The New Gods #10--"Earth--The Doomed Dominion"

DOES WHATEVER A...BUG OF UNSPECIFIED SPECIES DOES.

So. Last issue dealt with the “Bugs”, the subterranean dudes in costumes insectile life forms who mutated from biological weapons loosed upon New Genesis in the great war. We learned that one of them, Forager, was an adoptee, probably a New God himself, and that he was loyal to “Prime One”, the brains of the colony who ended up being sacrificed to the new order when Mantis, stooge of Darkseid, took over. Barely escaping with his life, Forager hightailed it to Earth to warn Orion of the coming invasion.

We open on Mantis charging up in his power coffin as he did the first time we saw him. Rising from the coffin, Mantis gives a less-than-effective rallying speech:

MANTIS: We go to Earth! And there Mantis will make you the Masters!! There you shall rule instead of run!!
BUGS: We hear you, O Mantis!!
MANTIS: Hear further! Hear how this war between Apokolips and New Genesis will end with victory—for us!!
BUGS: We know, Mantis!

Not exactly the St. Crispin’s day speech. “Yeah, yeah, shut up already, great Mantis.” But they go along with Mantis’s poorly-explained invasion plans anyway, almost like they have no individual wills of their own. Like they’re some kind of…hive creatures or something.

Oddly, Mantis promises them powers such as his own ability to charge and drain energy, and that each other them will rule a part of Earth once its conquered. Since there appear to be roughly fifteen sqadrillion bugs, I’m wondering just how tiny the patches of land each bug is going to be allowed to rule over will be. “Hey, you! This is my clodpile! Stay within your boundary marker!” But then, these guys don’t have a lot of experience with individual will-to-power, being bugs and all.

Meanwhile, on Earth, Forager has stopped to do what he does best—steal food—and is being pursued for his troubles by a pair of comical stereotype chefs with poofy toques and everything. He proceeds to hop all over main street, frightening and unnerving pedestrians, and eventually runs straight up a building thanks to his “foot adheso-grips”…almost like a certain well-known wall-crawler belonging to a certain company Kirby had recently vacated.

Kirby’s role in creating Spider-man has always been a little cloudy—the character, obviously, is usually accredited to Steve Ditko and Stan Lee, the latter of whom claims he was inspired by a childhood radio program called “The Spider!” But Kirby had, unquestionably, pitched a few variations on a character known as “The Human Spider” or “Spider-man” to various comic companies (including MLJ, forerunner of Archie) throughout the 50s, so he probably got the ball rolling at least. I wonder if Forager is meant to be another twist on this character Kirby never got to realize his own way at Marvel. Certainly there’s a vague resemblance:



Also like Spider-Man, Forager finds himself relentlessly pursued by the cops, who eventually pick him up in a net while he’s trying to enjoy the loaf of bread he swiped. They carry him off to the station, where his path is fated to cross with Orion’s. As you might recall, the cops had busted into Orion’s apartment last issue and arrested him, assisted by the extremely reluctant Dave Lincoln. As Lincoln is quick to point out to DA Mason Hartwell, they’re not really equipped to contain Orion and Lightray and are, as a random cop admits, only holding them “because they’re cooperating”. “…And that’s true!” adds Dave, redundantly. In response, Hartwell blusters that “Taking ‘guff’ is not my prime attribute!” He then adds that he has a +2 Sword and over a thousand hitpoints, and is ranked as Lawful Good.

He proceeds to get into a dick-waving contest with Orion, insisting that he needs to get Darkseid’s, um, side of the story before he can exonerate Orion for the damage he caused battling Kalibak. (Of course, they do have Kalibak in captivity, but apparently he doesn’t get to give a statement.) At that moment, the cops drag Forager in, and sighting Orion, he starts pleading with him for help. “You called me by name!” marvels Orion. “You!” adds Lightray, “A lowly New Genesis ’bug’!” Forager manages to get their attention, though, by snatching off his helmet and revealing the godlike face within, and alerts them that Mantis is coming.

Elsewhere in “the city” (this is all still happening in Metropolis, right? Man, Kirby really didn’t like being forced to tie this into the DC Universe) Mantis is emerging with his army within sight of a couple of comical hobos making a two-panel cameo. The bugs, riled up by their leader’s crotch,



storm forwards into the city. On spotting this advancing horde of monsters armed with heavy weaponry, the people scream and run, including one understated gentleman who bellows, “Someone get the police! They look dangerous!” (Just once I’d like to see that in a horror movie. The monster comes looming into view, and the doomed redshirt yells, “That thing looks dangerous!” before being eaten.)

Orion and Lightray prepare to smash some bug carapaces, but Hartwell still isn’t letting them leave. “If you gimmicky goblins take one more step—I’m ordering my men to shoot!” You can practically hear Orion’s eyes rolling as the three Eternals teleport themselves away, and Dave Lincoln drily notes that Lighray moves at the speed of light to the bemused cops, now standing in an empty cell.

What happens next is pretty straightforward; Orion, Lightray, and Forager intercept Mantis and his crew and start with the punching. It’s not really made clear whether Orion and Mantis are evenly matched; remember, Mantis took on Infinity Man and, at least briefly, fought him to a standstill. If Orion can beat Mantis, that suggests that he’s the equal of Infy. But then, all we get to see is Orion holding him off for a while, so maybe he couldn’t actually beat Mantis if it came to that. That may explain why Lightray zips off to attempt a new strategy. He finds it in the form of a very convenient “sonic research” lab, one with an elaborate transmittal device Lightray plans to use to broadcast sound waves (generated by himself) and foil the bugs. The startled scientists are understandably dodgy about this, but Lightray takes an uncharacteristically harsh line, and besides, a moment later the scientists spot the bugs swarming across the city. “Start the sonic transmitter!!” sputters one. “…and hope that we’re on the right side!” responds the other. (Hmmm…there’s a whole theme here about the various New Gods not being immediately recognizable as “good” or “evil” to the average citizen, isn’t there?)

Forager leaps into the fray, trying to hold back his former colleagues:

FORAGER: There’s no victory in this for you! Mantis is using you as tools!
BUG: You lie, traitor!
FORAGER: Then I’ll fight you to the death!

Boy, that didn’t take much.

Orion and Mantis are pretty much deadlocked in combat, until Lightray’s sound beam hits, causing the bugs to clutch painfully at their ears. Rather anticlimactically, they create a boom tube and run off, seemingly never to return.

There’s a pretty big problem with this issue: the New Genesisians are supposed to be noble and enlightened heroes of virtue and equality, but again we see that they treat bugs like dirt, despite the fact that they’re clearly sentient beings. Now, I could buy that Kirby was trying to show us that the New Gods aren’t perfect, that they need to learn a lesson about treating supposed “lesser beings” with respect. That certainly seems to be the intent. But he kind of throws a monkey wrench in this by having Forager be one of Orion’s kind, and further by showing him to legitimately be superior to the Bugs. He can make decisions on his own, he has human emotional attachments, and he’s just generally the saviour of his adopted species…with said species being shown, otherwise, to be mindless, violent cannon fodder, apparently completely deserving of being gassed, shocked, and starved by the New Gods. I’m sure Kirby didn’t intend things this way, but the subtext here certainly comes off as arrogant and chauvinistic.

