An archive of The Monster Times magazine published from 1972 to 1976.
It was a typical winter’s day in New York City’s exotic Lower East Side when exterminator Roacho Rizzo began his daily rounds. Somewhere, beyond a gray veil of pollution, the sun was shining and the temperature stood at a pleasant, air-inverted 95 degrees, as Roacho took several giant steps throughout the litter-strewn streets to get to his first destination.
ANT MAN: He was in reality Henry Pym, a scientific chemical genius; who discovered a way to shrink down to ant-size and communicate with the insects. His female partner was the ‘Wasp.’ Together, they fought crime in Marvel Comics.
The BLACK WIDOW: She was really Miss Linda Masters. As the Black Widow, she set out to avenge the death of her husband. Her only disguise was à mask. Though she wore clothes. She first appeared in CATMAN COMICS No. 1. (In 1941, she was drawn by Allen Ulmer.)
The BLUE BEETLE: In reality, he was Dan Garrett. His uniform was blue, skin-tight, chainmail armor – with a blue mask. He used a magic blue lamp or lantern as a weapon. He first appeared in Mystery Men Comics and then got his own comic book later on. Many comics used him as a guest star, along with their regular superheroes. The artist that drew him was Charles Nicholas.
The FIREFLY: He wore a costume something like Air-Wave’s uniform. One of his special gifts was the artificial power to glow in the dark, in order to surprise criminals. Like many in the 1940’s, he fought Nazi agents.
The FLY-MAN: Was really Clip Foster, a prizefighter. His father, who was an inventor, created a serum that could shrink humans to the size of a fly. He was never able to regain his normal size. (He was in ‘Family Comics.’)
The FLY: He was no relation to ‘Fly Man’ In the beginning, he fought alone; but later on he adopted a female partner who came to be known only as Fly Girl. Together, they fought internal and international wrong-doers.
The GREEN HORNET: In reality, he’s Britt Reid; young publisher of the newspaper known as the ‘Daily Sentinel.’ He chose the name and emblem of the Green Hornet, because this type of insect is the angriest when aroused.
The HOODED WASP: The Hooded Wasp first appeared in SHADOW COMICS in the year 1942. He had a young teenage partner known as ‘The Wasplet’, who was in reality Jim Martin. They fought crime and Nazi agents.
The MOTH: He made his first appearance in MYS* TERY MEN Comics in 1940. Not much is known of him…though he probably beat up plenty of bad guys.
The RED BEE: In reality, he was Rick Raliegh; and was in Hit Comics. Another man-of-mystery, known but to God and the 3 people in the world who must have read him.
The SCARAB: He was named after the mystical, sacred Scarab; an insect considered holy in ancient Egypt. He wore the magic Scarab medallion around his neck at all times, for protection. He used mind and magic to fight crime.
The SILVER SCORPION: She was really Betty Barston, and she made her first appearance in Daring Mystery Comics in 1941 as a guest star.
The SPIDER: Like the Shadow, he was a rich playboy on the side. His black costume was like the Shadow’s except that it was lined with webs. His partner was an East Indian named Ram Singh. As a team, they fought Nazis n criminals.
SPIDER MAN: Peter Parker was bitten by a spider crawling with atomic radiation, and became Spider Man; with all of the powers of a spider. His greatest nemesis was the editor of the newspaper he worked for. (Marvel Comics.)
The SPIDER WIDOW: She began her crime-fighting career in Feature Comics No. 57. In reality, she was really Dianne Grayton; she had no particular powers. She used spiders to frighten her enemies. (As early as 1942 – drawn by Frank Borth.)
SPIDER WOMAN: She was really Helen Goddard, and she made her first appearance in Major Victory Comics No. 1 in 1944. She also fought Nazis n’ Japs.
The TARANTULA: was really John Law and first appeared in 1941, in DC’s Star Spangled Comics.
The WASP: She was the female assistant of Ant Man. With the scientific help of Henry Pym (Ant Man), she could be reduced to the size of a wasp; — wings n all. The Wasp first made her appearance in Marvel Comics in 1965.
