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THE
IMAGINARY STORIES OF SUPERMAN
A Full-Length Remembrance!
Part
One:
In the Beginning, There Was Krypton
"This is an Imaginary
Story. Aren't they all?"
So wrote Alan Moore to kick
off "Whatever Happened to The Man of Tomorrow?", an amazing tale that
marked no less than the end of Superman's Silver Age as well as the
final adventure of the Man of - but wait! We've got a decade or so of
Imaginary Stories to discuss first.
For the uninitiated and/or
just plain foggy of mind, Imaginary Stories (IS's) were a staple of the
Superman family of comic books throughout the 1960s. And to those who
might ask, as Alan Moore suggests, if "Imaginary" is not a bit of a
redundant label for any story in which Superman appears: not if you're
editor Mort Weisinger and his stable of writers, locking yourselves into
an ever-expanding but nonetheless unbending continuity. The "Imaginary"
moniker was a way for a writer to explore a tantalizing, unlikely, or
simply silly story concept that could not play out in the "real" life of
a hero who'd irrevocably lost his home planet, was implicitly sworn to
celibacy, and never made a friend or an enemy who wouldn't love to soar
spandexed through the air, same as him. 
Most fans from back in the
day have a favorite IS, while a vocal minority professes its dislike of
the overall concept. But no matter, the IS's were undeniably a key
component of the story of Superman and his associates throughout the
1960s and beyond. Imagine that era without them, and you lose a
considerable amount of color and a whole lot of fun.
Comprehensive lists and
analysis of IS’s are elusive (see Resources below), but some Supe
scholars cite "Superman's Other Life", comprising all of
Superman
#132 in 1959, as the genesis of the genre. Interestingly, this story
does not strictly meet the IS specs, which included at least two (but
more likely four or five) disclaimers that the depicted events “may or
may not ever happen". Instead, writer Edmund Hamilton frames a "what if"
scenario - Krypton avoiding destruction and our hero’s subsequent life
thereon - within a real-time session on a scenario-spinning super
computer in the Fortress of Solitude. The Univac predicts that Kal-el
would have enjoyed a younger brother, Zal, before losing all of his
family in an accident as a young adult. As Supe, Batman, and Robin
(don't ask) watch the monitor, they see Kal’s mentor, a space control
officer, become the accidental super-hero Futuro. Fate is not to be
denied, even in computer projections, and a visiting Earthling named
Lois Lane sweeps Futuro off his feet. Before he and Lois leave for
married life on Earth, Futuro transfers his powers to Kal, whose costume
for his role as Superman on Krypton is amazingly close to the one we all
know and love. It's a barn-burner of a story, one of the first
full-length "novels" of the Superman family of titles, and an impressive
launching pad for a creative concept that produced a sizeable catalog of
tales that were variously great, fluffy, and paint by numbers.
The
first official Imaginary Story featuring Superman would appear to
have been "Mr. and Mrs. Clark (Superman) Kent" as told in
Lois Lane
#19 in 1960. Even though the title editor felt you needed a little
reminder of Clark Kent's alter ego, I bet you can still guess the
identity of Mrs. Clark Kent. Yes, it's that famous triangle of
Lois, Clark, and Supe gone marital, but with very little bliss. Poor
Lois faithfully keeps her spouse's hero status a secret, while fielding
a string of slights and putdowns from friends and neighbors regarding
husband Clark's milquetoast tendencies. The story’s opening narrative
conveys a near giddiness in announcing that what we are about to read
is, indeed, "only the first of many such tales which could very well
happen in the future... but perhaps never will!" One can almost hear
editor Weisinger, his responsibility being ten or more Supe-related
stories a month, thinking "Goldmine!"

Let me now say that as a
young reader, I loved almost all of these stories. I found them
enjoyable, creative, and - in their ability to break down the thematic
structure of Superman's life (if only for eight pages) - very exciting.
Part Two of this article spotlights a handful of favorites, plus one
Imaginary Story too famous to ignore.
Resources: I've been
on and off the web for a few years looking for a full listing of
Imaginary Stories, and finally found this as I was finishing this
article. It "may or may not" be complete, but there are certainly more
stories here than I can remember, plus a couple of intriguing entries
from Superman’s very early years. Scroll down the page to Imaginary
Stories at
http://www.dcuguide.com/chronology.php?name=hypertime
Part
Two: Red, Blue, and Dead
I'm not hard to figure when
it comes to favorite Imaginary Stories - I went for the blockbusters.
The tales below are all faves, save for one.
"The
Amazing Story of Superman-Red and Superman-Blue",
Superman
#162, 1963. Chided by the tiny Kandorians for his failure to eliminate
crime and disease and - oh, yes - return Kandor to normal size, Superman
undergoes a risky experiment to broaden his mental capabilities and work
that to-do list. The expansion instead splits him into two identical
Supes, each with all the requisite powers and an enhanced
super-intellect to boot. For ever after, it’s all good: problems global
and personal are solved, including Lana and Lois each getting a Supe,
with the latter couple retiring to New Krypton, built by the now
life-sized Kandorians. The lack of
tension in this utopian yarn by Leo Dorfman is often cited as a fault,
but the future SNAG (Sensitive New Age Guy) in me found this to be a
highly satisfying comic book experience. (Trivia Alert: while a strong
appeal of this tale is the uplifting art of Curt Swan and George Klein,
Weisinger nonetheless had
Lois Lane
regular Kurt Schaffenberger re-draw the faces of Lois and Lana for their
scenes in the last chapter. This despite Swan's ability to draw soulful
renditions of those characters, as seen in
his
Lois in the first page of the story.)
"The Fantastic Story of
Superman's Sons",
Superman
#166, 1964. Though Superman's wife is never identified in this tale, she
IS human, and the twin sons they produce are an unmatched set: one with
dad's powers, the other earthbound like mom. That the mortal brother
might have a slight self-esteem problem is an obvious thematic choice,
but one that's given thoughtful and compelling development in this
book-length telling.
Similarly, readers will likely guess what it takes for young Kal
II to prove himself, but getting there - including a sojourn in Kandor
and a time-visit to Granddaddy Jor-el - is a lot of fun. Another
Swan/Klein treasure, scripted by sci-fi veteran Edmund Hamilton, who
tells a story both sweet and adventuresome.
"The Super Family from
Krypton",
Superboy #95,
1962. Jor-el and Lara escape in a conveniently enlarged rocket with
their infant son. The space immigrants are befriended by the Kents but
sensationalized in the press, thanks to a hot-headed reporter named
Perry White. An extended stay on Earth looks dicey until Jor-el, in
addition to a few Superman-style rescues, begins shaking his
super-Einstein groove thing. Whenever there's a problem (usually
mythos-related), he's there with a fix: Kandor, Luthor's hair,
Kryptonite, even legs for Lori Lemaris! Eventually, the el family does
go house hunting in outer space, but not before handing off Kal's
Superboy duties - by way of a super-powered formula - to the Kent's
adopted son, an Earthling named Clark.

