LUDIC LOG

Yes, it's time again for another trip through the awesome '80s artifact known as The Official Handbook of the Marvel Universe. Note that while there were (I think) 12 issues of thos cape-cyclopedia, I only have the first five, so enjoy it while you can, fanboys and fangirls.

The tour through issue #3 may not be as naz-tee as some of my previous jaunts, since it contains a lot of characters I really like. But if it makes you feel any better, try to keep in mind that the previous two installments weren't that funny either. This issue contains a lengthy and unbearably tedious essay in the frontispiece (hilariously called "Scientific Method") where editor Mark Gruenwald explains how each issue is put together, in excruciating detail that would render comatose anyone not named Mark Gruenwald. There's one entertaining bit about halfway through where he claims they make every attempt to insure that the funnybood cod-science encountered therein "is consistent with other descriptions of such phenomena" (you know, so it corroborates with all the other reports of flying cosmic silver guys on airborne surfboards) and "makes sense in the context of real physics". Whatever you say, Mark.

Off we go!

CLOAK. Then-stylish penciler Rick Leonardi saved a lot of time on this one by just drawing a big outline of a cape and then spilling a lot of black ink over it. Cloak got his powers by being injected with synthetic heroin, which makes you wonder how goddamn powerful Lou Reed must be. Also, the synthetic heroin that gave him his awesome shadow-powers cured him of stuttering. Was there a time when I didn't think this was retarded? Probably.

CLOUD. Cloud is a space cluster. Cloud is a space cluster that can turn into a naked boy or a naked girl. Cloud is a space cluster that can turn into a naked boy or a naked girl and fights crime for some reason. That's right: Cloud is an intergalactic vigilante version of 'Love Is...'. This is the sort of brain-dead faux-cosmic gop that Marvel was overdosing on in the late '70s and early '80s before it became wall-to-wall X-mutants, so you get impenetrable sentences like "The (Cosmic) Cube told Cloud about the Earth and its native heroes". Cloud's occupation is listed as "Nebula; former adventurer".

COBRA. Of all the dopey Serpent Society villains, I always had a weekness for the Cobra. He was Dutch, he was bald, he was old-school, and he could squeeze himself into tubes, of which power there is a lovely bit of incidental art in the entry.

COLLECTOR. The Collector was one of the Elders of the Universe. He collected things. I hated the Elders of the Universe. There's an illustration of his "temporal assimilator" that is refreshingly free of the normal pointlessly detailed technobabble. Way to drop the ball, Eliot R. Brown!

COLOSSUS. He's Russian...and he's named Rasputin! Sweet. Even when he wasn't make of "organic steel", Colossus was 6'6" and weighed 250 pounds, which raises some disturbing questions about his relationship with the miniscule Kitty Pryde. No wonder she dropped his ass for Doug Ramsey; she probably felt like a chipmunk's cheek with Colossus around. The text claims that "his endurance and speed are somewhat greater in armored form". How you turn your skin into solid steel and this makes you faster I'm not sure, but I bet Kitty was grateful for it.

CONSTRICTOR. Sometimes Marvel got it just right: the Constrictor's name was Frank Schlichting, and he was from Racine, WI. The only place in all the world you'd run into a guy named Frank Schlichting is in Wisconsin.

CONTEMPLATOR. Another Elder of the Universe. He contemplated things. Can someone help me out here? I remember a Captain America comic where the Contemplator (or "Mister Buda") fucked with Cap's head for like 40 pages. It had Kirby art, and I remember it being emotionally wrenching when I first read it in the Glendale, AZ Boy's Club pool hall. Does anyone remember this bizarre comic?

CORSAIR. Corsair was Cyclops' dad, who Len Wein or possibly Chris Claremont had the bright idea to turn into a space pirate. Whenever he and the rest of his weak-ass "Starjammers" would show up, I went off to read Iron Man for a while.

COTTONMOUTH. Another of the bajillion members of the Serpent Society. I remember a seriously disturbing series of panels in Captain America where Cottonmouth unhinged his jaw and made his mouth humongous that totally freaked me out at the time; happily, it is reprinted here in full in case I had forgotten it through years of alcohol suppression therapy.