The WASP: (Not the Marvel version), was really Burton Slade; and made his first appearance in 1939 in Silver Streak Comics. Drawn by J. Fletcher.
YELLOW-JACKET: Here was an unusually colorful comic book superhero. His costume was modeled after a giant bumble bee. It was mostly composed of black and yellow stripes, from head to toe; with an eye mask attached to it.
Jimmy Thornton
THE FLY MAN fought a lot of crooks, inconspicuously, as his pituitaries were gizmoed up, and he shrunk down… The comic he premiered in, was only inches tall.
Insects and spiders and other bug-like critters have been creeping and crawling across palpitating pulp paper since the first bundle of comics was baled together and tossed on a newsie’s curb way back in the 30’s. And Insectx in Comix are still creeping and crawling through comic book pages today. Just to give you the willies, we present a rather lighthearted (and lightheaded) survey of bug-ish-men and women who were super-heroes
BUGGED WITH COMICS?
Insects BUG me. They really do. They crawl up and down your body, touching it oh-so-lightly that you shiver just a bit, and your flesh crawls ever so slightly, and you get goosebumps and then you start to shake, trying to make it seem like nothing is happening to you so no-one knows that a bug is doing a tap dance in your armpit.
So insects bug me. I avoid them at all costs. I should say that I try to avoid them. But that’s like trying to avoid the master-bugger, J. Edgar Hoover at an F.B.I. convention. But there are some insects that I don’t get too bugged by … and they’re the insects that inhabit the dark corridors of comics.
After Superman made it big … after Batman decided to seek revenge for the death of his parents, after Captain Marvel met some drunk in the subways who told him to say Shazam and he would have superpowers… after all these normal type of characters had been created, some bright guy … an exterminator probably, decided that it would be a good thing to give a whole bunch of insect names to comic book heroes.
BUGS
If BATman was a terrifying name, wouldn’t TARANTULA be even more frightening? Everyone hates spiders. They make you feel yeechy and creepy and crawly and … you get the point. Or if not Tarantula, how about SPIDERMAN, or THE FLY, or BLUE BEETLE or any of the many other comic book characters.
Let’s go over some of the earliest characters and work our way up to the present. Comic book freaks will probably scream up and down saying I missed a whole bunch of these insect creatures, but then who cares? Let them write a follow-up article. Some of the characters I’ll just mention by name, simply because I know almost nothing of them. Others I’ll go into a bit of detail.
It seems that anything connected with spiders went over in the old days. Quality Comics brought us ALIAS THE SPIDER in Crack Comics, May 1940 to Aug. 1943. Ace gave us the inspiring hero, THE BLACK SPIDER. Everyone seemed to love the idea of the Black Widow, so there were many. Claire Voyant, a comic book name if ever there was one, worked out of mystic Comics and All Select Comics in the early 40’s. Linda Masters became the Black Widow for Catman Comics. And more recently, Marvel Comics revealed a young Russian Miss as the Black Widow. I say revealed, because this particular Black Widow did the first nude scene in a comic code approved magazine.
BUGS- BUGS-
Egypt became the source of some buggy comics. The holy insect prompted the unforgettable character, THE BLAZING SCARAB who undoubtedly will be remembered for many years to come. His career lasted for five exciting stories in Champion Comics, 1939 to 1940.
Whereas one Egyptian created hero lasted but one year, the career of the BLUE BEETLE spanned comic book history. Fox Features created the first Blue Beetle, whose identity was Dan Garrett. Holyoke took the feature over several years later in 1942. This character appeared not only in his own book, but also as a character in Mystery Men, Big Three, Real Hit, Phantom Lady, All-Top, Zegra, and Variety. Thuugin his own book didn’t last long, he was making appearances elsewhere until the early fifties.