This
yarn is a sentimental fave, but a re-reading reveals how intentionally
Superboy
was designed for younger fans. The writing is simplistic, and each turn
of events earns a narrative re-cap ("Ironic, eh readers? In this story,
Lex Luthor DOES have hair and LIKES Superboy!"). One also finds
interesting foreshadowing of the later "Superman Red and Blue", what
with more than one super-powered hero on the scene and Jor-el's mental
capability to solve most every problem.

"The Death of Superman",
Superman
#149, 1961; perhaps the most famous IS. Having gone to great lengths to
trick The Man of Steel (and the reader) into believing he's reformed,
Luthor lures Superman to a concentrated Kryptonite radiator and kills
him.
An
impressive array of super-heroes and world and interplanetary leaders
file before Superman's body in state. Supergirl, still unknown to the
public at the time, captures Luthor and takes him to trial in Kandor,
where he's sentenced to eternity in the Phantom Zone. Many folks cite
this as their all-time favorite IS. I don't like it, for the obvious
reason that Superman dies, but also because he's tricked and murdered;
there's nothing resembling a fair fight to the finish.
It was a powerful and important
story of the era - written by none other than Jerry Siegel - but when I
was trying to reassemble a run of '60s
Superman
comics a few years ago, I put this one off till the end.
The above represent a small
sampling of the stories and ideas that appeared beneath the IS banner.
Left undiscussed are Jimmy Olsen marrying Supergirl, Clark Kent and
Bruce Wayne growing up as brothers, Jimmy and Lucy Lane's son marrying
Superman and Lois Lane's daughter (ulp - first cousins?!), Lois as a
Super-Maid from Krypton, Lex Luthor variously as Clark's brother,
Kal-el's father, and Lois' husband, and Superman's serial marriages -
all in one telling - to Lois, Lana, and Lori.
Events of the later 1960s
slowed the IS output to a trickle before they effectively disappeared.
For one thing, DC lost me as a reader. This was not particularly
significant on its face, but as a representation of comic fans old and
new who, like me, were gravitating to the Marvel Comics line, it was a
big deal. Seeking lost ground, DC began to emulate Marvel's multi-issue
sagas. As Craig Shutt notes in his intro to
DC's Greatest
Imaginary Stories,
the format left little room for narrative-busting IS's and wacky,
DC-style one-offs (bad news for Jimmy Olsen as Were-Wolf fans).

By 1971, Julius Schultz had
succeeded Mort Weisinger, and he quickly leaned into re-vamping DC's
heaviest hitter. According to Shutt, the former
Flash
editor had not much cared for the IS concept, and he certainly had
plenty of non-imaginary issues on the stove, what with neutralizing
Kryptonite and making over Clark as a tele-journalist.
And so the great stable of
Imaginary Stories became largely a thing of DC's fabled past. Julie
Schultz could well have been considered the genre's executioner, had he
not green-lighted what I consider the greatest Imaginary Story of all
time.
Resources: The
stories listed above, excepting Superboy’s and including Lois Lane’s
from Part One, can be found in the trade paperback
DC's Greatest Imaginary
Stories.
The volume also includes a few sort-of-IS's of several other
super-heroes. "The Amazing Story of Superman-Red and Superman-Blue" and
"The Death of Superman" have been reprinted often; both appear in the
enjoyable sampler
The Greatest Superman
Stories Ever Told,
another of DC's many compilations. And a complete scan of "Red and Blue"
is at
http://supermanthrutheages.com/tales2/redblue/
Part
Three: Whatever Happened to The Silver Age?
In 1986, Julius Schwartz
retired from DC. Concurrent with the departure of the man who'd been a
presence at the company for some forty years and Superman’s editor since
1971 was the arrival of John Byrne. The writer/artist was charged with
no less than a total re-boot of Superman: the character would be
re-created on a blank slate, with no obligation on Byrne's part to
acknowledge any portion of the Man of Steel's history or continuity,
both of which reached linearly - if somewhat tenuously - back to
Superman's first appearance in 1938. 
So it was that Schwartz -
at the end of his tenure as steward of the comics’ greatest super-hero -
faced both a challenge and an opportunity that were unique in Superman's
48 year run: to bring an incredibly huge body of work to a fitting
close. The result was a nearly 50 page epic entitled "Whatever Happened
to The Man of Tomorrow?", presented in two parts in the September '86
issues of
Superman and
Action
(the
Superman comic,
#423, became the last issue of the series that is now called
Superman
Volume 1). Set ten years in "the future", the story relates Lois Lane's
first hand account of Superman's disappearance and presumed death a
decade earlier.
Here I should say that I
did not follow Superman comics in the 1970s and '80s. In recent years,
I've read a reprint here and there, but there are elements of that era I
couldn't understand if I wanted to - most notably the rationale behind
and execution of the "Crisis on Infinite Earths" stories. So while I'd
noted the trade paperback reprint of “Whatever Happened” during my
bookstore Superman scoutings back around the turn of the millennium, I
initially considered the 1986 copyright warning enough that this story
was not for a Supe fan from the 1960s.
Wrong, very wrong! Here are
the Daily Planet's classic "staff of four", plus Lana, Krypto, Supergirl,
the Legion of Super-Heroes, and members of the JLA. Causing vastly more
trouble than usual are Luthor, Brainiac, Bizarro, the Legion of Super
Villains, and - for truly vintage fans - even Toyman and Prankster. A
'60s pedigree is perfect for this epic.
And while the large cast
list might remind you of a Fantastic Four wedding, have no doubt: this
IS an epic tale, deftly spun by Alan Moore with art by Curt Swan. There
are heroic deaths - quite a few - and heartfelt pathos. There are
surprising plot twists and satisfying resolutions. There are subtly
dropped clues that will send you back through the story again. I will
not spoil it for you - you would rightly hate me. The paperback edition
is still available, and if you've read this far, for six bucks you
should definitely pick it up. I pulled my copy to review for this
column, and I re-read every word. The story is a true gift to fans like
us.

