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I mentioned back in June that I had recently returned to using ComicBase as a way to catalog my collection. It's had some substantial improvements since I'd last used it in the early 2000s. (I just double-checked; I still have the physical manual to ComicBase 5, which was released in 2000.) Partially because of that and partially because of what I do differently, I'm setting this database up to be a more functional research tool.

The basic use of such a comic book database like this is pretty simple and straight-forward: to track which comics I have and, as a secondary consideration, which comics I want to look for. Theoretically, a basic list or Excel file would be sufficient in many cases, but that does get a bit tricky when you're considering alternate versions of the same issue or multiple series with the same title. Differentiating those can be done in a variety of different ways, but those could vary quite a bit depending on the publisher and the time period. Do the covers use different artwork, are the cover prices different, did they come out on different dates, do they have different publishers... So to account for all those variations, you need to expand the amount of data you need to track for each issue, and those Excel files can start getting unwieldly and downright ineffecient pretty quickly.

I don't think I need to get any extended explanations on all of that. So let's get to the research angle.

As I'm working on something, I might want to reference a story point I nominally recall, but couldn't pinpoint off the top of my head. But I can use the database to hunt down the issue in question. "I think it was the first story to introduce [character X]." "I'm pretty sure it was drawn by [specific artist]." "I know it occurred right after [some other storyline]." Instead of having to rifle through long boxes trying to track down a specific issue and relying on a half-faded memory, I can do the tracking work digitally and only go to the long boxes (or bookshelves) once I've figured out what precisely I'm looking for. That's almost inevitably going to be a faster process, and I'm less likely to cause additional wear and tear on (particularly) older issues. And in many cases, I might be able to find that the story I need was reprinted elsewhere and I don't have to touch my original issues at all.

As ComicBase also allows for digital comics to be added, there will be many cases where I do not need to even get up from my computer. I have years worth of digital comics on my hard drive already. Some are public domain pieces that have been uploaded for free online, some are review copies I've been sent. I even found a decent stash of more independent comics on my hard drive dating back to 2006-2008 and had Wowio advertisements embedded in them! (For you youngsters, Wowio was an early attempt to act as an ad-supported digital comics hub, but it really started to stall by 2008 and was all but defunct by 2009.) Which means that, as I'm doing those searches that I mentioned above, I can immediately access the digital versions right from that database entry whether I have a physical copy or not.

As a real-world practical example, as I was cataloging my collection, I came across a couple issues of Radio Shack's History of Electronics comics. I have three copies, each from a different year, but the database points out all the other versions I'm missing. Mine were ones I'd picked up from Radio Shack first-hand back in the day, so they're all pretty close content-wise. But seeing that they ranged from 1972 up through 1990, there must have been some pretty radical changes in the story to account for actual technological changes. Having digital copies of a wide range of them, I can directly compare the full range of them to one another and determine what changes needed to happen and how the 1972 version evolved into the 1990 version. Yes, I could theoretically track down physical copies of all of them and make comparisons that way, but this is MUCH faster and more efficient!

And, furthermore, because I've got all this on a database running locally on my home network, that means that I can continue working on things if there are problems with an internet hub or my ISP or something. Or if the digital copies of those books that are currently available online get removed. You hear about it more with movies and TV shows, but the services hosting online media are increasingly juggling licensing agreements all over the place, so what may have been readily accessible one day is gone the next.

(My personal example -- which still annoys me -- I was watching the Marvel show Runaways on Disney+ when they abruptly removed it from their platform just as I was about to begin season 2. The show remained available on Amazon Prime, but only seasons 1 and 3 for some inexplicable reason. After over a year of that being the status quo, all three seasons only recently popped up on Tubi. Who knows how long it will remain there? I mean, it's a show produced by Disney -- you'd think they wouldn't pull down TV shows they actually own!)

My point being that the few years I spent without having a working comics database was more than just an annoyance in not knowing all the comics I had in my collection. It was limiting the amount and type of research I could do, and making much of what I did do more tedious than it needed to be. If all you need is something to keep track of what issues you have or want, that's great -- you might not anything more complicated than a notepad. But in doing the type of work that I do, a robust database can be invaluable in getting quicker and more ready access to the sources I need to do the research I'm trying to do.
We're in the back half of July, which means that we'll inevitably start seeing some people making note of the anniversary of the Fantastic Four (and therefore Marvel Comics in general) on August 8th. Supposedly, this is because many people claim August 8, 1961 as THE day that Fantastic Four #1 first hit the stands. The problem is: that's not the correct date of the FF's anniversary.