CRYSTAL. Some guys liked Medusa. I was always a Crystal man. Why? That name, so southern for a chick who lived on the moon. That fire and ice -- she ran hot and cool. That outfit, one of Kirby's most delectable yellow jumpers. And most of all, that freaky-wierd black stripe in her hair.

CYCLOPS. One thing (and possibly only one thing) that Joss Whedon is right about: Cyclops really is a dick. One of the most important of all major characters, and yet he's boring and totally devoid of personality. What a non-entity. I wish Dark Phoenix would have snuffed his red-crystal-goggle-wearing ass.

CYPHER. GOD, DOUG RAMSEY, YOU SUCK WORSE THAN ANYTHING.

DAGGER. People ask, why did Dagger hang around with that junkie punk Cloak? The danger, baby, the danger. The forbidden lure. Once you've had black, baby, you keep up the hunger for that long snake moan. And why did a truly groovy fellow like Cloak waste his time on a flavaless freak like the Dag? Well, you have to admit, she had a pretty nice ass for a white girl.

DAREDEVIL. Yes, I liked him. No, I didn't see the movie. Yes, I probably will.

DAZZLER. The Marvel higher-ups were inexplicably enamored of Dazzler; she was, after She-Hulk and the Invisible Girl, probably the money female character of the Marvel Universe in the 1980s. I could never figure this out. She had a weak power (turning sound into light), a wack concept (she was a roller disco singer, for Christ's fucking sake), and worst of all, she was a mutant in a world of mutants and was written in the same lazy mutant style. But, hey, the Bullpen guys loved her and stuck her everywhere. She had her own goddamn title, and meanwhile Tigra and Clea languish in support. Anyway, the entry (featuring Dazzler in her then-new but still-just-as-lame costume) helpfully informs us that she wore a women's size eight roller skate.

DEATHLOK. Deathlok was kind of a bad-ass; I sort of liked him. He was also bound up in that whole Serpent Crown alternate reality Marvel had going, that fucked-up version of modern America where Nelson Rockefeller was president and the Exxon Corporation had taken over the world. Unfortunately, this entry is all about the dopey technical drawings.

DEATH-THROWS. I had almost forgotten these guys, because they were so amazingly lame I just decided they never existed in the first place. They were a team of evil jugglers. That's right: evil jugglers.

DIAMONDBACK. Diamondback was yet another of the innumerable Serpent Society. She didn't even have snake powers; she threw razor-sharp fake diamonds. She was completely ridiculous, from her magenta hair to her crush on Captain America, but I will say this for her: she had enormous tits. MODOK Bonus: "Her first mission as part of the group was to track down and assassinate Modok, the renedage leader of AIM."

DOC SAMSON. Now, if you had a big flowing shock of Fabioesque, albeit green, hair, and a really tight red t-shirt with a wide neck and a yellow lightning bolt on the chest, why would you possibly want to change your costume? Possibly because you don't want to look like a big homosexual.

DOCTOR DOOM. We just ain't gonna make fun of Victor von Doom, a'ight?

DOCTOR OCTOPUS. Despite the fact that he was really sort of a loser as villains go, Marvel fans always had a soft spot for ol' Doc Ock, and I am no exception. He managed to become a classic Spider-Man foe despite being, essentially, a fat nerd with a bowl haircut, a pair of Coke-bottle glasses, and an overactive waldo. For some reason, he's shown in the entry (snazzily illustrated by my favorite Spidey-artist after Ditko, the incomparable John Romita Jr.) using his arms to smoke a big fat stogie, and there's a piece of John Byrne incidental art (remember, this was in the 'nothing gets done around here without Byrne getting a piece' days) that features the arms going nuts sans the Doc, which I don't remember. Also, where's all the goddamn Ditko art? Possibly this was when batshit-crazy Randroid Steve was suing the shit out of Stan the Man. Anyway, we are informed that the robo-arms of ol' Doc Ock where lied with "lamb's wool padding", and you know that ain't bad.