One "N" or Two? -- A "Comical Wednesday" Post!

A million years or so ago, so long ago that my hair almost had some color left in it, I "promised" my Canadian readers -- all three or four of them -- that I would do a post specifically aimed at them, one where I tell how not one, but two modern-day, American comic book characters have their origins in the Canadian comic books published in the 1940s! We'll, after a wait this long, this post is assuredly going to be anti-climactic, but such are the chances you take when you read this blog.

I'm assuming that if you know anything about comic books, you've at least heard of the X-Men. What you may or may not know is that they've been around since the early 1960s, and were one of the few Marvel superhero series that never hit really big, but instead kinda limped along. They were even canceled, and revived as an all-new team in 1975.

It's that (almost) all-new team, and its eight million variations and spin-offs, that eventually took comics fandom by storm. (Ouch! Sorry for the inadvertent pun, which only X-Men insiders will catch*)

(*Okay, since some people get really ticked off when they're not clued in on the private jokes around here, the super-heroine known as "Storm" is a member of the X-men. Get it? You're welcome.)

The first fifteen issues were drawn by the late Dave Cockrum,  and the series was catching on with the comic fans by the time that Canadian-born artist John Byrne took over and made it a solid hit.

("Byrne" is pronounced "bern," by the way. As an employee during the mid to late 1980s of the Worcester, Massachusetts flagship branch of That's Entertainment, the Eisner Award Winning pop culture & entertainment emporium, I spent a great deal of time correcting customers who pronounced it "brine" or "byron.")

By the way, as someone who has pretensions to being a writer  myself, I do not mean to slight the X-Men's writer, Chris Claremont, for his contribution to the title's success. Despite his penchant for having so many sub-plots he would occasionally forget one or two over the course of many months, his continuing storylines and terrific characterizations made the title a lot more than "jest purty pictures."

(Besides, if I did try to get by without giving Mr. Claremont due credit, yet another John -- not Mr. Byrne, but a close friend of mine -- would no doubt take me to task for it!)

Okay, okay, since this is more or less supposed to be a Comical Wednesday feature about Canadian comic characters, here's some background on John Byrne's early comic reading days, as related by Byrne himself, in 1980.* Picture it: The X-Men as a title and the X-Men as a team were becoming "hot" for the first time in almost 20 years, and on the verge of  frequent character crossovers, Wolverine origins, and spinning off eight million other ongoing titles and mini-series. Fan Favorite John Byrne is being interviewed about the origins of the super-team Alpha Flight, who were introduced in the pages of The X-Men itself!

"Snowbird, the shape-changer... her power is from... well, originally in my mind got her power from Nelvana, an Eskimo goddess character from the Canadian Whites, which were the Canadian comics of the 1940s. We'll probably never say that, unless we find out there really was an Eskimo goddess named Nelvana, but that's who I figure she got her powers from."

Ever hear of Alpha Flight's Snowbird? Here she is!

Well, eventually, Byrne introduced Snowbird's mother, Nelvanna -- not Nelvana, note the double "N" -- in the pages of Alpha Flight.

And, predictably for modern-day comic books, she didn't stick around long...

And now, fellow babies, a special treat for those who care enough about this subject to wanna see an original Nelvana story! The special treat is, of course... errr... an original Nelvana story!

Those who don't particularly care can stop reading now... but please join me for part two of this Comical Wednesday series in another week or so!

The following eight-page Golden Age comic story appeared in Super-Duper Comics #3,  in 1947 by F.E. Howard Publications, LTD.

Next: A Mister named Monster! Thanks for your time!

(And for those of you who care about this kinda stuff... Happy New Year!)

Ego

Okayyyy, here goes:

I'm typing this sentence (ort  snetences) as I usually do, which is with my sloppy but swift two-fingered typing method. ASnmd I'm not going to caoprrect any pof it,

[Translation: I'm typing this sentence (or sentences) as I usually do, which is with my sloppy but swift two-fingered typing method. And I'm not going to correct any of it.]

But of course, ordinarily, I do correct stuff like that, because I have this incredible ego that wants to fool you into thinking that I never make any mistakes. And "I do correct stuff like that" because even though it's only a freakin' blog, I am a Grammar Nazi at heart. But since I'm not perfect, I let some things slide here and there, ya know? That's why I don't attack other bloggers who confuse "you're" and "your," for example...

And believe it or not, I was able to type the last two paragraphs without making any mistakes.

No, really.

Really!

Thanks for your time.

I've Never Known...

Hey, fellow babies! Here's something really different for Yours Truly! It's a straightforward love poem -- although some have said it reads more like a song -- that I wrote a while back. Yeah. Me. A love poem. Call the Believe It or Not! people.

Thanks for your time.

*  *  *  *  *

I've Never Known...

I have loved several times in my lifetime,
But I never have found lasting bliss.
But this time, I do think, is the right time,
For I've never known love quite like this.