That date seems to originate from Greg Theakston, who mentioned it in Pure Images #2 circa 1991. In his essay on the earliest days of the Fantastic Four, he mentioned that that August 8th date. That is, I believe, the first time anyone put a specific date to the issue's release. Previously, the FF's anniversary was always tied to the November issue of any given year, regardless of when the November issue actually came out. After Theakston published that, however, the conversation started to shift from "November cover-dated issue" to "August 8th release date." My guess is that Theakston got the date by finding the earliest records he could of a newsstand receiving their copies.

But he wasn't comprehensive in his search.

See, back in 1961, there wasn't a single distributor system for comics. It was a comparitively very loose network off regional distributors. Not to mention what was available worked much slower. So different newsstands and drug stores got their shipments on different days. Generally kind of close to one another, just not on the same day. One shop might get their books on a Tuesday, the guy in the next city might get his on Wednesday, and the guy in the city after that might be on Thursday.

There was also poor communication to the retailers. They didn't necessarily know what they would get on any given delivery, or when the next shipment of a particular title might come in. Since all the comics (and magazines) were returnable, this wasn't a big deal. But retailers did need to know when it might be okay to send old books back, so they would often write or stamp the date they received them on the cover. (Collectiblity was obviously not a concern.) Then, as they were surveying their stock, they could easily determine that it had only been three weeks since they got this issue, but maybe ten weeks since they got this other one. But, here and now, decades later, we can use those same markings to determine when certain issues hit the stands!

Which leads us to Fantastic Four #1. If the copies of the version Theakston saw in the late '80s and early '90s had nothing earlier than an August 8th date, it's reasonable to conclude that that was the earliest anyone got it. However, since then -- thanks in large part to the internet -- we've uncovered examples of other copies with other dates, such as August 1st, 3rd, 8th, 9th, and as late as the 21st. I've even found one marked as early as June 30th! Which means, if the title hit some of the newsstands on June 30, then claiming the FF's anniversary is August 8 means you're off by at least a full month. Check out these examples...



Most of the images here are pulled from the Heritage Auction site. There are plenty more examples to sort through there if you're interested, but you can check eBay too as there are usually a few copies available there as well. But the dates just in this small sampling range from June 30 to August 21!

It's a minor point, to be sure, but if you're going to go around celebrating the exact day the issue hit the stands, let's at least try to be accurate about it, huh?
Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...

Kleefeld on Comics: What's Up with Comix Wellsping?
https://ift.tt/Ek0OrUx

Kleefeld on Comics: Both Prophetic and Not
https://ift.tt/bLZyah9

Kleefeld on Comics: Marvel's Very First Cover Variant
https://ift.tt/r4Z0k5z

Kleefeld on Comics: Marble Comics Group's Slimeboy
https://ift.tt/jwPm4gv

Kleefeld on Comics: Thoughts on This Week's Marvel News
https://ift.tt/Fjg6hDN


Yes, I know technically this artwork was done for a Florida event. But do you know how hard it is to find art of Spider-Man in California that has NOT been AI-generated? This has got Spidey in palm tress; that's the best I can do at the moment.
So a bit of news from Marvel yesterday, right? Stephen Wacker will be taking over as editor-in-chief, C.B. Cebulski will begin overseeing a new division of "APAC-originated graphic fiction and manga, based in Japan," and the Marvel Comics headquarters is being moved from New York City to Burbank, California. Of those three (pretty significant) changes, most of the material coming out of Marvel (both officially released and leaked) focused on Wacker. To be fair, a new editor-in-chief is worth talking about and I've only ever heard good things about Wacker, so that's clearly the positive angle Marvel wants to lead with. Particularly when the other two significant elements have problematic aspects to them.

Cebulski has, of course, been Marvel's editor-in-chief since 2017 and prior to that, he served as their Vice President of International Business Development & Brand Management based out of Shanghai. So his new role makes sense inasmuch as that he's served in similar capacities before. What is not mentioned in most reporting is that he posed as an overtly Japanese writer “Akira Yoshida” in the early 2000s, working for multiple publishers and conducting interviews in that persona. He -- and any other professionals who may have known about this -- kept it hidden for a full decade, going as far as to expressly deny rumors the two who were one and the same. It only came out into the open after Marvel named him editor-in-chief. (Kudos to The Beat for being the only news source I can find highlighting this.) Only then did Cebulski apologize and claimed that it "has been dealt with" but I've never seen/heard anything resembling negative repercussions. Outwardly, it has always looked like -- and continues to look like -- he was awarded Marvel Comics' highest position of storytelling authority for overtly lying about his identity and appropriating Japanese culture in an almost stereotypical manner. That Cebulski remained in that position for a decade with no apparent consequences at all strikes me as an insult in the first place, and that he's now being sent to Japan to lead an Asian-focused arm of the business seems doubly insulting.