Now - about the "Imaginary"
status: Moore states on page one that "This is an Imaginary Story". Then
he adds "Aren't they all?" Andrew Helfer, Schultz's successor in the
editor's chair, points out in the forward to the paperback edition that
directly following the original publication of this tale, ALL the
Superman stories of the past would become "Imaginary"; Byrne's re-boot
would implicitly make it so. The events in “Whatever Happened”, this
would seem to suggest, are as “real” as the reader cares to make them.
So where does that leave a
"pre-boot" fan like me? Did the Superman I loved as a boy really
come to career's end in a battle royale at the Fortress of Solitude,
summer of '86? 
Well, the Libra in me loves
indecision. But I hope you'll decide for yourself. Maybe all the
Superman stories ARE imaginary, but few are this good!
Resources and addenda:
The trade paperback of "Whatever Happened to the Man of Tomorrow?" lists
for $5.95, but is now officially out of print. Check your local comic
shop as well as ebay (a copy is going cheap at this writing). Amazon
currently has a selection of new & used, but they're pricey. You can
also find the story in its original comic book incarnation, via
Superman #423
and Action #583, at reasonable prices on ebay. For the background
information in Part Three of this article, I've borrowed liberally from
the paperback edition’s forward, written by Paul Kupperberg. Many thanks
to Bruce Dettman for his on-going inspiration by example, and for his
gentle but persistent badgering of me to write this article!
September 2007
Book Review
The Krypton Companion
Edited by Michael Eury
TwoMorrows Publishing, 2006
Reviewed by Alfred Walker
How can I say an unkind word about this book? Honestly, where else could
a guy like me go for information like this? Men of Tomorrow by
Gerard Jones, you say, and I say, yes, but that book put me to sleep
early every night. Eddie Zeno's wonderful biography of Curt Swan and
Mark Voger's similar tome on Kurt Schaffenberger, you reply, and I note,
yes, those are good books to have, but you're still talking only two of
several Silver Age Superman artists. Older, out-of-print fanzines, you
retort, where a few of the Krypton Companion interviews first
appeared some years back, to which I query: Got any?
The joy in this book virtually jumps off the pages. It's the literary
equivalent of a kaleidoscope, with each piece of colored glass an
attempt to shine a light on the minds of the editors, artists, and
writers who nurtured Superman from the dawn of the Silver Age to the end
of that fabled continuity in the the mid 1980s. There are lon-ng
profiles of Mort Weisinger, Edmund Hamilton, and Curt Swan, along with
similarly lengthy interviews with Al Plastino, Jim Shooter, and Cary
Bates. And tag each of those preceding phrases with "and many more".
There are art samples (somewhat sadly, reproduced in b&w) from just
about every artist of the era, with some fun rarities you've probably
never seen. There are timelines for all the Superman-related titles from
1958 through 1986. And there is a chapter length roundtable finale with
sixteen Superman creatives (Mark Waid, John Byrne, Alex Ross, etc.)
which, though I frankly haven't read every word of, I do know how it
ends ("What is your Silver Age Superman guilty pleasure?").
So what's not to like here? Well—how 'bout the font? This is the first
book ever for which I've had to get up out of bed and find my glasses.
You say, c'mon Alfred, you're not forty anymore, and I say that's my
point: who IS?!? At least half the folks to whom this book appeals would
appreciate just a little larger type, and maybe not so many gray
backgrounds. Then there's the organization: there sort of isn't any.
There are chapters with sub-headings labeled 1958-1964, 1965-1970, etc.,
but the material contained within does not necessarily coincide with
those periods. And there just isn't much thematic glue. It's really a
lot like a binder I keep (and I know some of you have similar creations)
of Superman articles I've found and printed off the internet over the
last eight or ten years. I love my binder! But if I were going to
publish it as a book, I think I'd feel compelled to bring some kind of
unity to all the pieces and parts.
Do these perceived shortcomings prevent my recommending this volume to
you without reservation or qualification? Great Scott, not! The price is
too cheap and life's too short. I'm sure the noted book reviewer Abraham
Lincoln would once again agree: people who like this sort of thing will
find this to be the sort of thing they like!
September 2007
O Brother, Who Art Thou?
(or The Spurious Super-Sibs)
by Alfred Walker

First, the dirty laundry: DC Comics
recycled stories. The pair of tales we're about to discuss features the
same concept, the same key plot device, and even some identical
narrative and dialog. I'm no expert on how often this happened, but in
searching the net for images of our featured covers, I practically
tripped over another pair of shared stories. The impetus for re-using a
reasonably good story concept was likely the very reason Superman's
editor rarely if ever got busted for it: reader turnover. DC's real-life
version of Perry White, Mort Weisinger, figured he had any given kid's
attention for about 5 years (dead on in my case); why not dust off a
yarn from the previous decade?
So here we are with two tales of
young men who each seem to be Kal-el's big brother. They share identical
evidence, which also serves as our evidence that someone pulled
1953's "Superman's Big Brother" (Superman
#80) as a source for 1961's "Superboy's Big Brother" (Superboy
#89). In both tellings, Clark's super-senses detect an unearthly rocket
on a crash course with his adopted planet. Superman/boy intercepts the
craft, ensuring a soft if fiery touchdown, duly noted by our hero as
reminiscent of his own Earth landing. An unconscious, perfectly
human-looking alien is found inside, along with a star chart inscribed
with (ulp!) Jor-el's handwriting! Supe's surprise is compounded by the
text of his dad's notes, which indicate that the map is to serve as a
navigational aid for this trip to Earth by... his son!
And there you have it: the arguably
thin strip of evidence Superman and Superboy each uses to conclude that
the big, amnesiac guy in spandex snoozing in the rocket - Halk Kar in
the earlier tale, Mon-el in the later - is his brother.