But hey, bug warriors invading Earth. That’s cool.

Please Stand By

For only the second time since I started this project, I'm going to have to miss this week's Fourth World Fridays installment. I've got a nightmarishly busy weekend crammed with work, plus a few family obligations.

Back on the 27th! By the way, I believe FWF will actually be coming to an end sometime in September, at which point I'm going to attempt some new material.

The Forever People #10--"The Scavengers!"

"DON'T LOOK SO SURPRISED, YOU RAT! YOU CAN'T KILL A DEADMAN!"

“Among their strange experiences on the planet Earth, four young adventurers from New Genesis have stumbled into the most bizarre involvement yet! Fate has put a restless Deadman in their path!!” Um, four young adventurers? Is Beautiful Dreamer ever going to be taken seriously? Anyway, we’re on the second-last issue of The Forever People, and sad to say, Kirby’s still sidetracked with reinventing Deadman. The wheels were beginning to come off the whole enterprise at this point, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t still enjoyment to be had.

We open on a really bizarre (and typically Kirby-ish) robbery as a daredevil hanging from a trapeze suspended from a supersonic plane drops onto a high-tech “pollution-free engine”. He activates the drivers’ ejection seat by remote control, takes over the steering by himself, and drives the car away to be stripped. And that, children, is why we’re still driving gas-guzzling, carbon-emitting vehicles almost 40 years later. You can blame…The Scavengers.

Yes, The Scavengers, a high-tech operation that steals things for top buyers. As the toad-like director explains, “This is a super-age--of super-tools--used to serve the super-seller! And “The Scavengers” are a super-firm, geared to peddle super-merchandise!” Well, that makes super-sense! Thanks, super-ugly-face!

This continues the tradition of the characters in the Fourth World often reacting quite cavalierly to the New Gods. It does make a certain amount of sense—this is the DC Universe, after all, and these folks regularly see Superman and Wonder Woman zipping past—but it doesn’t explain why they’re not consistant about it, with characters occasionally going “Oh my god! You’re stronger than ten men! It’s not possible!” and so on. Either be blasé towards superhumans, or don’t be, average bystanders! Pick a reaction!

Anyway, continuing in their M.O., Toad-face is giving a guy in a fez an assignment to steal the “pyramid of Gazi”, by which I assume he means “Giza”. Apparently they have a super-rich backer who wants an authentic pyramid on his estate.

Yes. That’s right. He wants the scavengers to swipe one of the Great Pyramids and put it on his own land. Because, after one of the world’s most recognizable landmarks vanishes, no one will ever suspect the guy who suddenly has a pyramid in his backyard. It’s probably a good thing for all concerned that this plan appears to come to nothing and isn’t mentioned again.

Meanwhile, the logical gaffes keep on coming, as the Scavengers have been observing the Forever People, and now have footage of their latest exploits. Shot from “in hiding” in their basement. Yes, supposedly there was a villain crouching in their small basement, with a camera, able to get a perfect view of their activities, and none of the FPs noticed. Yeesh.

And what were they up to? Using New Genesisian technology to make a new body for Deadman. Remember the “Follower” Mr. Miracle employed way back when? That’s what the gang have dredged up, a Follower in the shape of Deadman’s traditional acrobat getup. (By the way, if I was a spirit forced to wander the world, and I had a chance to get my body back, I’m pretty sure I would ask for a version without creepy makeup and a flamboyant leotard, especially if I’d been forced to wear it throughout eternity up until then anyway.) We also learn that the Followers are actually biological instead of technological, and can be grown from “anything organic”. The toad-faced guy shows a particular interest in the Follower’s form, as he appears to recognize Boston Brand, and in the final panel of this sequence we see that he has a hook for a hand. Uh-oh.

Remember how Serifan was all being a sexist jerk in the last issue? And how Beautiful Dreamer seemed to be slowly increasing in height and musculature? Both of those things reach absurd proportions on this splash page:



OK, to be fair, she’s revealed to be standing on a box in the next panel, but she still looks as though she could crush Big Barda between her thighs. Despite this, she remains completely passive towards Serifan’s condescending dickishness, and his demand that she to drop what she’s doing and meet up with the other FPs. The person she does stand up to is the photographer, who’s, y’know, paying her to be there, and thus isn’t crazy about her leaving. She foils him by assuming the appearance of a hideous hag, causing him to fear for his sanity and bolt from the room. Ha ha! Take that, photographer! That’ll teach you to expect me to work in exchange for money!

A moment later, we learn that Beauty isn’t the only FP to have joined the ranks of the gainfully employed:



So awesome. And since the other three make no mention of getting a job, you just know Beauty and Big Bear were going to be carrying the rent. But then, that’s a pretty un-hippie thing to be doing, isn’t it? I wonder if Kirby was starting to realize that he’d missed the counterculture boat here and was attempting to get with the times (“the times” being the materialistic 70s). Again, this being the second-last issue, it’s hard to say if this was supposed to represent a new direction for the series or if it was just a pit stop into satire, but I’ll have more to say about this in the final issue.

Anyway, despite the apparent excitement caused by the Forever People getting together to give Deadman a new body (which Beauty describes as “like a big birthday party!” The hell?) Mark, accompanied by the ghostly Deadman, has decided to go upstairs and have a snack, courtesy of Trixie Magruder, their new (temporary?) landlady. This leaves the Follower unguarded, allowing a Scavenger operative to sneak in and steal it (it helpfully starts to follow his every move without any further prompting besides the guy standing near him). Oooookay…I’m not seeing why Deadman isn’t *already* in this body—I mean, it’s nice to wait for everyone and all, but I don’t think Boston really needs the company of a gang of kids he just met last issue before gaining the thing he’s been wanting for so long. Why would he leave it unattended?

Oh, right. Narrative convenience.

Of course, Mother Box quickly sounds the alarm—just a little too late—and Deadman is immediately chastising himself while running down the stairs (couldn’t he just pass through the floor?) but the Scavenger is gone. In fact, with typical Kirbian transition speed, the Follower is already back at the base, and being tested. This is how the Scavengers test it: by setting a beefy guy in boxing trunks to give it a punch. The Follower, of course, reflects his actions and punches him back, knocking the guy out. Wow, the Scavengers use their time wisely.

Toad-face, meanwhile, is haunted by the fact that the Follower looks like Boston Brand—with whom he clearly has some kind of history, wink wink nudge nudge—and has come close to sussing out exactly what the Follower is meant for. Fortunately, just as he makes up his mind to destroy it, Boston shows up, enters the body of the Follower, and violence ensues. Especially once Boston spots the Director’s hook-hand. The FPs show up and join the melee, smashing through a wall of steel-hard glass just in time for Deadman to be hit by a “frost beam” that freezes him solid. “See the look on that face!” Declares the ever-douchely Serifan. “Deadman’s very atoms have been locked to that body, so he can’t leave it!” So maybe you could, I don’t know, HELP HIM, you moron.

Meanwhile, the Director is unleashing another of the Scavengers’ ill-gotten weapons: an army of “Mechan-apes” from a “fully automated robot circus”. Oh, of course, that makes total sense. Not only that something like that would exist, but that an international criminal organization would want to steal it. If the mechan-apes don’t work, no doubt they’ll unleash some of the other terrifying weapons they’ve stolen: a length of string, a shiny button, and a quarter.

