5 Awesomely Absurd Comic Covers

With these covers populating the rack it becomes harder to blame the older generation for their preconceptions about comics. It seems that most of the stuff before the late 70's was insane. Imagine seeing some of these issues today.

I guess there is nothing scarier to white society than an enormous black man with an interesting taste in costumes and a need to ventilate his stomach.

First of all the very concept of Christian recruiting comics is hilarious, especially one that involves the smuggling of bibles. Secondly, the boy is asking God to purposely blind people, (those people being Russians that look Japanese?) 

Everybody knows there's nothing more heroic than killing animals, especially when that animal is the dreaded Snowy Cat Panda.

Apparently saying the magic words makes your crotch disappear. Notice that it's only men that are terrified.

And finally a comic so full of awesome I would pay quadruple the price (40 cents) to read it today. Going by its cover it involves cowboys fighting nazis and it stars Spurs Jackson and his gay boxing vigilantes. I'm not quite sure where space comes into play though.

From The Lab

Prepare The Dogs For War

The time has come to sound the horn,
Bear your arms and weather the storm,
Question if you have what it takes,
Break a sweat to deny those thoughts,
For when the future takes its shape,
There'll be no time between those shots,
The moment when all reason's gone,
Will be the time your called upon.

Pray for your chosen faith, rejoice,
In hopes that something heard your voice,
Ignore the violent ravages,
Stand back to back with your Judas,
Grow comfortable with savages,
And swim with the barracudas,
When hours pass into long days,
You'll see the viewpoints of the crazed.

Find ways to justify all needs,
Exhale gently and draw a bead,
Execute, as good soldiers do,
And improve those little talents,
The oldest sin is nothing new,
So just overcome the challenge,
Lie down and try to sleep the sleep
Of innocence and counted sheep.

Pic of the Litter

A provocative piece by multi-media artist Dave McKean, whose haunting, otherworldly art has inspired me for a long time. I believe it's called Blood Of A Poet. 

From The Lab

Reflections On A Dream

Let us call it a beach,
(It is the idea closest to which we can understand,)
Although its surface is not sand,
The tide has little water and
Its horizon is always changing.
I am not the first to see it;
Indeed, there were people here when I first arrived,
Far away in the distance. Only now,
A few yards to the left and everywhere in between:
A woman who keeps her back to me,
Pretending not to notice, while playing
In the not-sand sand,
A mustachioed man writes on old parchment
Set against his lap, looking up at me every so often
Then back down at his yellowing page;
I wish he would not notice me.
A smallish girl was dancing along the water's(?) edge,
Collecting radiant pink gemstones
In her apron, before smashing them against the rocky terrain,
Cackling in delight as she did so.
Somewhere in the distance a bicycle bell is tinkling,
And for some dreadful reason
I hope the God-foresaken thing never reaches me.

From The Lab

Oversimplified

The world can end if one man lives,
Be he of evil mind.
Defiantly the country gives,
It's blood, sweat, tears, and time.
The days of doom are most unkind,
As death is neatly packed,
Trust those that read the clues and signs
To make the planned attack,
That leaves our truths intact.

Deception invades a homeland.
Continue with the fight,
We can destroy the holograms,
And dim those men of light.
Don't speak the truths that may give sight,
When we're the ones that see,
Report the facts that pierce the night,
The peasants will feel free,
(But never know the fee.)

Pic of the Litter

...And you thought an iceberg was to blame.

From The Lab

Wait A Little Longer

Reach out your hand, fair brother,
I will not slap it down,
My help was meant for another
Who was fed raw to the hounds,
But have faith in a stranger,
Look upon me with hope,
I see your creeping danger,
I plan to save you both,
Worry not for these bleeding wounds,
They won't slow me a little,
To think that these would spell my doom
Is foolish and a riddle;
Now I must take my leave,
Though don't distress that face,
I'll soon be back, before you bleed,
And use myself to take your place.