Fortunately for this article, the
stories' similarities, for the most part, end there as well. And
comparing the differences is at least as fun as noting DC's in-house
plagiarism. Rule #1: don't get hung up on continuity.
In Superman's
world, most of the Fifties are to the Sixties as apples are to
Applejacks.
Our earlier story here is very pre-Silver Age, so we get
nowhere wondering why Superman
doesn't recall the "big brother" experience recounted in the Superboy
tale.
What we can note with interest are
the different personalities displayed by Superman and his teenaged
earlier self. Superman is unfailingly deferential to the man he believes
is his older sib. As Halk Kar's powers slowly wane, Supe secretly covers
the big guy's blue-trunked butt in one super-deed after another, even
though ol' Halk is a bit of a blowhard whom we may not mind getting a
little comeuppance.
In contrast, Superboy presents as a
narrow-thinking jerk. When the holes in his "he's my brother from
Krypton" construct start to appear, Superboy suspects Mon-el of a plot
to deceive him. This is apparently an easier route for the Boy of Steel
than stepping back to recall that he himself connected the dots on the
El family theory. Instead, he sets out to bust Mon-el's chops, and comes
within a minute or two of poisoning the guy to death.
Because he's unwittingly put Mon-el
at death's door, Superboy must whisk through the last page or so of the
story tapping every bit of his super-teenaged ingenuity. At the
comparable point in his own tale, Superman has no such dilemma to solve
and is allowed the space to show a good deal of affection toward Halk,
along with the bittersweet sorrow that comes with the discovery of his
"brother's" true identity and Halk's need to return to his own world.
Superman has played a supporting role in this tale in more ways than
one, but we leave the story impressed with his loneliness and longing.

Superboy, on the other hand,
escapes his yarn without a proper apology to Mon-el, making only a hasty
promise to find a cure for the cosmic lead poisoning he induced in the
poor fellow - this as he banishes Mon-el to the Phantom Zone in the
story's final panel! Indeed, much like Mon-el's luck, the tale seems to
just run out. Quite an ignominious start for a character who went on to
become a Silver Age staple, albeit in the 30th century when Brainiac 5
finally heals and frees the guy (hey - what's an extra thousand years in
the Phantom Zone? It's not like you have to shave everyday or
anything...).
While an idyllic relationship
between lost brothers is the theme implied on
Superboy
#89's cover (mild-to-grossly misleading covers were '60s standard
issue), the Boy of Steel's impulsive, immature, perhaps even hormonal
behavior is the constant through this tale. He even excuses himself from
a school history quiz to zip back to ancient Egypt where he fact-checks
one of his answers, a departure from Clark's oft-noted practice of
missing a few questions to hide his super-intellect. Behavioral traits
play a strong role in the Superman story, too. Like his TV counterpart,
the comic book Supe of the '50s was largely earthbound, his authors
sometimes struggling to find suitable challenges for the Man of
Tomorrow. Watching diligently over a blustery big “brother” who doesn't
realize his powers are on the ebb is a rather neat and novel vehicle for
Superman to take through this tale.
“Superman’s Big Brother” was first
published before my time, but I found it - and you can, too - in
Superman in the Fifties, a nice compilation in trade paperback from
DC. Of course I do remember Mon-el, whose story you can read at
http://superman.ws/tales2/mon-el/1 The first time I saw that
great Curt Swan cover, I was just as excited as Superboy!
In
honor of everybody's big and little brothers, especially "Superman's
Brother" Fred Crane, and in memory of my big brother, William Walker,
1943 - 2007.
BASEMENT BONUS!

In the future, no
one will need a comb.

May 2007
Good Years--Great Story
By
Alfred Walker
Here's something I
did once I got to high school—perhaps you did, too: I studied the
yearbooks from the previous couple of years, the ones with pictures of
the seniors who'd since graduated and therefore with whom I would NOT be
attending school. Perhaps that was just as well, because those older
kids seemed impossibly cool, good-looking, and self-assured. To quote
Animal House author Chris Miller noting the college version of this
dynamic: There Were Giants Then. Even as my own class grew older,
cooler, and arguably more good looking—eventually and astonishingly
becoming seniors ourselves—a part of me knew we'd never achieved the
lofty heights of wholeness those older kids inhabited.
I had an analogous
experience in my relationship with comic books. I began buying and
reading in early 1960 (age 7), but thanks to DC's own version of the
yearbook—their so-called Annuals—I was exposed to hearty helpings of
stories that had originally run in the years before my time. And boy,
were they cool!
1958 and '59 were
amazing years for Superman and his friends, family, and foes. As Editor
Mort Weisinger's staff lay the groundwork for a mythos-like continuity
that would stay at least partly in tact for nearly three decades, those
two years alone saw the introduction of Supergirl, Brainiac, the bottled
city of Kandor, the Fortress of Solitude, the Legion of Superheroes,
Lori Lemaris, and that Seinfeld fave - Bizarro. Superman himself
(including his teenage self) was gearing up to appear in eight different
titles that each published between 8 and 12 issues a year, so there were
plenty of slots in which these new characters and conventions could be
of great utility.
One of the best
stories from the late '50s—and my favorite—involved none of the
aforementioned supporting cast or contrivances. In fact, Superman is
notably on his own, with much of what would normally appear as dialogue
replaced with Supe's balloon encapsulated thoughts. For me,
Superman’s New Face (Action 239, April 1958) evokes some of
the stark hopelessness of the great TV episode Panic in the Sky,
even more so than its comic book equivalent discussed in a column
below.

The Man of Steel's
bandaged visage on the cover is no doubt a salute to the classic film
version of The Invisible Man, and represents a stock gimmick of
the era: a visual tease intended to make the potential buyer wonder,
"What's going on here?" (more typical examples came to include any
"cast" regular besides Supe with sudden super-powers, any of his friends
shockingly appearing as his sworn enemy, and anyone—including Supe—with
a futuristically enlarged brain and the obligatory light bulb shaped
head).
But, gimmicks
aside, Superman has a serious problem. He's flown a defective
experimental atomic generator away from its earthly confines so it can
explode "harmlessly in the stratosphere." However, the unit was powered
in part by kryptonite (doh!) and the explosion has scarred the chiseled
good looks of the Man of Steel. His angst has less to do with vanity
than protecting the secret of his alter ego, Clark Kent. Until a
solution can be found, Superman will have to hide his disfigurement from
the public.
And his readers.
The nature of his scarring and his full facial appearance is not
revealed to us until late in the story. Whenever Supe is between full
bandage wraps or, at one point, a scrap metal mask (nothing says "I'm
depressed" quite like covering your mug with part of a sunken ship!), we
see his face only in shadow. It's an effective approach and, in the
hands of artist Wayne Boring, less hokey than it sounds. My love of Curt
Swan's art is well documented elsewhere on this page, but I find
Boring's stark and angular style right for this story.