AND EVEN MORE BUGS
In the Mid-fifties, Charlton Comics got the rights to the character and published it for a while, and then he was again dropped. In the early sixties he was brought back again in a disastrous comic published by Charlton, and was quickly canceled once more. A few years later, under the artistic hand of Steve Ditko, a man responsible for another buggy hero, Spiderman, the character was refurbished, given a new costume, a new identity, and, in fact, was accused of murdering the original Blue Beetle. This series, though short-lived, was the most creative and best written of all the Blue Beetle stories. One side note. Fox Features, in an attempt to cash in on Blue Beetle’s popularity, tried to peddle a comic strip featuring his adventures to the newspapers. Needless to say, it didn’t go too far.
Flies also got into the act. There were several different flying characters. The FIREFLY published by MLJ, later Archie Comics, was amongst the first. He appeared in Top-Notch until 1942. The Fly Man, Clip Foster, died one year earlier as a back feature in Spitfire.
Years later Archie Comics tried again, brought in the talents of Jack Kirby and Joe Simon, and The Fly flew again … but this Fly was an orphan who rubbed a magic ring and turned into an adult superhero. This interesting concept lasted four issues and then the comic changed. The art fell apart under new pencilers, and the storyline became zilch. Thomas Troy, the orphan, grew up, became dull, met a Fly-Girl, and finally changed his own name to Fly Man. Riding the crest of camp super-heroes, he died shortly afterwards. No one mourned his passing.
The Hooded Wasp appeared in The Shadow, and he, too, had a partner … Wasplet. Never let it be said that comics tried to be original! If the Hooded Wasp didn’t turn you off, the MOTH probably · would. Undoubtedly the Moth’s power was to eat the clothing off of your back. Moth appeared in the back of Mystery Men comics.
While The Moth was burning up in the limelight, THE SCARAB appeared. One thing about comics is, if a name proves interesting, everyone will soon use it. Better Publication, a conglomerate name for several other comic houses, published this character during the late 1940’s.
MORE BUGS YET
Then of course there was The Green Hornet.
Marvel Comics also got into the act. They entered the insect hero scene with The Silver Scorpian. The thing different about this here was that it was a girl. In her spare time, Betty Barston challenged evil as she powder-puffed her nose. Marvel also published, and still does, the character Ant Man, who later became Giant Man, then Yellow Jacket, and then Ant Man again. (Marvel characters often have identity crises and frequently don’t know who they are). Ant-Man married another insect, The Wasp, not related to The Hooded Wasp and Wasplet mentioned earlier, nor The Wasp that appeared in Silver Streak comics, nor the other Wasp that fought crime and stuff in Speed and Champ comics… I think that comics have seen enough wasps for a while. National (DC) Comics entered the scene in the early forties with Tarantula, whose secret identity was, get this, John Law! – Tarantula chased villains using his “web-gun,” walked up and down the sides of buildings, and, at times, was called Spider-Man. Marvel’s Stan Lee “came up with” his own Spiderman, Peter Parker, in the early sixties.
Finally we come to Yellowjacket. Yellowjacket appeared in the late forties under the secret identity of Vince Harley. Yellowjacket was also one of the names that Marvel used in connection with their character, Ant-Man.
That about ends the listing of insect heroes in comics. If you should know of any others – forget it. I’m not interested.
When I began this article I said comic book insect heroes were okay … that they didn’t bother me. I take that back. After going over a list that includes names like The Blazing Scarab, or Wasplet, or the Moth, comic book insect characters bug me as much as real insects do. Anyone have a can of Raid?
-Marvin Wolfman
ABOUT THE AUTHORS: MARV WOLFMAN is a pro-satire magazine writer, and writer-editor at DC Comics. JIMMY THORNTON is a mild-mannered doorman for a large, metropolitan apartment house, who, in his spare-time identify is the country’s most fan-atical enthusiast for The Green Hornet.
New York City Gripped by Crawling Giants!
WEIRD crawl-and-crush frights clawing up from the earth’s steaming depths! Creatures so astounding there was no word to describe “Them!”