Of course, the mechan-apes make for a rousing fight scene. “Whoever built these things should have foreseen their being used with evil intent!” declares Big Bear as he demolishes them. Yes, of course. How could someone build robo-apes and NOT foresee that they might be misused by the hook-handed master of a gang of petty thieves? It’s just common sense, really.

The Director makes his getaway in a classic Blofeld-esque go-cart on a track, but is stopped by Beautiful Dreamer projecting a horrible monster up ahead. He bails out and surrenders, but the FP’s troubles aren’t over; his underling, referred to only as Manager, has stayed behind to unleash more exhibits from the Robot Circus on them, including a knife-throwing machine. Fortunately, Vykin uses his technical savvy to disable it, as Serifan thaws out Deadman. Grabbing hold of a trapeze, the undead avenger swings up to the Manager’s glass viewing box, smashes his way in, and knocks him unconscious.

So there you go—both the Scavenger operation and Deadman’s killer, brought to justice in one fell swoop, right? Well, not really. The Director reveals that his is just one of many Scavenger depots…and each one is headed by a guy with a hook for a hand. D’oh! Sounds like Deadman has his work cut out for him. To that end, Serifan gifts him with the blue cartridge from his hat, which will keep him bound to the body he now occupies, so he can continue in his quest to track down his killer. On that note, the FPs bid him farewell.

I have no idea what happened to Deadman in the immediate aftermath of this story. It seems like the suits weren’t too crazy with Kirby’s reinvention of the character, because every time Deadman’s shown up since—chronologically, the next time I’ve seen him is in Alan Moore’s run on Swamp Thing in the early 80s—there’s been no talk of robot bodies, blue cartridges or Scavenger depots. It’s not really that surprising to me, either; I mean, Kirby’s new paradigm for Deadman pretty much robs him of his distinctive power—the ability to posess people—and turns him into just a schmuck with a robot body (a super-strong, bulletproof robot body, of course, but still.) Further reinventions were probably inevitable, and it’s probably appropriate that Deadman, the ghostly superhero, is never able to rest in peace, constantly resurrected by fan writers, while never quite returning to life either.

Mister Miracle #9--"Himon!"

CONSIDER YOURSELF! AT HOME! CONSIDER YOURSELF! PART OF THE FURNITURE!

When I began this project, I’d read pretty much all of The New Gods and a healthy chunk of Kirby’s Jimmy Olsen. I knew of Mister Miracle from a handful of other sources, and The Forever People were mostly a blank to me. As a result, I started mentally filling in the blanks on both of these two characters before I actually got around to reading up to the end of their respective series. The FPs are and were pretty straightforward (though it’s a bit of a shame that we never get a direct recounting of how they ran off to Earth from New Genesis), but my take on Mister Miracle’s backstory ended up being quite off-base; I’d assumed the guy ran off from Granny’s orphanage, which no doubt resembled a high-tech prison/brainwashing centre, when he was quite young, and spent years kicking around Earth before meeting up with Thaddeus Brown.

This issue proves me quite wrong. I’d already gotten a pretty fair inkling, over the course of the first two omnibi, that Apokolips was quite different from how I’d assumed it to be thanks to the brief glimpse in the first issue of The New Gods. Thanks partly to Kirby’s constant evocation of 1984 and Adolf Hitler, combined with the degree to which the Fourth World inspired George Lucas, I’d been picturing a regimented hellscape of constant military discipline and repressive authority figures, under the unforgiving boot of the ultimate totalitarian, Darkseid. And while this is partly correct—it’s a hellscape alright, and Darkseid loves both his militarism and his authority—Apokolips turned out to be something a lot weirder. As I’ve noted before, there’s a surprising amount of personal liberty of Apokolips, extending even to the military recruits. This makes it far more interesting than a lot of “evil empires” we’ve seen in comics, yet it still enforces Kirby’s ideas of control and freedom in surprising ways. The Apokaliptians are brainwashed in early life, and then turned free more or less to do as they please—as long as what they please is basically in line with Darkseid’s plan. Otherwise, they seem to be free to fight with each other or develop their own “personalities”—most of which seem to be Granny’s mockery of the very idea of individualism rather than a true expression of self-worth.

For now, though, let’s dive into this issue that recounts Mister Miracle’s past, and reveals that the inspiration for Apokalips owes more to Dickens than to Orwell.

We open with a gang of Darkseid’s thugs landing in “Armagetto”, one of the slum-like mining stations on the edge of those blazing, continent-sized fire pits scattered across the face of the planet. A lavish double-page spread (which I’m not going to scan in because it’s too awkward) gives a terrific sense of proportion, showing the Cyclopean architecture towering over the tiny residents, and in turn, the gigantic hellfires blazing away behind them, filling the horizon. Quite an awesome shot here.

This is where the “Lowlies” toil in the service of Darkseid, mining and refining the raw materials to build the weapons and tools Darkseid requires. The goon squad, looking more Lucasian than ever, pours forth at the behest of their superior, “district protector” Wonderful Willik (in classic Kirby fashion, as noted in the last entry, the henchmen are basically interchangeable, but Willik gets a distinctive uniform.)



Willik’s come to track down a known dissident and troublemaker known as Himon, who they believe they’ve managed to trap in this section. The mewling hordes are indoctrinated in the creed of Apokolips—“Die for Darkseid!”—and thus grovel willingly, begging to be able to finish Himon themselves, but Willik’s more of a “Kill everyone and let Darkseid sort ‘em out” kinda guy…and that’s just what he does, ordering his men to take flamthrowers to the mob. As the flames roar up (despite the lack of bodies, this is a pretty brutal scene for a Comics Code approved entertainment!) a single, blurry figure, protected by a forcefield, stands amongst the flames. This is Himon, who, like Mister M. is a technology-powered master of escape, and Willik suspected that he’d be able to survive the flames. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to have thought too far ahead, as he now can’t reach Himon without stepping into the fire, and a “dyna-blast” simply ricochets back on him, allowing Himon to make his escape.

Or just barely. Himon nearly teleports into a wall, but is pulled to safety by the young Scott Free, who, we learn, has become his protégé. I should mention at this point that there were a number of little short stories in the back of prior Mr. Miracle issues that detailed Scott’s life in Granny’s orphanage, bucking authority and being contacted by Metron, who basically tended to pop in and taunt Scott, forcing him to question his existence. We now learn, rather abruptly, that this quest eventually led him to Himon, almost in spite of himself. Kirby has a thing for shifting ephiphanies and major decisions offstage at times, and this is one of the big ones.

Still, Scott’s far from convinced by Himon’s ragtag band of orphans, who he’s put to work building and maintaining the gadgets he uses to slip through the fingers of Darkseid’s goons.



Here’s where Kirby’s stated “Oliver Twist” influence comes in, with Himon as a benevolent Fagin amongst the hellish industrial slums. Himon also bears a curious resemblance to Kirby himself, and since Kirby was reportedly very engaged in mentoring the new generation at this point, it’s not hard to see where all this comes from.