Superman's dilemma
is treated with great gravitas, both in the telling and within his own
comic book habitat. His bleak mood and the concern of the world at
large are so effectively conveyed that we may not even stop to wonder
what the big deal is, at least as far as the planet's concerned: he CAN
keep on being Superman, right? Of course, Supe's concern is salvaging
his Clark Kent persona, and with that in mind, he runs through a
smorgasbord of cataclysmic facial treatments in futile attempts to erase
the kryptonite scars. Finally, he can shirk his Daily Planet duties no
longer, and the vast weight of this tale comes to balance neatly on a
small strip of adhesive tape that Clark affixes across his forehead. We
are so amazed that we may, again, fail to ask: What was up with covering
his whole face?
The riddle's answer
straddles the fence between clever and DC-silly, but, in my view, never
quite falls off into the latter camp. I'll not reveal it here, not so
much in avoidance of a spoiler but because a written explanation would
seem pretty tedious. Alas, the only reprint of this tale I'm aware of
appeared in the third Giant Superman Annual which hit the stands in
1961. So drop me an email or leave a post at
Dave Schutz's Friendly Discussion Board, and we can talk about
how Supe faces down this earthshaking problem—not to mention how it all
fits under one band-aid.
Alfred Walker
alretta@msn.com
March 2007
TWO FOR THE SHOW
TV Adventures in the Comics
By
Alfred Walker
I can't believe how
engaged by life my four year old is. He already has a girl friend in his
pre-school class, and she is playing him like a violin! My own memories
of that age—about as far back as I can reach—have a hazy, embryonic feel
to them. One of the few scenes I can still lock in is our first
television set materializing in the living room. Here were my dad and
big brother having a seemingly well-informed discussion of how to best
adjust the reception on this strange new appliance. Where had they
learned this stuff? (in my brother's case, during hours in front of the
neighbors' TV, ultimately shaming my folks into keeping up with the
Jones’ or actually the Brooks’.)
Fast forward a few
months to 1957: still four, still no girlfriend, but an active
relationship with the 5:00 afternoon adventure block on the tube:
Cisco Kid,
Sir Lancelot,
Hopalong Cassidy,
and The
Adventures of Superman.
I'm lucky I can remember the names of those first three, but the
Superman episodes I caught near the end of its first run were the start
of an enduring relationship.
I barely knew the
alphabet when TAOS went off the air. But by the summer of 1960, I
considered myself a good reader and—with a bike, a neighborhood
drugstore, and 15 cents of allowance at my disposal—I was once again
enjoying the adventures of the original character appearing in Superman
Magazine.
Then in perhaps 1962,
the TV series kicked back in via local syndication, serving as a
catalyst for both great jubilation back then and my getting around to a
point in this millennium. Namely: the existence of a disconnect, a
dichotomy, if you will, between Superman's TV world and the one he
inhabited in those great Silver Age comic books of the Sixties. While
both versions prominently featured Lois, Jimmy, and Perry, nowhere in
TV's earthbound cast of somewhat dim baddies and befuddled scientists
would you find the comics' Brainiac, Supergirl, a leaner keener Luthor,
and an ever sharpening focus on the planet Krypton and its growing band
of survivors.
This impacted a lot of
fans my age. If we saw any Superman TV in first run, we were little more
than toddlers—way too young for comic books. And by the time we were old
enough to begin devouring
Superman,
Action,
Lois Lane,
Jimmy Olsen, and
World's Finest on our own terms, TAOS was appearing as
syndicated reruns—with the earliest episodes looking downright old! Of
course for most of us, the excitement of Superman on TV and the stellar
performances of George Reeves and company initially trumped any concern
with continuity.
Ahh, "continuity" —I
learned that word, like so many others, in the comics, when a writer to
Superman's Metropolis Mailbag gave voice to a question likely troubling
many a nine year old: In the TV show, why doesn't Jimmy Olsen use his
Superman signal watch? Came the reply from (Ed.): The TV series was
filmed before Jimmy received his signal watch. The episodes are based on
an earlier continuity.
Wow. A short answer
that spoke volumes. But there's more, much more that ol' (Ed.) didn't
say, and which took me decades to discover. For example, he didn't say
that he, Mort Weisinger, had been the story editor for the TV show! And
that part of his gig was ensuring that there WAS a good bit of
continuity twixt the series and the comics. And that if you came to DC's
offices on Lexington Avenue and scoured their back issues (allegedly,
that was allowed Back in The Day), you'd find in the ones that ran
concurrently with the TV show SCADS of stories with video counterparts.
A couple of these are
currently available in DC's trade paperback
Superman in the Fifties.
And they happen to be the comic book renditions of two of the
finest TV episodes. "The Menace from the Stars", from the January 1954
issue of World's Finest,
is obviously the four color companion to the great "Panic in the Sky".
Even more apparent are the similarities of the March 1955
Superman tale
"The Girl Who Didn't Believe in Superman" and the 1954 season finale
"Around the World with Superman."