The story you are about to read is true. I was there when it happened. My name is Steve Vertlieb, and I’m a newspaper reporter, specializing in human interest features to the Alamagordo, New Mexico, Epitaph, and occasional wire service extras.
I was covering a news story for which I took notes as I worked on it. The search for Frank Vogel, and his wife and child. These notes are printed now as I put them in my notebook. They are several different stories, all, until now, unpublished, suppressed by the FBI mostly – in the interest of national security, and they fit together to show the whole horrifying episode. These notes are as I wrote them… in these last few nightmarish days…
MYSTERIOUS deaths caused by inhuman objects lead Police Sergeant (JAMES WHITMORE) to gigantic footprints. MUND GWENN) and daughter (JOAN WELDON) are called in.
INVESTIGATING the murders, Joan is panic-stricken as a high-pitched screech heralds the approach of something awesome clawing its way toward her. With machine gun, FBI agent (JAMES ARNESS) rushes to help.
AGAIN the monsters strike. Fear grips the country and martial law is declared. Following weeks of diligent search and questioning, a legion of the creeping frights is tracked to storm drains beneath the ground.
SOLDIERS, equipped with flame throwers, bazookas and cyanide gas bombs, are sped to the scene. Tracing a course through darkened labyrinths, they finally locate …
THEM
The state police car edges its way carefully along the hot, New Mexico highway. It is searching, searching for someone lost and alone. Overhead, the continual roar of a police search plane stirs the stillness of the Mojave desert and awakens long-sleeping inhabitants, birds, snakes, scorpions. Man has invaded Satan’s sanctuary. But why does he dare?
An agent for the Federal Bureau Of Investigation is reported lost with his family while on a holiday camping trip in the desert. Now it’s up to local authorities to find the missing campers. Probably just an empty gas tank – though even that can mean life or death out here.
The plane reports finding an abandoned trailer camp a few miles off of the road and now Sgt. Ben Peterson and his partner, Ed Balckburn turn off in that direction. Hopeful.
Then we saw the Vogel girl. She’s but a child of 7 or 8, and she stands on the scorching road as though frozen solid from some deadly fear. The car rolls up to her and stops. The two officers emerge from their car, wondered what had caused the separation of a lonely, frightened little girl from her parents, especially out in the hellish desert. “You’re all right now. There’s no need to worry,” Peterson assures her “What’s your name, child? Where are your parents?”
His questioning is pointless, for the girl neither hears, nor replies to his prompting.
“She’s in a state of shock, Ben,” says Blackburn. “We’d better get her to a hospital and quickly!”
“Okay, but let the boys upstairs know that we’ve found her.”
Peterson removes the radio receiver from its cradle and begins calling the search plane overhead.
“Look, we’ve found their little girl but she’s awfully bad off. She can’t talk, and she doesn’t even seem to know that we’re here! We’d better head back! Over?” The frustrating rigamaroles of police work!
An anxious voice from above filters, through the radio. “Wait! we think we’ve sighted their trailer camp! It’s about a mile down the road from you.
You’d better take a look, Ben.” “Okay, we’ll investigate,” Peterson replied. “The girl couldn’t have wandered very far in this heat. The camp must be where she’s from.”
The officers place their ward beside me in the back seat of the squad car and proceed in the direction of the campsite. Their ride was a short one. The little girl makes no other movements that to look furtively out the window through the sides of her eyes.
“There it is, there it is, Ed! I see it! It’s just ahead.”
The trailer comes into view as the car rumbles over a ravine, but the Mr. & Mrs. Vogel, the rest of the missing family are not to be seen. Peterson comforted the little girl, Blackburn investigates the site further, disappears from view as he turns off around the side of the trailer. A shout! Peterson runs when he hears his partner’s call. I stay with the child.
Mystery Destruction
“Hey Ben, come here quick! You’ve got to see this! You too, Steve.”I follow in bewilderment. The deceptive serenity that greets passers-by at the frontal end of the campsite changed dramatically: only a few feet away, the camp was in a shambles, completely wrecked – horrifiedly torn apart!