The other thing to bring up in all this is Marvel's move across the country. It's not unheard of, certainly -- DC did almost exactly the same thing in 2015, ostensibly for the same reasons of getting both the publishing and film/TV arms in the same place. While there are indeed some long-term possible benefits to this, they're mostly around consolidating physical resources. That is, they would have (theoretically) fewer rental offices to deal with and perhaps draw down the head count of some of the "generic" departments like HR and accounting.

(Two side notes on that. First, it's possible Marvel's done that already as a subsidiary of Disney, in which cases there wouldn't be too much more they could do. Second, when I say "draw down the head count" I am using corporate speak for laying off employees. I only use the phrase to highlight that, if Marvel says anything about it, it will likely be in those terms, so be aware of what they're actually saying if/when they elaborate any more on that point.)

Speaking of getting rid of staff, that is 100% a consideration in their move. We don't have details about it yet, but typically in a move of this type, the company will extend some kind of package offer to pay for moving expenses and such to any affected employees. But -- and this is what's worth noting -- there is an inherent expectation that a significant number of people will choose NOT to move. The numbers, of course, vary by industry but I believe on average, only about half of employees agree to move along with a company. Again, that is an expectation -- Marvel is absolutely aware of this and likely counting on it so they can cut staff without resorting to layoffs, which are always bad PR. Most people are likely to think in terms of editorial roles since those people get their names in the credits of Marvel's comics every month, but this also applies to all sorts of behind-the-scenes admin workers as well. No doubt including the HR and accounting folks that I mentioned earlier.

The notion of being able to consolidate the different creative arms is bogus. I was just reading a couple weeks ago about a study that found very clear evidence that in-person work absolutely does NOT improve productivity. They were talking more specifically about return-to-office policies after work-from-home became so prevelant thanks to COVID, but the same concept applies here...
We surveyed thousands of executives, middle managers and frontline supervisors on a host of personality traits. When we later asked them about their stances on hybrid and remote work, their answers didn’t correlate with how much they trusted their employees or how much they loved being around people. The only trait that consistently predicted objections to remote work was narcissism — the tendency to be self-centered and entitled. The higher the opinions of themselves leaders expressed, the more they coveted power and status — and the more they favored return-to-office mandates.
The move to California isn't about making sure the comics people are coordinating with the film people. It's about some executive at Disney being able to say, "Look at all the stuff I control right here in Burbank."

Keep in mind, too, that Marvel has been increasingly outsourcing their comics publishing anyway. Their long-term gameplan -- in my estimation -- is to get out of actual publishing entirely. Disney bought Marvel in the first place because they were making great movies and getting a ton of licensing revenue from it as well. The comics are an afterthought. If they set things up so that half the comics folks leave, forcing them to outsource even more -- which, I might add, completely negates the notion of bringing the different creative departments closer together -- that's just all part of their long-term strategy.

Obviously, a series of moves like this aren't done on a whim. There's a lot going on here. I don't have any insider information; just an MBA and enough practical experience in the corporate sector to know that none of this is being done without ulterior motives that no one is going to say publicly.
With a bit of renewed interest in Thundarr the Barbarian thanks to the new comic (which I reviewed here) I thought I'd bring up this absurdly small, but amusing, detail from the original cartoon. The series as a whole, for those who don't know, was set in a post-natural-disaster Earth and there were frequently references to late 20th century culture, as the protagonists walked amid the rubble. In one episode, entitled "Last Train to Doomsday", the character Ookla stumbles across the remains of a comic book shop...
... where he picks up a comic and falls to the ground laughing hysterically...

The comic in question is one from Marble Comics Group called Slimeboy...
... an obvious parody of the "Marvel Comics Group" banner that ran across those titles at the time.

Another issue, later in the show, provides the idea for how the characters might escape the villain's trap...
Interesting to note the fifty cent price tag on that one, as comics were (generally) only priced there for a little over a year around 1981. Also curious about that second issue is that the title appears incomplete. It's presented as "Slimeboy in" presumably not unlike "Superman in Action Comics" but there's no room for an actual title here. Also curious is that both covers sport giant, walking robots that appear to be inspired by War of the Worlds and seem to have little obvious correlation with a character called "Slimeboy."

Anyway, just an interesting little aside that's wholly unrelated to the primary storyline of even that episode, much less the series as a whole.
Fantastic Four #110
The cover image here is the first variant cover from The Fantastic Four and I think it might be the first variant cover from Marvel. Although it wasn't an intentional one!