Here we get an interesting insight into Mother Boxes. We were told a while back that not just anyone can use one, and that’s confirmed here with one of Himon’s charges, the subtly named Kreetin, who can’t get the Mother Box he just constructed to work, even though “every gadget it needs is in it!” Himon tells him, rather patronizingly, that the Mother Box doesn’t work “because you don’t work! What is there about you that doesn’t work, Kreetin?”

Also among the orphans is Auralie, an escapee from the Female Furie training division, and it’s this that blows their cover. A young Big Barda, wearing a simpler version of her familiar costume, comes bursting in, following a tracker in Auralie’s uniform. To her credit, though, she just wants Auralie back, and in fact doesn’t want her to get in trouble with Granny, which means she’s not going to squeal on Himon. In spite of this, she and Scott can’t help blustering at each other a little, with Barda twisting a metal pipe around his neck, and Scott blasting it to pieces with his sonic disruptors. This sublimated display of affection is interrupted by yet another gang of intruders blasting through the door (yeesh, Himon’s not actually that good at concealing himself, is he? He must move around a lot!) This time it’s a mob, and they want Himon’s head. The orphans fade out en masse, but Himon’s forced to stay behind to help Kreetin, and is captured.

Kreetin is let go by the mob, and immediately scuttles off. Metron immediately shows up. In his noncommittal, passive-aggressive way, he prods Kreetin about his cowardice, but Kreetin is a pure pragmatist, happy to let his mentor be killed if it means he gets away. Metron, despite his implicit contempt, remains noncommittal and doesn’t try to force Kreetin into anything—which isn’t surprising, really, because Metron’s not one to be judging anyone after that crap he pulled with helping Darkseid invade New Genesis. I like to think he’s learned his lesson, and that’s why he doesn’t interfere directly but does try to nudge people in the right direction.

There follows an odd two-page montage of Darkseid’s troops trying over and over again to execute Himon via a ridiculous series of traps, much like Scott regularly puts himself through; and like Scott, Himon escapes, over and over again. Finally, we cut to Himon meeting with Metron on the outskirts of town. Metron greets Himon as “master of theories!!” and Himon declares Metron to be “master of elements!!”—with Metron revealing that Himon basically designed all the technology Metron uses, including the Mother Box, Boom Tube and Mobius Chair. Man, that’s quite the resume. It also seems sort of backward—I would have said Himon is the earthbound master builder, and Metron’s the “idea man” who floats freely about the cosmos, but whatever. The two are apparently conspiring to help Scott escape, despite knowing that this will wreck the truce between New Genesis and Apokolips, but also knowing Scott needs to make the decision himself.

Now it’s suddenly time for the obligatory “traitor turns them all over to the villains” scene, and yes, the traitor in question is Kreetin. He’s executed by Willik for his trouble, and then we abruptly see the various young apprentices of Himon, literally “hung out to dry”, their dead bodies suspended from a “Magna-ring”. We, the audience, see them dead even before Scott and Barda do; Barda’s been summoned to attend the death of Auralie (we glimpse part of her dead body, electrocuted in a massive device, which again seems a little gruesome for this era of comics). Barda is horrified, and obviously this lays the groundwork for her eventual about-face. As for Scott, Willik is apparently leery of putting to death a member of the military hierarchy, despite Scott’s suspicious behaviour of late, and has them dragged off by his waiter. Yes, his waiter. That’s after the guy’s brought in his dinner, of course. Oddly, Scott and Barda go peacefully, and Willik tucks in his napkin to enjoy his meal—



Yes, the next panel is a large explosion.

The waiter was Himon, of course, and he leads them off with a rousing pep talk, revealing the secret of his Mother Boxes: they’re a direct link with The Source. In other words, they’re spiritual computers, and only someone with higher aspirations can use them. Scott, meanwhile, is vaguely remembering his mother, and bursting into tears in Himon’s arms.

An unspecified amount of time later, Scott escapes, having been “stripped of this rank! His mechanisms taken!” Boy, talk about compressed storytelling. Scott dodges Parademons and dog cavalry all the way to the edge of Armagetto, where he’s suddenly saved by Barda and the Furies (who apparently don’t hesitate to commit treason against Darkseid if Barda commands it.) Barda takes out a hovering vehicle with a thrown pile of wreckage. As they pass beyond the borders, Scott and Barda suddenly find their bodes growing heavy due to the area being saturated with “mass-gravity atoms!”. In spite of this, Himon and Metron are waiting for him over the next rise, standing on either side of a Boom Tube, offering him a chance to escape to safety. Not only that, but even Darkseid is there, standing behind Scott, booming, “I’ll not stop him now! If courage and bravery took him here!—Some of it was MINE!” It’s the most overtly stylized and symbolic sequence we’ve seen in this book so far, with Himon, Metron and Darkseid all seemingly taking the form of symbolic figures, chattering in Scott’s head, but taking no action to help or hinder him.

DARKSEID: If he leaves Darkseid, he’ll still find Death!
HIMON: If he leaves Apokolips, he’ll find the universe!!!
SCOTT: Let me be Scott Free—and find MYSELF!

And with that, he’s through the Boom Tube, Darkseid’s war with New Genesis is triggered, and Darkseid gets to do his usual speechifying before we fade out.

Evanier reports that Kirby was starting to realize his books were about to come to a screeching halt as DC prepared to drop the axe, so it’s not surprising this book seems a little rushed; as mentioned, there were a series of little “Young Scott Free” back up features throughout the comic, and I assume that the events of this issue would have been seen in that format had the book been allowed to continue. But the writing was on the wall, and Kirby knew it, so he obviously felt the need to get this info out of the way. It’s too bad that we miss out on a few revelations (like exactly how Metron led Scott to Himon), but it’s still pretty well done, all things considered.

The New Gods #9--"The Bug!"

YOU MIGHT EVEN SAY IT...BUGS ME.

Here’s a weird thing I’ve noticed about Kirby: he’s really, really not interested in uniformity, even when it’s thematically appropriate. One the rare occasions when he has a group of characters wearing identical outfits—like the Justifiers or the pointy-headed guys who work for Granny Goodness—they’re just background rabble with no real personalities, almost always under the guidance of a more colourful and distinctive leader. Any other gang is usually going to have a widely variegated look to them—I already commented on the Female Furies, who are all radically different from each other despite all being part of an elite military unit, and in a larger sense, there’s the Apokoliptians in general: they may inhabit a ferocious, Darwinian hellscape under the total control of a monomaniacal egotist, but they sure value individualism! (Which leads to a powerful, if possibly unintended, theme of the saga: just because you’re not forced to dress the same and march in lockstep, doesn’t mean you have any real “freedom”.)

This tendency of Kirby’s is repeated in this issue of The New Gods, as we meet…THE BUG. As random as this character seems in the context of this story, Kirby was clearly laying the seeds for it in prior issues, once again making The New Gods seem like the most carefully planned of the Fourth World comics.

As you may recall, back in issue #7, we were informed that, during the epic war between New Genesis and Apokalips, the latter employed biological weapons against the former. The details were a bit vague, but apparently the result is that the caverns of New Genesis are swarming with sentient, semi-human insects who regularly swarm to the surface to raid New Genesisian supply depots. We see this in action in the opening pages of this issue, as the puny “Forager” leads a troop of bugs to an (unidentified) food source, overwhelm the sentries on the walls, and make off with gigantic sacks full of some kind of nosh. “Remember—everyone must try to make it back to the colony!” declares Forager, somewhat unnecessarily. I mean, I know the Bugs aren't big on thinking for themselves, but was there a big chance that several of them were likely to lay down and die if he hadn’t said that?