Considered a favorite
episode featuring an endearing and unique performance by George Reeves
(he visits a blind girl in his Superman persona, changing out only from
his glasses, not his Daily Planet civvies), "Around the World"
unfortunately gets the silly treatment in the comics. It's a gimmick
story, penned by the author of many a Batman-gimmicky yarn, Bill Finger.
The hook here is that try as he might, Superman can't convince young
Alice of his super powers. What plays out warmly and economically on TV
uses up half of the comic version's pages, to the point of tedium. Alice
comes off as a hard-to-please brat, with none of the underlying heart
conveyed so well by Judy Anne Nugent in the video version. The reader is
hard put to feel as invested in the outcome of Alice's super-surgery,
which involves one more silly twist not seen on TV: Supe performs the
operation himself, after speed-reading the contents of an entire medical
library. Thus, the tension of George Reeves' stern Superman assisting
the perspiring surgeon via x-ray vision is replaced with a display of
jaunty solo super-doctoring by way of Evelyn Wood.
We can question
whether the TV episode is a stripped down version of the comic book
yarn, or if the latter is a padded out treatment of the former. But it's
evident here and with "Panic"/"Menace" that the half hour episodes tend
not to translate to 10 or so pages of comic book without some added
material. In "The Menace from the Stars", the extended story makes for a
pretty good read - even standing next to the best episode of the series! 
"Menace" and "Panic"
kick off identically—Supe suffers amnesia after knocking an
earth-threatening asteroid off course—but while "Panic" relies on a
swell amnesiac performance by George Reeves (with great support from the
Planet gang), "Menace" (author unknown) spins an intricate detective
story in which our clueless hero tries to solve the riddle of Superman
with only a costume to go on. As evidence of his powers begins to
mount, Supe decides that it's all coming from the suit - and that this
missing Superman fellow must have been a friend who left HIM the tights
and cape for safe keeping. The super-powered costume is a theory merely
hinted at on TV, but one expanded to good effect in the comic book as
Supe tentatively tackles one super-feat after another. His cluelessness
is quite convincing, and his somewhat clumsy efforts to "do what
Superman would have done" are touching. His amnesia hangs on a lot
longer in this telling - even after the final confrontation with the
asteroid - right up till the last two panels. By then, Supe's
willingness to get on with life with nothing but his suit and a blank
slate has earned our admiration.
When I first
discovered these stories, I assumed they were a rare find: comic tales
of Superman that were covered on TV (or vice versa). That, in fact, was
the original premise of this piece. But in conversations with Lou Koza
and Carl Glass, a few more titles were recalled. That prompted me to
break one of my own rules and
research my
topic. Lo and behold, there in one of Jim Nolt's online archives (1998)
was a list of twenty
five adventures appearing in both media! I guess you're never
too old (or too late) to learn. I do wonder how it would have been: old enough
to read those comic books and watch the TV versions play out during
Superman's first run. Anyone out there qualify?
Links:
"The Girl Who Didn't
Believe in Superman" is posted here at the Fortress site.
http://superman.ws/tales4/the_girl_who_didn't_believe
The list of comic
book/TV stories is here on The Adventures Continue site.
http://www.jimnolt.com/tacjr_025.htm
There is a fun comic
style version of TV's Panic in the Sky created by fellow
Richmonder Nightwing located here.
http://nightwing.superman.ws/adventures/panic/panic_in_the_sky.htm
And if you'd like to
answer that question at the end of the last graph, email me at
awalker@parkgrp.com
April 2006
A
Non-Artist's Appreciation of
Curt Swan
by
Alfred Walker
Since beginning these columns last spring, I've figured there would be one about
Curt Swan. The "basement" angle is certainly there: a walk down the cellar steps
will yield a copy of his 2002 bio by Eddie Zeno, Curt Swan: A Life in Comics,
not to mention a long box of Superman comic books from the 1950s and '60s, with
all but two covers drawn by Mr. Swan.
But
beyond the obviousness of the subject matter, I've spent a lot of time wondering
what to say. There is the problem of writing about something visual, although
art and movie critics do it all the time (so do writers, come to think of it).
And there is the challenge of saying something new: Google "Curt Swan" and you
will find scads of informative and visually delicious sites, including a nice
look back by the artist himself.
As
I make my way toward my own thoughts, here are some Curt Swan basics:
Born in 1920 and growing up in Minneapolis, Mr. Swan's artistic gifts were
readily apparent to his teachers, who recruited him for many school-related
projects. He even designed, scripted, and illustrated his own single-copy comic
book as a boy, although an overt passion for the comics is not evident in his
interviews and recollections. In 1940, he went from the National Guard into the
Army and was shipped to Ireland, where he morphed himself from mess sergeant to
illustrator for Stars and Stripes. After the war, the recently married
Mr. Swan settled in NYC to look for work, and at the suggestion of a friend,
wound up taking a job at DC comics. He felt this might be a two-year venture,
and in fact left early on to work for an ad agency. The money was better at DC,
however, so he returned and, by his account, learned how to stand up to the
problematic behavior of boss Mort Weisinger.
In
1955, having drawn a slew of DC characters including regular stints with
Superboy and Jimmy Olsen, Swan was assigned to work on a 3-D project
with established Superman artists Wayne Boring and Al Plastino. While The
Three Dimensional Adventures of Superman ran for only one issue, Weisinger
liked Mr. Swan's work and, in the artist's words, "soon after that he put me on
Superman steady."
Steady all right! Mr. Swan drew every cover of Superman, save two,
starting in 1957 and going through the 1960s. The artwork on the stories inside
shifted in those years from mostly Boring to predominantly Swan. The
pattern was similar with Action Comics, and Mr. Swan also continued to keep his
deft hands in the adventures of Jimmy Olsen (the first 108 covers!) and Superboy.
He not only survived the Weisinger reign at DC, he thrived with the next editor,
Julius Schwartz, and continued as a principal artist with the Man of Steel until
the scripted continuity that marked the Silver Age finally ended in 1986. DC
continued to use Mr. Swan's services on various occasions, with some of his
final drawings—of Brainiac—appearing shortly after his death in the summer of
1996.
My
connection with the art of Curt Swan is an emotional one. First, understand that
I am forever hopeless with pencil, ink, and crayons. I would draw the standard
A-frame house in elementary school and the chimney would always slant at the
same angle as the roof. Know, too, that during my early years with Superman
comics, I didn't spend time considering that anyone DREW them at all. The
pictures were part of the story, and it was all just THERE. Yet with all that
ignorance and non-artistic aptitude in play, today I know it was the art of Curt
Swan that drew me toward Superman and his friends and antagonists week after
week. When I see those classic covers now, I get a twinge that reconnects me
with the eight-year-old standing at the spinner rack in Blair's Drugstore. Now
as then, I can study the cover of Superman #149 "The Death of Superman"
and wish it weren't so. There are panels in "The Dynamic Duo of Kandor" (Supe
and Jimmy as Nightwing & Flamebird) so familiar that it doesn't seem possible I
laid them aside for forty minutes, much less forty years. When I re-visit old
stories drawn by Wayne Boring or Al Plastino, I often think "hmmm..", but with
Mr. Swan's work, it's always "Ahhh!"
Mr.
Swan's artwork could accomplish a dozen things to improve a story: the script
seemed more believable, Superman appeared heroic AND human, Jimmy could look
thoughtful, Lois came across as someone capable of acting like an adult,
Luthor's expressions suggested a multi-layered personality, Krypto looked like a
real dog, and the shenanigans in the Mr. Mxyzptlk stories—Mr. Swan's
favorites—while always ludicrous, were rendered quite realistically.
Oh,
and Supergirl. Jim Mooney's somewhat cutesy rendition of the Girl of Steel
carried her through all those issues of Action in the 1960s, for better or
worse. But Mr. Swan's version suggests a much more interesting character—more
depth, a subtler beauty, potentially more heroic.
With the benefit of a long distance lens, this comic book lover can see that
Curt Swan's art was the glue that held together the greatness of Superman's saga
in the sixties. He drew the Superman many of us remember, not as a cartoon
character, but as a compassionate and—Kryptonian heritage notwithstanding—very
HUMAN super-hero. For myself, I can't imagine this connection occurring with any
other DC artist of the era.
Girls and soul music finally led me away from comic books as a young teen. As
much as anything else, Curt Swan's art has drawn me back.
There are some great resources for Curt Swan on the web. To note a couple:
Who Drew
Superman, at
http://www.supermanartists.comics.org/superart/superart.html
has
examples from multiple artists, including details on who inked for whom. There's
a nice look back by Mr. Swan himself at
http://theages.superman.ws/swan.php Eddie Zeno's bio mentioned
above, pictured below, and featuring some wonderful color collages (much nicer
than the ones in this article, which I assembled myself) is available at Amazon,
in comic shops, etc.
Women,
Children, and....Annuals?
In case of fire, it's family first. Then the
cats and Layla the dog - who's a half step in front of me whenever there's
excitement anyway. After that, no set plan. But sometimes I think I'd be
hard-pressed not to run down to the basement and grab the big blue binder with
all eight Giant Superman Annuals inside. I mean, do the math: 640 pages
of classic Supe stories saved from the flames for my sons and future
grandchildren, and I'd still have a hand free to grab the good silver on the way
out.

