets.) Surprisingly, though—possibly because Kirby suddenly realized he had five pages left—we get a little additional drama as they track down Barda’s missing mega-rod, which is in the hands of a leprechaun:



…Or an evil research scientist, whatever.

They catch up with him pretty easily—boy, that was gripping—and, after taking back the Mega-Rod, give him four hours to evacuate the base. Then McCracken sabotages the base to explode and Barda whisks the batch of them away.

But there’s still some pages left, and they’re given over to an epilogue in which we check on the long-absent Oberon. Or rather, the left-behind-for-three-issues Oberon. Left to rattle around Thad-now-Scott’s old house, Obie’s going a bit stir-crazy, so he’s delighted to receive a visitor: Thaddeus Brown’s son, Ted, who is only just now bothering to show up. Seems he’s been walking the Earth, like Caine in Kung Fu, trying to find himself, and possibly running away from his father’s long shadow. However, having received a letter from Oberon some time back, he’s finally realized his calling in life: to be a PR man.

Yeah, I thought that was a little anticlimactic too.

It’s especially ironic given the whole counterculture tone of the Fourth World Saga up until this point…but then, change was in the air for Kirby when he produced this issue. Let me note briefly that Scott, Barda, and the Furies arrive home with impeccable timing, and Ted promptly decides he’d love to help promote their act, thus ending the issue with a new phase in Mr. Miracle’s life about to begin.

Anyway…it’s about this time that Kirby apparently started to learn that the Fourth World books weren’t selling that well. Combined with the brewing economic times affecting America in general and the comic industry in particular during the 70s, Kirby seems to have suddenly realized that the good times of (relative) experimental freedom and personal expression that he’d enjoyed for a decade were about to grind to a halt. DC wanted concepts out of him that could compete with Marvels’ for the burgeoning fanboy dollar, but they weren’t really willing to let the King stretch his creative muscles in a way that would really accomplish this. For their purposes, they were getting Kirby at his least commercial—or at least, that’s how it must have seemed then. As I’ve argued before, I think Kirby was right on the cutting edge at Marvel, but here he was too far ahead of his time. By the late 70s, the cosmic vision of the Fourth World would have been completely suited to comics and pop culture in general, but at the time it was still a slowly-budding market.

That wasn’t good enough for DC, which was only just starting to lose its grip on the #1 spot in the comic book market. A lot of people don’t realize this—for all Marvel’s passionate fans throughout the 60s, they were a pretty small segment of the market compared to that of DC and some of the other giants, like Dell. It wasn’t until after Kirby left that Marvel started to overtake them, and the explosion of fanboy fervour which has been associated with comics ever since has distorted the historical view. It was unfortunate timing on Kirby’s part; he’d been part of a team of underdogs on their way up, but now he was suddenly allied with an industry leader starting to enter a decline. It was the worst of both worlds: he got a nervous, conservative boss that hated to take chances, without the commensurate money and readership that might have counterbalanced it. Though I should note that some blame corporate backstabbing rather than genuinely low numbers for the cancellation of the Fourth World—but more on that later.

The long and the short of it is, Kirby could probably sense that the game was winding down, as this comic not only sets the stage for the future of Mister Miracle, it also seems to reflect a listlessness and a growing lack of interest on Kirby’s part. The next phase of the Fourth World saga is a little depressing, but it does have something that at least vaguely resembles a happy ending….