Anyway, as the Bugs dash off, the New Genesisian monitors come swarming in with, you guessed it, bug spray. Swooping overhead like crop dusters, the deadly fumes take out a seemingly large proportion of the fleeing bugs. I gotta say, this whole scene makes me a little uncomfortable. I already mentioned that the Apokoliptish folks don’t always act like clichéd bad guys, and in some ways display traits that are usually elevated to heroic status; now we see the New Genesisians acting uncomfortably like villains, attempting to wipe out a whole race of clearly intelligent beings. What’s really off about this is that the Bugs mostly resemble human beings in bug costumes (each one appearing like a different insect species, no less). It’s possible that the colorist accidentally coloured them pink instead of green, but still, these guys talk and think and generally behave like sentient beings, and the Monitors (who are consistently portrayed as a little on the fascist side, again, for such a freedom-loving planet) just wipe them out indiscriminately.

The New Gods, as a comic, only lasted a couple more issues, so it’s hard to say what Kirby had planned, but I can’t help but see this as a glimpse at the future. Was he planning to subvert the audience’s perception of New Genesis as a utopia? Is it possible that the others aren’t aware of the Monitors’ ongoing campaign against the bugs? Were the Monitors (who, incidentally, wear identical costumes) going to be revealed as villains later on? As the “cops” who clash with the young hipsters throughout the series, it’s a role that would certainly fit them.

Anyway, Forager makes a get away by diving into the water, below the fumes, and makes his way back to the mound.

Meanwhile, Orion and Lightray are resting up on the roof of a building from their clash with Kalibak last issue, which in typical fashion, means a lot of speechifying about how the dark night has given way to the dawn. At least from Lightray; Orion, of course, is still a grumbling, bloody mess. “Let the coming light be bright and strong,” pronounces Lightray. “Let it play upon these wounds—let it bring things that wash—the pain—with pleasantries—“ he trails off as a woman in a pink coat walks out onto the balcony. “Go on—you’ve got the floor—“ she says. Lightray, always happy to receive an invitation to pontificate, lights up like a Christmas tree.

The woman, Eve Donner, is a wealthy playwright, who recognizes the two companions from “that top-secret police battle in the city last night!” Uh…if it was top secret, how does she know about—oh, never mind. Anyway, Eve ruminates about monsters as we get our first real glimpse of Orion this issue:



Back on New Genesis, the bugs are tearing into the fruits of their labour. Apparently forager gets the special privilege of being allowed to eat alone, as a reward for his good work, but that doesn’t spare him the Bug’s tendency to fight over food, as a large, tusked bug wanders over and tries to snatch his meal. Forager puts up a good fight, but it is ended by the arrival of “Prime One”. If this was “Starship Troopers”, Prime One would be the Brain Bug—not the leader of the colony (there’s a queen, of course) but the one who does the thinking and strategizing. Prime One has always taken a special interest in Forager, and as he takes him aside into a private chamber, we see why: Forager is a human in a bug suit.



…Which doesn’t make him any different from the rest of the colony as far as I can see, but you get the point. Anyway, Foragers’ alien feelings of compassion and imagination have inspired Prime One to think of forging a truce with the Eternals above. Before this idea can be explored much further, though, the invasion alarm goes off, and Forager is called away to join the Bugs in defending their colony against what’s described as “The armored killer species!” We don’t even get a good look at these things, except that they seem to be gigantic versions of the Bugs.

“But, on Earth, ‘peace’ is the momentary word!” (I thought ‘Grease’ was the word, but OK.) Orion is…no kidding—sunbathing on Eve’s balcony, his hideous face still visible. There follows another of these scenes in which normal Earthlings meet with Orion and Lightray and we get a kooky clash of cultures. While these often seem like space-filler to me, I think I see what Kirby was doing: Orion is slowly building up a crew of followers, like any God, new or old. Eve is particularly significant because she has a whole “beauty and the beast” thing going on, crushing on Orion despite his horrific visage and all that. She starts falling into the New God’s pattern of speechifying, but starts as Orion opens his eyes. “A pity!” he proclaims. “All that flowery crud ripped off—by untimely fright!” Eve reacts with appropriate ire, and Orion, dismissing his sunbathing as “the practice of lizards and idiots”, jumps to his feet and starts shouting, rattling the very rooftops with his anger.



Back to the bugs; the mysterious invaders have been driven off with the help of an old comrade, Mantis. Mantis, of course, showed up in a prior issue of the Forever People, and as a dude in a bug suit, it’s not particularly surprising to learn that he’s related to the bugs, though his exact relationship is a bit foggy. One thing’s clear, though: he’s angling for Prime One’s job, and apparently he’s passed the interview with his defeat of the invaders. The problem for Prime One is that the bugs don’t really have a retirement plan—deposed Prime Ones are killed by the queen (the “All-Widow”) in a ritual sacrifice. Forager, who considers Prime One a father to him and is burdened by those all-too-human feelings of familial affection, can’t help but step in and interfere with the ceremony, rousing the ire of the other Bugs. Prime One accepts his fate coolly, but as he’s being led off he tells Forager that it’s his responsibility to carry out his plan to form an alliance with the New Gods. He knows that Mantis is a tool of Apokolips, and despite his supposed agenda of freedom from the New Genesisians, siding with Darkseid will only end with their being oppressed by a different group. The only hope is to make contact with the “Eternal” on Earth who could use his help and try to forge an alliance with him.

When Forager asks how he’ll make contact with Orion without being squashed, Prime One calmly informs him that he’s one of the Eternals himself, which Forager doesn’t take well. “No! I don’t believe it! I’m a bug! If you’re a bug—then—I AM A BUG!” he screams. Prime, however, steps calmly down into the pit to be killed by the All-Widow. Forager, however, raises a ruckus, and the All-Widow puts out a hit on him, as well.

Back on Earth, the scene is wrapping up rather cryptically as Orion recovers his composure and prepares to leave. Eve, who’s gone from affection to fear at Orion’s temper, now says she feels sorry for him—“You’re big--! But not bigger than what’s eating you! Your enemy, Darkseid, will use it against you!” Orion responds that he will use his wits against Darkseid, and “though I pay for victory with death—I shall seek you out in that final moment!” In response to her consternation, there follows this cryptic exchange:

ORION: At that moment, madam--you’ll have the choice of greeting me with scorn—or a tear!
LIGHTRAY: It would mean our victory, lady! You shall judge Orion! –and none shall do it for you!

As they take off, Eve wishes for Orion to find some kind of peace in the future.

Despite the fact that not much has happened to Orion in this episode, plot-wise, his story here demonstrates that Kirby’s writing was improving dramatically as the series went on, and it’s a great encapsulation both of the characters and the themes of the comic.

I’ll have more to say on this in a moment, but first we have to wrap up the story: Orion finally returns to Dave Lincoln’s apartment, only to find the police waiting to arrest him for massive property destruction. Yeah, you’d think. Meanwhile, Forager makes a desperate escape from the colony, now bent on killing him. As Matis opens a Boom Tube to Earth, Forager leaps through, yelling defiance, and makes his escape to Metropolis. To be continued.