What was the special attraction of these amazing books - then and now? They had
the power to incite a generally low impact 10 year old to lobby hard for an
allowance increase to make the 25c "cover charge". Those same covers could make
a grown man cry when he saw their images on ebay 40 years later, years during
which he'd begun to wonder if the books had really existed - or were products of
a wishful imagination.
Let's start with those covers then. I am a sloppy person who craves order. And
were the Annual covers ever orderly! Maybe a little too Brady Bunch for some
readers, but I liked how those neat little boxes put it all up front. And the
art was clean - and new - Curt Swan: the characters may have been established
and the stories reprints, but each got a fresh Swan rendering to fit the cover.
While they weren't really "Annuals", appearing as they did every six months,
they were unquestionably "Giant". Eighty pages was more comic book than I could
read in a day - or even two - unless we're talking sick in bed. One annual
equaled the literary heft of three regular comics, with an extra story to spare.
It was the stories, after all - once the purchase had been financed and the dual
excitement of the cool cover and actual ownership had faded a bit - that it was
all about.
While it would be great fun to discuss all the stories from all the annuals,
that would use up quite a bit of the glasshouse site - assuming I could actually
complete such a column in this lifetime. Instead, we'll peek inside the
marvelous cover (have I mentioned I like the covers?) of Giant Superman
Annual #1. There's a generous offering of tales, seemingly targeted at
exactly the demographic I represented in the summer of 1960: a relatively new
but avid Superman fan, hungry for history and mythos-malleable.
Note the dutiful reprint, for example, of Supergirl's origin story, which had
first been published just a little over a year earlier. This might seem
superfluous from our long distance lens in the 21st century, but that story was
new to me! More to the point : Editor Mort Weisinger and company seemed to be
designing this edition as a Superman Family Primer; this could serve as your
first ever Superman experience, and you'd be on solid ground for the rest of the
Sixties.
The placement of the very first story in the very first annual, then, is both
touching and calculated. As Michael Grost (I borrowed from him last month, too)
notes on his Classic Comic Books site, "Superman's First Exploit" fills in here
as an origin tale. The most recent Superman origin story at that time dated back
to 1948 and hardly met the new and revised factual specs of the Weisinger era
mythos ( "The Story of Superman's Life", discussed last month, was still a year
away). "Exploit", from 1956, does feature a one page review of Kal-el's
departure from Krypton, and even establishes a couple of Silver Age conventions:
Superman's power of super-recall, which has seemingly lain dormant all these
years until he's prodded to remember for the first time his last moments on his
home planet; and the re-telling of key Super-events with new elements added
retroactively, here an account of little Kal-el actually leaving his spaceship
en route to Earth! Even with all that heavy lifting, "Superman's First Exploit"
is an engaging yarn with a good hearted twist at the end.
With this sort-of-an-origin tale established, the key faces and places of the
Superman family take their orderly turn in the reprint spotlight. And if every
story isn't great, it's still a wham-bam lineup. There's the cover story from
Lois Lane #1, the "Untold" origin of Lori Lemaris, the afore-mentiond Supergirl
debut, and the first tale to feature the arctic Fortress of Solitude, which some
readers consider the first Silver Age Superman story. The goofy side of the
Silver Age is also well represented, with a "fat Lois" story that screams
political incorrectness, an "Execution of Krypto" yarn, and two wacky Jimmy
Olsen tales, in which he respectively materializes in Superboy's Smallville and
grows a futuristically large brain (well in advance of similar cranial
expansions for Supe and Lois). Yep, more than you could read on a school day!
Although the cover of the first annual proclaimed "the greatest super-stories
ever published", a more descriptive blurb might have been All in the Family.
Themes were more clearly delineated in the next seven annuals, and generally in
the "80 Page Giants" that proliferated in their wake. Annual #2 gave us Great
Villians, for example; #4 featured tales of time and space; #5 was an all
Krypton volume; #6 collected one-shot super-powered characters; and #7 was a
Silver Anniversary edition with a particularly handsome cover. My personal faves
were #3, with its Strange Lives of Superman theme yielding a nice mix of
stories, and the finely detailed Untold Stories of #8 - I was always a sucker
for something like "The Untold Origin of Superman's Belt Loops".
I've found over the years that reading about these stories invariably makes me
want to go back and read the stories themselves. Now I know that writing about
them has the same effect. Hmm, 640 pages - too many for a work day. Meanwhile, I
think I'll move that blue binder closer to the front door.
First editions of the original Giant Superman Annuals show up on ebay,
other online sellers, and in comic shops. Annual #1 was reprinted in its
entirety by DC in 1998, and copies surface in the same markets.Covers and
story listings for all the annuals can be viewed at
http://www.dcindexes.com/giants/80page.php. Michael Grost's writing on
Superman comics can be found at
http://members.aol.com/MG4273/comics.htm. The Walker Family Fire
Evacuation Plan does not currently exist in printed form.
Up from the basement this month:
Alfred's beloved copy of
Superman #146
I wish I could
remember the exact issue of Superman for which I first plunked down my own ten
toughly negotiated cents. Who knew it would be so hard to recall some 45 years
later, or seem so important?
To be sure, misty
memories of early exposure to the Man of Steel's literary exploits still
glimmer. There was a family visit to the home of church acquaintances, where the
son - a few years older than I - had a copy of Action 259 (1959) among
his possessions (not that I noticed the issue number, but who could forget that
image of Superman with his brain so evolved that his bald head looked a lot like
a giant - oops, sorry!- this is a family-friendly site). I also recall a
vacation with a day-long drive up the 95 (or whatever road existed) corridor,
during which the very first Bizarro story - later traced to Superboy 68
(1958) - somehow wound up in my hands, perhaps purchased in desperation by my
parents at one of our splurgey Howard Johnson's stops. And, as I've perused some
of the old Silver Age sagas from the vantage point of the new millenium,
Superman 139 (1960), with its Untold Story of Red Kryptonite, rings some
ancient bell.
Still, I can't get
a handle on just which issue counted as my first, commanding 67% of my weekly
allowance. But I do clearly recall one early purchase, including discovering the
issue in the spinner rack, getting my hands physically on it, and savoring the
cover and title in disbelieving joy. "The Complete Story of Superman's Life!"
proclaimed Superman 146, dated July 1961. Color me eight years old, and
boy, did Mort Weisinger and company have my number! The cover blurbs addressed
plenty of stuff I needed to know, and the quickest of flip-throughs revealed
much, much more. The costume! The glasses! The Kents on their deathbed! I'd been
a fan just long enough for this to be perfect timing. I'd have probably paid a
whole quarter for it - if I'd had one.