I just cannot escape what I'm feeling,
And I think about you all day long,
But the thoughts are all very appealing,
And I've never known love quite so strong.

In the night, with my thoughts of you, dearest,
Hey, who knows, I might grin in my sleep!
You're the person I want to have nearest,
For I've never known love quite so deep!

It is almost a kind of addiction.
I will stay with you. Oh, yes, I'm sure!
Or I wouldn't dare make that prediction.
Girl, I've never known love quite so pure.

I'll admit I've been goo goo and sappy,
But I swear that the way that I feel
Makes me babble because I'm so happy!
And I've never known love quite so real.

All your traits are incomparable, baby.
Yes, you're talented, clever, and kind.
You just dazzle me, and there's no "maybe!"
Dear, I've never known love quite so fine.

I had never expected to find you,
This love hit me from out of the blue,
May your love for me forever bind you.
I've just never known love quite so true.

Oh, my heart and my soul are on fire.
There's no holding it back; out it pours
As the fever burns higher and higher.
I have never known love quite like yours.

Determination ~~ A Fable

The little girl came from a large family, mostly brothers. There were so many things she wanted to do alongside them, so many games she wanted to play that they could... and so many voices in her head saying "You can't do that. You're just a girl." So many doors locked, so many gates barred... "Boys are stronger." "Boys are smarter."

She laughed at the silly voices every time. "Let me pass!" she insisted. And she passed. And that was that.

When she wanted to leave her childhood home and marry, the voices said, "You can't, not yet! You still have responsibilities here." But she knew it was time to start living for herself. The voices sought to block her departure.

She set the wedding date and packed her bags. "Let me pass!" she insisted. And she passed. And that was that.

All through the middle decades of the 20th Century, when it was the woman's so-called "place" to raise the children, cook, and clean, she did all that and much, much more. The voices implored her to remain in her station, and not do volunteer work, not manage her husband's income, and not do minor refurbishings of their home. "You're doing far too much!" reprimanded those ever-present voices. "Stick to your assigned position as a wife and mother!"

She shook her head and laughed as they stood in front of all she hoped to accomplish. "Let me pass!" she insisted. And she passed. And that was that.

When her husband died, the young widow was perfectly suited to continue raising her children as a single mother, having coordinated so much of their lives to this point anyway. And her guidance continued long into their adulthood. She would always be their mother, she reasoned. They would never "catch up" to her; she would always "outrank" them. The voices said "At their age, you shouldn't help them anymore! They're adults!"

She countered with "But they're adults I'm responsible for bringing into this world... and you're in my way. Let me pass!" she insisted. And she passed. And that was that.

In time, her eyes grew weak, as did the legs, the ears, and even the mind which was once so sharp. When advanced age threatened to rob her of the independence she'd lived by for so many years, she knew that her work was done. And the voices, though not as strong as they used to be, still droned on. "You have to keep trying! Your loved ones will miss you! You can't just give up!"

The old woman smiled one last time. "They'll get by. So shut up. This, like everything else, will be done on my terms. Let me pass!" she insisted.

And she passed.

And that was that.

The Maple Tree

Is it possible

To take pride

In the accomplishments

Of someone

In whose creation

And molding

You took

Absolutely no part?

I wonder...

So many similarities

Do I see.

I know that

In a different life,

A different world,

I could have pushed

This child

In a swing

Attached to the branch

Of a maple tree

And watched her grow

Somewhat

Like myself,

And so much

Like the tree

As well.

So strong!

Always pushing,

Always daring

That swing

To take her

Ever higher.

Of course,

The real world intrudes.

It always does.

And she does perform

So admirably in it.

But still,

She strives

To play her own songs,

And succeeds!

And she inspires others

To find

Their own music

As well.

But lately,

I sense a weariness,

And it disturbs me.

I sense a fatigue

That cannot be allowed.

Perhaps if I'd been there

During her childhood,

In reality,

I'd have the right

To lend a hand now

And help,

If I could.

For this voice

Should never be stilled,

Even momentarily!

Not from without,

Nor,

God forbid,

From within.

Never from within.

*  *  *  *  *

Don't over-analyze this one too much, fellow babies. That can cause more trouble than it's worth. I oughtta know; I'm famous for doing that!

Thanks for your time.

By Request...

Okay, fellow babies...

Until I come up with a "real" post, this photo, illustrating an internet tradition, will get the photo of the dead man's arm off the very top of my blog!

You're welcome.

Thanks for your time.

George's Last Words ~~ A Pome

The note they found

Next to George's body

Said,

Simply,

They told me

That before killing myself

I should talk to someone.

Anyone.

I thought about it,

And there really wasn't

Anyone

I wanted to talk to.

Not even myself.

So here I am.

*  *  *  *  *

Well... I thought it was funny.

Thanks for your time.