It’s issues like this that make me so frustrated that Kirby was unable to finish this story properly. Sure, he was often sloppy and haphazard in his plotting, relying heavily on deus ex machinas and awkward plot spackling or exposition, and he’s constantly described as a guy who made stuff up as he went along. But it seems pretty clear to me that he *did* have a plan in mind for The New Gods, and scenes like the one with Eve Donner drive that home. Clearly, the big finale was being forshadowed here—besides being a fairly poignant “what might have been” moment, where Orion rejects the possibility of happiness in order to complete his mission, there’s some intriguing thematic stuff being set up. How was Darkseid planning to exploit Orion’s psychology? How was Eve going to redeem him and save the day by “judging” Orion? Tragically, we’ll never find out the answers to these questions.

The Forever People #9--"The Monster in the Morgue!"

"I-I'M BACK! DEADMAN'S WORK IS NOT FINISHED!!"

One of the more common traits among comic book writers these days is their willingness to go back and resuscitate older properties by reimagining them in new forms. This tendency is probably most closely affiliated with Alan Moore, who turned Swamp Thing into a truly memorable character, and Frank Miller, with his distinctive take on Daredevil and Batman. The modern standard bearer for this is Grant Morrison, who’s been busily reinventing the DC Universe for years now. But as with so many things, Kirby did it first.

We’ve already seen his attempt to put a new spin on Jimmy Olsen, and, by extension, Superman, but his ideas were too bold for DC’s flagship character, and the result was the cancellation of the title. But someone must have liked Kirby’s take on Supes, because almost immediately after the Superman experiment failed, Kirby was handed the reins to another, less pivotal character. The logic, clearly, was that Kirby’s bizarre touch would be more useful applied to a character that didn’t find an audience the first time around, as opposed to a character that had been beloved in his current form for decades. The only problem is, Superman, as an icon, invites reinvention, as we’ve seen in decades since. A more recent, obscure character is less likely to be adaptable, unless the concept truly didn’t work—and the character they chose was Deadman, who, simply put, did work.



As you may know, Deadman was created in the late 60s by Arnold Drake and Carmine Infantino, though he’s usually associated with rising star Neal Adams, who took over the art after a few issues. Deadman was a circus performer who was mysteriously murdered in the first issue, but became compelled to walk the Earth in spectral form in order to find his murderer. His power was that he could possess the bodies of anyone nearby, using them to accomplish his goals. The gritty premise, combined with Adams’ famously realistic artwork, did a lot to issue in the Bronze Age style of comics, and secured a cult following, but the comic was cancelled due to low sales after a year or two. Still, DC knew they had something worthwhile on their hands, hence their handing him over to Kirby.

It probably seemed like a good idea on paper, and it might have worked with another character, but Deadman and the King just weren’t suited to each other. For one thing, Kirby had repeatedly indicated that he wasn’t as happy working with other’s characters, and had deliberately attempted to keep the Fourth World free of other DC Universe trappings—which must have made it frustrating that it so rarely worked out that way. For another, Kirby honestly didn’t seem to like the character—Mark Evanier quotes him as saying, “How can you have a superhero with no body?” but, as is becoming clear the more I read about him, Kirby never said “no” to a challenge—and thus it was that Deadman ended up in a two-issue story in The Forever People.

I’ve sometimes wondered if I’m reading too much into what seem like metafictional winks throughout this series, but given the above context, it’s pretty obvious Kirby was extrapolating from the situation into the comic when he opens with a pseudo-Frankenstein mad scientist trying to raise a patchwork creature from the dead. The scientist, “Doc” Gideon, is even referred to as an “obscure dreamer”, much like Kirby himself…and the fact that his experiment fails doesn’t speak well of Kirby’s own mindset at the time.

But in fact, the Doc’s crackling electrodes have had an effect: they’ve recalled Deadman from beyond the grave (and cancellation). As I understand it, his comic had ended with his finding the man who killed him (a man with a hook hand, in a nod to “The Fugitive”) and being allowed to merge with the infinite. But now he once again walks the Earth; can science really undo the will of mystic destiny?

Meanwhile, the Forever People have just been walking down the street, minding their own business, when they’re thrust into another exciting adventure! Boy, trouble follows these kids around like cat hair on a tuxedo! Does that metaphor make any sense? Of course not! Moving on!

It’s the classic “old lady being mugged” bit, of course, and there’s not really a lot of suspense involved in wondering if a couple of goons with guns can overcome five superpowered hippies, one of whom has a “Megaton Touch”, another of whom can left a Mack Truck, and a third of whom has a hatband full of little thingies that can do pretty much whatever the plot requires at that moment. Needless to say, when the cops, rather lamely, show up on the scene, Big Bear has the thugs, and their car, well in hand. The old lady, one Trixie Magruder, argues their case for the cops, who realize that the FPs have put paid to a rash of burglaries in the neighbourhood.

Doc Gideon happens to be passing by, and as it turns out, Mrs. MacGruder is his landlady, but being a jerk, Gideon does anything possible to avoid having to get involved, sneaking up the rear stairs. Unbeknownst to him, though, he is being followed by the incorporeal Deadman. On entering his apartment, Gideon hits the books, and we learn that his experiments have incorporated research into the mysticism of Rama Kushna, the deity that guides Deadman’s fate. Man, science has gotten, like, so uptight these days. Scientists get hot under the collar at the mere mention of intelligent design or holistic healing, let alone dabbling in the dark forces man was never meant to know! How much we’ve lost since the seventies. All I can say is, when some Cthulhu cultist discovers a cure for cancer, they’ll be sorry, that’s for sure.

Gideon’s intense flipping through the book, sardonically observed by Deadman, is interrupted by “all that cackling and gabble” coming from Trixie’s room, where she and Beautiful Dreamer are having a midday slumber party. It seems that after 9 issues, someone finally got the nerve to tell Beauty that the tattered slave-girl rag she’s been sporting doesn’t really do her any favours, aesthetically. You’ve got to commend Beauty for her pure-minded rejection of sartorial vanity, and hey, I sure didn’t have a problem with her gadding around in what looked like a slightly overlarge napkin, but that thing probably was getting a bit stinky by now, so it’s probably a good thing that Trixie gives her one of her old dresses to wear:



And then, almost instantly, Serifan barges in, takes one look at this fairly nice dress, and decides to meddle by shifting it into a new form:



God, Serifan is a DOUCHEBAG. And what’s wrong with Beauty, anyway? She’s passive even for a Kirby heroine! This little clothes-swap is more than she’s done in any preceding issue, and it’s basically consisted of two people forcing her to wear clothing she didn’t really have any interest in, but has just passively accepted them.

The fact that this dress suddenly seems to have amplified her physique to va-va-voom levels, and that her proportions will continue to slowly grow to absurd levels over the course of this and the next issue, is small consolation. Seriously, you’d think a hippie chick like this would be all, I am woman, hear me roar, you know? Instead she’s got less personality than Mother Box.

