I like how in the Water Phoenix King world, a ship that rides down from the sky on a road of molten fire isn’t damnation. It’s just a change of employment. Also, I have been reading old Thor, which is really coming out in the colors.

I’ve also been reading Kamandi: The Last Boy on Earth by Jack Kirby, a book that truly defines “historical value only.” Rehashed Planet of the Apes with a menagerie of animals crossed with stale 60s apocalypse tropes. And to make it worse, a giant sausage-fest. That’s the weird thing about going back and reading a lot of these old comics—there are No. Women. I mean, there also tend to be no minorities, but I blame that more on segregation and ignorance. The near-total absence of women, though, is just plain creepy, since these writers and artists must have interacted with women. I mean, 20th century America wasn’t known for its harems; there were women outside, some of them even with jobs. Yet the moment these artists aren’t drawing Manhattan or Peoria—the second we’re in the post-apocalypse or in deep space—the women just vanish. It’s creepy.