Maybe Editor
Weisinger missed a marketing opportunity by charging only 10 cents for this
fact-packed issue, but he certainly succeeded in putting down a strong
foundation for the Superman family mythos, one he'd already begun to build and
would expand upon greatly as the Sixties unfolded. Michael E. Grost, writing for
his excellent Classic Comic Books web site, notes that this story "is clearly
written to educate new readers into the whole background of the Superman family
of comic books. It proceeds with step by step, methodical deliberation through
every element of the Weisinger world [and] forms a sort of logical backbone to
the Superman series as a whole."
The story also
performs some necessary housekeeping for the Weisinger era, which in 1961 was
beginning the rise to its zenith. Continuity problems large and small had beset
Superman in the comics practically since day one. One notable example involved
the very existence of Superboy, alive and kickin' since the 1940s, but never
acknowledged in a Superman origin story until now. Superman 146 afforded
Mort and the gang an opportunity to say: This is the way it was and is! Anything
else you know is probably wrong.
Not that I was
tracking on any mythos malarkey that fine summer day, back home from Blair's
Drugstore with my prized purchase. I was too busy happily working my way through
the dizzying display of Super-events. In just 13 pages (admittedly a long story
in those days), we witness Kal-el AND Krypto's deliverance from Krypton's
destruction, the adoption and upbringing of young Clark Kent, the early training
of Superboy - as well as the origins of his costume, robots, and glasses, a
dissertation on the source of our hero's powers, the reunion with Krypto, and,
well - more than can comfortably fit in even this laundry list of a sentence. As
we used to say at the end of all those oral book reports in grade school: if you
want to know more, you'll have to read the book.
"The Story of
Superman's Life" - no matter any unstated motives of its creators - effectively
said to this young reader: Welcome to the family. Superman may have secrets from
the rest of the world, but not from you - you're in! That was an important
message to an introverted, book-loving kid, and one that would keep me parting
company with my dimes and pennies for several years to come.
"The Story of
Superman's Life" appears reprinted in
Superman in the Sixties by DC Comics,
available on amazon.com and in bookstores and comic shops. Old copies of
Superman 146 often surface on ebay. The Classic Comic Books web site, noted
above, can be found at http://members.aol.com/MG4273/comics.htm It
features thoughtful analysis of stories from most of the Superman related titles
of the Silver Age.
Basement Story #1 (4-11-05):
The great Red Skelton once performed a skit in which he
played a professor who explained the true meaning of well known quotations. When
asked about "People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones", Professor
Red claimed that was a misquote. The actual line, he said, was "People who live
in glass houses shouldn't!"
I would like to amend that to "People who live in glass
houses should make sure they have a basement". And this is the basement in Carl
and Leslie's Glass House. Or at least on their web page. Actually, it's MY
basement, and Carl and Leslie have graciously opened their Glass House so that I
can drag some things up the stairs for display and consideration.
But first, a few housekeeping chores, like answering:
Why me?
I don't know -maybe ask Carl. I mean, I'm pretty much your
garden-variety baby boomer Superman fanatic. I've got the DVDs of the old series
with the great George Reeves, I've been rebuilding the Silver Age comic
collection of my youth, I surf around the various Super-sites, and on a couple
of occasions, I've spent 6 or 8 hours in my car in order to meet the beautiful
Noel Neill. And I once put several days into building a midi-sequenced version
of the '50s theme music, just for personal grins. Solid credentials to the lay
person, perhaps, but nothing world-beating. So you'd have to ask Carl. He's a
generous guy, and I think he sort of likes my writing. He was going to have me
do a column called "Alfred's Closet", and I said nah, it's gotta be the
basement.
Why the basement?
For my money, it's the coolest room in the house, and not
just because it's unheated. Even before our boys came along and claimed our last
two bedrooms, there were unopened boxes down there dating back to my high school
days. But now - there's even more gold in them thar holes. And as you can
imagine, LOTS of Superman stuff: comic books, collections, old fanzines,
biographies of actors and artists, even the remnants of my first-ever Superman
costume, stitched lovingly by my own version of Ma Kent. Not to mention those
boxes that haven't been opened since the sixties..

In the next weeks and months, I'll be hauling some of this
stuff up into the Glass House so we can all have a look. I might succeed in
making a few cogent comments, but at the very least I'll try to convey my sense
of fun and excitement in sharing this treasure with some like-minded souls. In
the meantime, you tall guys watch your heads down here. The lighting's not too
good and there's a low ceiling.
Next time: The Story of
Superman's Life!

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