At any rate, Beauty immediately blends into the background again so that Serifan can brag about his cosmic cartridges, showing off yet another ability we’ve never seen before—the ability to bring a semblance of life to inanimate objects. And who just happens to be looking on as he does this? Yep, “Doc” Gideon, who immediately sees the value this power could have in his reanimation experiments. Well how conveeeeeeeenient.

For some reason, Kirby immediately recaps the previous page, with Trixie and the FPs reiterating how awesome Beauty looks now (Beauty herself, of course, just hangs her head and stays quiet.) Despite this disrespect displayed to her property, Trixie thinks the FPs are a hoot and invites them to stay in her apartments without paying rent.

Doc Gideon breaks up the love-fest by introducing himself and reminding Trixie that he was invited to “one of your exciting séances tonight.” He reiterates to the FPs that Trixie is “a fine medium”. Without further delay, Trixie changes into a fortune teller’s costume and the gang gathers around the table with the usual trappings—crystal ball, brazier fill of smoking stuff, etc. It’s made almost immediately clear that Trixie’s a fake, so when strange lights start flickering around the table, she's more terrified than the others. (According to Big Bear, it’s courtesy Beautiful Dreamer’s illusion power, but she looks as blank-faced as ever while this is happening) While everyone is thus distracted, Gideon manages to snatch the “animating” capsule from Serifan’s discarded hat (by the way, is a hat really the best place to keep these objects of unimaginable power?)

Suddenly, by the will of the spirits and the power of coincidence, Trixie has a flashback to her days as a circus fortune teller, and a young acrobat named Boston Brand…who, surprise surprise, happens to be floating around in disembodied form at this very moment, now going by the name Deadman. Called forth by Trixie, he demands to know why he once again has been called forth to walk the land of the living. Trixie, terrified, blurts out that the man he thought he killed wasn’t his killer at all—the hook was on the wrong hand. D’oh!

Overwhelmed by stress, Trixie passes out, and the FPs are sufficiently distracted not to notice the absence of both “Doc” and the relevant cartridge for a few crucial moments…but eventually Serifan clues in. “I—I think we’ve been pre-occupied with the wrong incident!!”

Sure enough, Doc is already back at the morgue—man, that place must be right across the street—and taping the cartridge to the head of his monster, which almost immediately springs to life (no Frankensteinian finger-twitching here!) After a panel’s worth of triumphant crowing, the Doc suddenly realizes that he’s called into existence a huge, unruly creature who’s disoriented and pissed off, and that he has no discernable way of controlling it. Gee, there’s this book called Frankenstein, Doc. It details pretty specifically the potential pitfalls of tampering in God’s domain. You might want to check it out.

Naturally, a classic rampage follows:



…and quickly spills out onto the street. The Forever People (but not Beautiful Dreamer—seriously, this is some hardcore sexism right here) quickly home in on the beast, or rather, his cartridge, via Mother Box, and end up doing battle with him in front of a theatre showing, you guessed it, Frankenstein movies. That’s just a little too cutesy for me.

Turns out, because the creature is powered by Serifan’s cosmic cartridge, it absorbs the various rays and energy bolts that the FP throw at him—Vykin’s “Repelli-force”, Mark’s Megaton Touch—and send it back. Mark notices a small lump beneath the monster’s bandages, but is thrown away before he can snatch it. Serifan catches him with an anti-grav ray, but while that’s happening, the monster somehow manages to slip away. Vykin, with a sarcastic “Don’t bother helping me!” is able to de-magnetize himself (he was stuck to the wall by his own “magna-force”)…and then Big Bear wanders up, indicating that he almost snuck out of the superhero melee to go catch a movie.

Big Bear is AWES—wait, that’s actually kind of dickish. But he’s still awesome.

So who will stop the creature’s mindless rampage? “Doc” Gideon sure isn’t—he was rendered insensate by the creature and is being hauled away by the police. Meanwhile, the creature has made his way into the sewers, where he’s wreaking havoc on the main gas pipeline. Deadman, however, is on the job, and he’s decided to step in…literally. However, his attempt to possess the monster is blocked by the inverse energy from the cartridge, or some such gibberish. Deadman fights through the pain as the gas mains begin to explode left and right, but just as the citizens are gearing up for their Godzilla movie act as the flames pour out onto main street, the explosions suddenly stop.

The Forever People eventually show up to assess the damage, and Serifan makes up slightly for his recent jerkishness by capping the gas line. Shuffling through the rubble, the Forev Peeps dig up the monster’s body, apparently unsalvageable…but talking. Deadman is, of course, using the thing’s barely-used vocal cords to explain his plight to the FPs. The issue ends with Serifan pulling yet another Deus Ex Machina out of his hat to give Deadman a body by “compact[ing] the few atoms that still cling to you!” and allowing them to meet face to face for a while. The FPs shake his hand and pledge to help him find his killer. For at least one issue longer.

All things considered, this wasn’t too bad. If Deadman had to be injected into the Fourth World Saga, the Forever People was probably the best place for him, since, with the departure of Jimmy Olsen, that was the “random encounter” book without a tight plotline; by their nature, the FPs are able to meet and thus incorporate all kinds of characters into their storyline.

At any rate, this “free atoms” thing is only a temporary fix, so we’ll have to wait until next issue to learn what Kirby had in mind by way of giving the character a real body…and rest assured, it’s a doozy.

Mister Miracle #8--"The Battle Of The Id!"

HE'S LUMP! HE'S LUMP! HE'S IN MY HEAD!

I’ve already talked a bit about the subtext of the Fourth World, but it’s a little funny how inconsistent it is. Sometimes the saga is as superficial and broad as any other comic of the time; more often than not, though, the sheer power of Kirby’s stream-of-consciousness storytelling creates something resonant and fascinating. And I don’t mean to say that all the interesting stuff in the Fourth World is there by accident, either; it just seems like a lot of it comes straight from Kirby’s subconscious, without a lot of filtering. Kirby was uniquely capable of channeling his imagination directly onto the page, without necessarily trying to force an authorial interpretation; that’s one of his greatest strengths.

Still, it’s clear that sometimes he did have a specific idea for what he was trying to say, beyond a simple allegory (and he almost never slipped into straight sermonizing). Those are the times when the Fourth World is at its most fascinating, and this issue is one of those times.

The issue opens with Barda making her way back to the Female Fury barracks, leaving a trail of beat-up henchmen in her wake. “You ‘kill-crazy’ she-wolf!” Grunts one. “You’ll pay for this!” First of all, on Apokolips, isn’t being called “Kill-crazy” kind of a compliment? And secondly, she hasn’t really killed anyone. Maybe that’s what “Kill-crazy” means here. “You’re so crazy, you won’t kill!”

Perhaps I’m overthinking this.

The next pages are one of the very best two-page spreads in the entire saga—the interior of the Female Fury barracks, where the Furies are fighting (still?) over who gets to be the new leader now that Barda’s gone. Kirby seems to have blown through a whole bunch of designs here, all of them pretty great, in that distinctly Kirby “too-much-is-not-enough” way. I especially like the pirate chick:



But the girl with the two-foot-long steel finger, the green ersatz Catwoman, and the girl with mind-bogglingly enormous wing-flaps are all pretty cool too. It’s like a van full of hippies, a bunch of S & M enthusiasts, and a group of mythological Valkyries all collided and got their costumes mixed up.