The story, from 1971, is fairly unremarkable relative to other issues for a good stretch both before and after it. Stan Lee had been writing the series for a full decade at that point, and John Buscema had several issues under his belt after Jack Kirby left* and would continue on for a few years afterwards. There are no new charaters introduced, nor are any storylines started or wrapped up. It's not a bad story, by any means, but it's largely unremarkable relative to any other given post-Kirby FF.

Except for the cover.

Fantastic Four #110 was produced in exactly the same way every other issue was produced. Lee provided a general outline to Buscema. Buscema created the story and drew the art. Lee came back and added dialogue. It went to Joe Sinnott to ink, and one of the "house" letterers to letter. (In this case, Mike Stevens.) Then the whole ball of wax got shipped off to the printers to do a print run of 250,000 or so.

Quick lesson in printing. You know how your ink jet printer has four cartridges of ink, right? Black, yellow, blue (cyan) and pink (magenta). Those four colors are used because when they're mixed in the right quantities, you can produce an incredibly wide range of colors. Professional printers who print comics use the same colors. The difference is that back in 1971, instead of being controlled by a computer, the colors were controlled by hand. There would be a person who had to take a copy of the artwork, and physically cut out all the bits that required each color. They would end up with four pieces of art: one containing just the black parts, one containing just the yellow parts, one containing just the cyan parts, and one containing just the magenta parts.

Then, a printer would create a metal plate based on each piece of art. These plates are kind of like rubber stamps, but just made out of (usually) aluminum. The image is reversed, then coated with ink and pressed onto a piece of paper. So when you coat the four images with four different inks, and press them onto the same piece of paper, you get a colored image!

Now, what happened to FF #110 is that the cyan and magenta plates got mixed up for the cover. So everything that was supposed be blue was printed using magenta ink, and everything pink was printed with cyan ink. Consequently, we see the FF in pink uniforms, and the orange of the Thing (remember your old color wheel? yellow + red = orange) now looks green (the "red" of that equation was replaced with "blue").

The issues were shipped out before the problem was noticed. Which means there were over 200,000 of these floating around at one point. Marvel issued a recall, and had corrected issues shipped out (I'm sure at the printer's cost, since it was their fault) but not before a good number of the error version had sold. And while we weren't really into the direct market system quite yet, there were no doubt people who had begun speculating on the market, and deliberately held onto their copies without sending them back to get pulped. So these days, they're not exactly common, but not terribly hard to find either.

So the next time someone talks about some exclusive variant cover they picked up at a convention, you can pull this bad boy out and tell them you've got the original variant cover!
* Yes, I know John Romita did a few issues between Kirby and Buscema, despite the implication my phrasing above implies. There just wasn't a smooth way to add in Romita's contribution there, and it wasn't really relevant to my point anyway.
The image you see attached to this post is a full-page house ad for First Comics that ran in late 1984/early 1985. Obviously, there's some amount of hyperbole involved, but I suspect that even setting that aside, most comics fans would point to 1986 as the year where everything you know about comics changed completely. After all, 1986 saw the publication of Watchmen, The Dark Knight Returns, and the first collection of Maus. The difference between those books and what's being touted by First is in the type of change they're instigating, which is why this Feburary 28, 1985 is mostly forgotten.

See, the changes brought about in 1986 were in the storytelling. Functionally, those books were produced in pretty much exactly the same manner as any other comics at that time. The differences were all about the content -- the part of comics that readers engage with most directly and viscerally. What changed with First was a technological change, one that was evident on the printed page, but becasue was such a different approach, many readers couldn't really grasp the implications.

The book the First ad is talking about was Mike Saenz's Shatter, "the first computerized comic." There were a lot of technical limitations at the time. Drawing programs didn't go higher than 72 dpi, hence the very pixelated look. Only a dozen or so fonts were available AT ALL, so all the text looks blocky and utilitarian. I've talked about the book more extensively before, so I won't go into things again here. But what I find interesting here in particular is how First could see where things were headed... but they were just way too early in their prediction of how/when it would change.

It would be almost another decade before computerized lettering started to become adopted as an industry standard. And those efforts originally consisted of doing up the word balloons digitially... and then printing them out to physically paste onto the art boards. There were a couple graphic novels with digital art, but the next regular comic I saw that used it was in the back half of the '90s when they could finally use vector art. (Oddjob was by Ian Smith and Tyson Smith, and came out from Slave Labor Graphics starting in 1999.) It would be another decade or so of artists scanning their pencil art before digital tablets started to become sophisticated enough to adopt as regular production tools.

What I find interesting, then, is that this ad from 1984 was indeed right... they were only off on their timing by a couple decades. Which is enough time for most people to have forgotten about it.