But the damnable thing about the whole wreck, the thing that threatens to keep all of us awake nights, maddenly, for weeks to come, is the apparently inescapable conclusion that the walls of the trailer have been pulled out, rather than caved in!
Clothing was carelessly strewn about the ground and furniture had been smashed into firewood. No other sign of the parents. Child desertion? No, that’s not it.
Blackburn retrieves a small article from the ground. He examines it. Looks in the trailer for more of the same.
“Hey, Ben, look at this.”
Peterson joins him sits in the remains of what once was a chair.
“What you got, Ed?” he asks suspiciously.
“It’s a cube of sugar.”
“Well, what’s so unusual about a sugar cube?”
“I don’t know, Ben,” he said. “Nothing, I guess, except that the ground’s covered with them. Everywhere the damage is, I find dozens of these sugar cubes.” The inside of the trailer is covered with them. Would any family normally have so many sugar cubes?”
“Listen, let’s get back to town, Ed. That child needs medical attention, and from the look of this place I’d say that it’s a safe bet her parents aren’t going to turn up… at least not alive, anyway.” The F.B.I. has a stake in this now. Vogel was one of their top men. They shall be notified. That was the reasoning which brought our government onto this case.
The officers start their car and roll off back in the direction of town and civilization.
At the deserted camp the wind grows restless. As restless as we. The child sleeps, stiffly sitting up in the back seat. She looks wide awake . . . Poor child…
Local Merchant Mysteriously Murdered
“Pop” Smyth’s local general store is on the way back to town. Ben Peterson figures the little girl’s folks must have stopped there for supplies on their way out to the desert. If they had stopped, the chances are pretty good that “Pop” remembers them.
Getting twilight as the squad car pulls up in front of the small store. The lights are off inside. Pop never closes this early. Ben and Ed and I open the door and walk inside. The light switch on the wall wasn’t working, so Ed pulls out his flashlight, inventories the store.
In the eerie dimness the circle of light spots a weird tableau. Tables are overturned and merchandise savagely torn apart. The place looks like a hurricane had hit it. Blackburn noticed little white particles of dust scattered about the room/ Lifts a handful of the dust to his mouth. “It’s not dust,” he declares quickly. It’s sugar! Ben finds the trap door to the cellar partially open. Opens it further, shines his flashlight in. There is Pop. His body crumpled and lifeless, half on the steps and half off. He clutches a rifle in his arms, but even if he were still alive, that heavy metal rifle wouldn’t do him much good. Turned and twisted into a shapeless heap of garbage. It seemed as if some giant vice had gotten at him.
Ed heard a sound. Investigates outside. Ben is still in the cellar with Pop and myself. A sort of high-pitched whistling sound coming from outside. Instinctively, Ed unholstered his revolver as he creeps outside to the back of the store. We wait.
BULLETIN! Policeman Disappears
Whatever it was that he saw, Ed Blackburn will never tell. He was firing wildly at something that terrified him. The gunfire had no effect and Ed has disappeared, carried away by – WHAT?
He screamed, and then he was gone.
Ben found Ed Blackburn’s cap lying in the blood-stained dirt. He heard the sound too. It was intensely loud. Whatever had made it was heading back into the desert. After a while it had gone entirely … The Vogel child was safe in the car unmoving. Eyes open!
Wednesday, Pop Smythe died no ordinary death. It has been determined by the police lab that the elderly man had enough Formic Acid in his body to kill ten men. Thus ends this first aspect of the story for the time being.
Formic acid has proven a clue to bring Vogel’s child to awareness.
Doctors at the New Mexico Hospital had tried all afternoon to draw the child out of her shell but she was withdrawn too far, too deeply. It was hoped she would open up long enough to give them some idea of her parents’ fate. But it was no use. The girl’s mind was clamped shut. Whatever it was had frightened her was too terrible to remember. Hope was almost abandoned when a quick-thinking nurse walked in carrying the vial of Formic Acid. It was only a chance, of course, but as every• thing else had failed there wasn’t anything to lose by trying this. She removed the lid slowly and held the bottle under the little girl’s nose. The effect was instantaneous. There was a slight movement in her eyes as she started to regain her awareness. All at once the Vogel child was screaming. She grew hysterical and couldn’t be restrained. She was yelling it over and over agian, just one word again and again.