Anyway, Barda shows up and reasserts herself: “I’m still in command! Make no mistake about that!!!” she announces, tossing several random Furies around. Wait, so she defected for several months so she could consort with Apokolips’ Public Enemy #2, and she’s still in command?!? Apokolips has a more flexible approach to military discipline than I would have thought. But then, given that they still haven’t chosen a new leader in all that time, maybe it just comes down to whoever can beat everyone up.

There’s some more extremely nice art—Kirby was on a roll—as we see the captured Mr. M crossing a bridge over a steaming, noisome pit somewhere deep within the fabled Section Zero. Turns out the pit is full of malformed, pathetic creatures (“whinning [sic] freaks” as the guard calls them) who are apparently there as punishment. What’s odd is that they’re never actually explained, but the implication is that these are what’s left of those who failed the challenge that Scott’s about to face.

The instant he enters the room, Scott’s knocked out by a tranq gun (so…Mr. World’s Greatest Escape Artist couldn’t get away from a couple of guys with sticks?) and some creepy ninja technicians prepare him for “‘psycho-merge!’--the ‘mind hook-up!’” “—with the Lump!” “Yeah! The Lump just loves intruders—in his world!” (That was sarcasm.)

Perhaps unsurprisingly, this is all being done for the sake of Granny Goodness’s amusement. Scott and The Lump will battle to the death—but not in any conventional arena:



Granny enters with her typical bravado, and along with her come two familiar faces: her pupil Virman Vundabar, and the ever-ambiguous Kanto. “I was dropped into a deep pit!!” says Virman, clicking his heels as he bows to Granny. “But Virman Vundabar, with the proper tools, was out of there in record time, Granny!” Um…is that supposed to impress us? The fact that he climbed out of a pit? Someone’s pretty desperate to curry favour with the boss. Kanto, meanwhile, elides Granny’s questioning by claiming that, when he had Scott within his sights, he “merely chose not to succeed” because he knew Scott was on his way to this arena. “Bully for you!” sneers Granny Goodness, clearly as unconvinced as the rest of us are. “Get this show on the road!!”

But before that can happen, there’s one more audience member to arrive—who the guards describe as a person of high rank, but who “bears the status of ‘non-being!’” “This can be none other than the infamous ‘mystery prisoner’ of Section Zero!” thinks Virman. Who do you think it is? Go on, guess.



Yep, it’s Tigra, who, as you may recall, happens to be Darkseid’s wife. I’m not quite sure what the deal is—are they divorced? Because I’m not really sure why Darkseid didn’t just do away with her, if he found her so embarrassing. Could it be that ol’ Stoney Lonesome actually bears a spark of human feeling for her?

Oh yeah, and that son of hers, of course, is Orion, who she’s never met and has no idea who his real parents are. But Tigra seems to know that fate will drive them together eventually. It always does, doesn’t it?

But now it’s time to start the show. Mister Miracle awakens in a vast plain inside the mind of The Lump, observed by Granny and her compeers. A panel later, he’s knocked out by a familiar pink arm. “You’re the Lump!!” observes a quick-on-the-uptake Scott. “B-but not like you were on that table!” You know, I hate to nitpick, but technically Scott didn’t see him on the table…

The long and the short of it is, The Lump occupies a mental realm of his own devising—apparently on a permanent basis, which isn’t surprising, considering that he’s basically a useless wad of flesh in the real world. Whereas here, he’s a useful wad of flesh. “Life without form”, he calls himself. He can shift both his own shape and the landscape around him, though curiously he never alters his own self-image to something more pleasing to the eye. He can, however, transform his physique into pure muscle, grow or shrink, spout spines, breathe fire, or change—



Um, yes. Anyway, the point is that The Lump hates company, and he controls the mental realm in which Scott finds himself, so he’s seriously outmatched. Scott attempts to make peace and calm down the raging sac of pink goo, but the Lump is on a serious ego trip, and he’s not big on conversation.

The battle rages for a while, and it’s a corker—Kirby embraces the possibility of a shape-shifting warrior to its fullest. But Scott, of course, is an escape artist, so you know it’s only a matter of time before he finds a way out.

Meanwhile, Barda’s been busy, apparently having won over the trust of the Female Fury Brigade once more. I guess that whole business of Stompa, Lashina, Mad Harriet and Burnadeth trying to kill her a few issues ago is all in the past, huh? Anyway, the sexy Gilotina manages to do the old “seduce the guard” trick (made more plausible by the fact that these two know each other, and he’s been hitting on her for weeks) and renders him unconscious, allowing a flood of Furies to swarm into Section Zero and overpower the operators.

Back in The Battle in the Id, Scott is faring poorly against The Lump, but once he’s at the thing’s mercy, being crushed in his rubbery grip, he at least manages to get him to listen. As Scott points out, killing him just means that more intruders will enter the Lump’s realm, again and again, and the Lump will just have to keep killing them, forever, at the whim of Granny and her servants.

But the Lump keeps up his death grip, and just as things look bleak, the Furies burst in. Tigra, who had been watching the battle with contempt, takes up the cause with glee and blows away the guards. Kanto, as ever, remains neutral, but Granny can’t resist cackling that Scott is dead, and that Barda is a traitor. This really sets her off, as she gets ready to crush Granny: “Why, I’m the purest, most superior product you ever turned out!” Again, we have this weird case of divided loyalties on Barda’s part—she seems to think she’s still being loyal to Darkseid in some weird way, and that it’s OK to whomp on Granny and her minions because they’ve strayed from true loyalty. Since, as we’ve seen, the code of Apokolips seems to allow for some pretty vicious infighting, I guess she may have a point. Nevertheless, Barda seems willing even to defy Darkseid to get Scott back, and is on the verge of crushing the life out of Granny in a berserker rage, when Scott himself pops up.

Yep, it’s another “See, I escaped! Now let me tell you how!” denouement. But in this case, it was pretty reasonably set up; Scott managed to close his case to the Lump by breaking off a piece of glass, which had been fused out of the ground by the Lump’s fire-breathing, and using it to show him his reflection. Getting a glimpse of himself sent the Lump screaming in terror, deep into the recesses of his mind, and Scott was able to escape. Scott demonstrates by holding up the piece of glass he used…in the mental landscape…which he’s now somehow holding in the real world. Oops.

I make fun of these books a lot here at Fourth World Fridays, mostly due to the awkward dialogue and sometimes erratic plotting. But when you really start to look for them, it becomes obvious just how many ideas Kirby packed into this series, and you start to get a little staggered by his genius. If he’d only been a little better at consistently conveying those ideas, the Fourth World might easily stand as the greatest comic book series, like, ever. This issue is one of his best, with a lot of meat to chew on. What is the Lump, exactly? Is he a personification of Kirby’s own fears? Every artist risks withdrawing too deeply into his own imagination and thus, losing the ability to relate to others or face the outside world, a process that is portrayed pretty concisely here. The Lump really is Scott’s opposite number, but whereas Scott uses his talents to set himself and others free, the Lump withdraws into extreme solipsism and becomes a tool of the forces of evil.

Heady stuff. Kirby was really hitting his stride here; it’s too bad that the very next issue we’ll be looking at saw the beginning of corporate interference in this book, and the slow decline of the saga as a whole…