“THEM…..THEM…..THEM!”
Authorities Investigate Crime Sight – New Clue Found
Thursday morning. The abandoned campsite covered with swarming investigators. Every inch of ground in the immediate area gone over and photographed. Sgt. Ben Peterson and I noticed the sound. It seems to blend in with the desert wind. So subtle and yet there, part of the desert and yet completely alien to the surroundings. All hear it soon.
“What the Hell is it,’ Police captain asks.
“It’s nothing, nothing. The wind sometimes gets pretty freakish in these parts. That’s all it is.” Says Mayor (talking through his hat) Don’t print!
It’s almost like the sound of a thousand whistlers singing at once. The effect is awesome. It seems to come from all about. It grows louder. We are now surrounded by it. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the sound fades away back into the desert. In a moment… gone!
“Hey, will you look at this?” someone said, “Is this a footprint, or what?”
A huge indentation in the sand. Peterson stares intently at the shape. Never seen anything like it, he says. Neither has anyone else. A plaster cast of the print is made to be sent to Washington. Whatever it was, they should have a record of it and be able to send back an identification.
FBI Assigned to Killings
Thursday evening the F.B.I. has sent Robert Graham, a special agent from the Washington office to handle its interests in the case. Graham and Peterson will be working together for the first time. Ben doesn’t mind the company. I tag along. It’s been lonely on the job since Ed’s been killed.” – Peterson off the record.
Their first assignment; meet the plane of a specialist that the home office had sent down to assist in the investigation. They had just reached the airfield as the plane was set down. A young woman’s inescapably attractive legs begin descending the ladder. Peterson and Graham and Vertlieb exchange knowing glances. Graham reaches out his hands and helps the lady to the ground. Why don’t I join the FBI? – Off the Record though.
“Please help my father down,” she demands. “He’s having trouble.”
Graham walks up the ladder a bit, aides the old man down to a safe landing
Old man? The sparkling Santa Claus white hair and a mischievous grin that shines when he introduced himself betraying a youthful, inquisitive, logical mind. Hardly an FBI agent!
“You’re Graham, I take it. We were told that you would meet us. I’m Dr. Harold Medford, and this is my daughter, Patricia.”
“I beg your pardon, sir, but this is going to be a dangerous job. You and your daughter will only get in the way. Frankly, I don’t know why they sent you.” – Ben says this. Is his territory threatened? Does he see this as an insult to his skill? – A job for an editorial writer this.
Patricia Medford glares at us as she speaks.
“Listen! my father is one of the country’s leading Entomologists, and he’s better equipped to deal with what’s been happening out here than you are.”
“Entomologist??? Now What is an entomologist?” Ben demands, irked.
“It’s simply the study of insects, Sergeant,” the elder Medford explains. If this weren’t such a tragic case these quibbles would make a light feature story!
What do insects have to do with these unexplained deaths? Dr. Medford grows impatient at our puzzlement.
“Please, please, gentlemen … may I be taken out to the site of the first death. I want to see where the print was taken.”
“I think that can be arranged, Doctor,” offered Graham. “Do you have any idea what bug could have made a print like that?”
The doctor looked deep in thought and then looked at the three.
“I’d rather not say just yet, but if what I think has happened has happened it will be very serious indeed.” We leave first thing in the morn.
Monster Ants Discovered
Friday 7 am. The jeep stops at the trailer site and a team of investigators got out. Dr. Medford can’t walk very far; his daughter acts as his “leg-girl.” Pat Medford wanders away from the others, strikes out on her own…
It must have sensed our return for the strange, whistling sound returned. Pat was standing by a hill when she heard the sound for the first time. It was so intense now that she felt it must be quite near. She turned to start back and then she saw it Huge! A huge animal, larger than anything she had ever seen before. Its body seemed to be separated into three sections. “It had six legs, long tentacles reaching from between the eyes on the head, and huge pinchers that extended from the mouth and were evidently used by the creature to impale a victim and then inject fast-acting poison into the central nervous system.” – Pat Medford.
Pat screamed as the animal lumbered up and over the hill. Graham appeared suddenly and started firing at the animal. “Run, Pat”
The two sped from the hill; Graham continued firing bullets; emptying nearly two rounds of ammunition. The beast fell to the ground. Dead. Harold Medford left the jeep, and joined his daughter, and Bob Graham, and myself. ‘”What is it?” Graham.
“That,” said the doctor cooly, “is an ANT!”
“But, so huge?” – Graham.
“This was approximately the site of those Atomic bomb testing blasts, wasn’t it? Yes, of course it was. You know, children, we’ve entered a frightening age, this nuclear age of ours, and there’s no telling what will come out of it. We’re experimenting with energies that man has no experience with and our lessons will come hard, I’m afraid. I believe that these mutated ants – “Them,” if you will – were created by the testing of Atomic bombs in this desert. We must claim the awesome responsibility for bringing them into our world.” Thus spoke Professor Harold Medford.
2 hrs. later … It has been decided that the team fly over the site again in a helicopter to search for a hill in the shape of a huge cone. This would, inevitably, be the tunnel leading to the nest. General O’Brien and Major Kibbee are now in on this one. Kibbee flys along with Ben Peterson and myself. Alamogordo Air Force Base is cut into the game.
It looks like an ice cream cone sticking out in the desert. Dr. Medford’s face is grim. His worst fears are coming true.
“That’s it, gentlemen, that’s your nest.”
The helicopters are landed at the foot of the cone. The plan is a simple one: to shoot cyanide gas pellets into the nest with bazookas and hope that the gas would carry throughout the ant colony. As we approach the cone, huge antennas were emerging from the rim of the hill. The team grab their machine guns and began firing at the approaching behemoth. Medford screams instructions.
“Aim for the antennas. Aim for the antennas.”
First one antenna blown off, and then the other. The creature is dead.
From inside the cone they heard that Hellish whistling. Dr. Med ford has a curious expression on his face, a mixture of fear and fascination. Well, this must be a big day for him.
“Gentlemen, We may be witnessing a biblical prophesy come true – “And a terrible famine will encompass the land. . . and the beasts shall inherit the earth.” – a religious nut? Peacenik Ban-theBomber? No! This is said by a rational government agent.
“Stand back Doc” ordered the man with the bazooka. He fires deadly pellets into the cone. We wait. Inside, all hell breaks loose and the screaming of tortured ants rings through the desert.
It quiets down in there after a while. They should be dead but there’s only one way of finding out for sure. Someone must go down into the cone to see. Bob Graham, Ben Peterson and Pat Medford put on their fatigues, and covered their faces with gas masks, then descended into the pit. I follow in similar gear, close (not too close) behind.
It is an incredible sight! Hundreds, possibly thousands of giant monster ants lying dead at our feet! The stench is awful. . . even through the masks! Pat Medford tries to keep herself under rigid self-control for fear of fainting. Not an easy job. Even Ben Peterson looks queasy…
Suddenly, an entire cave wall was coming down on us and with it, a giant ant, desperately seeking an escape through them. Ben’s gun blazed madly away at the animal until it fell with a shriek at our feet. Too close for comfort!
“It must have escaped the gas on the other side of that wall,” Pat volunteers this theory.
At last we stand at the foot of the main nest. Pat reaches for her camera and takes pictures of the macabre scene. Spread out before us is a hideous crypt of wall-to-wall death. Creatures spawned by the atomic age condemned to death by a guilt-ridden, terrified mankind.
It is over, or has Man merely been witness to the beginnings of a shift in the order of things.. the rule of the insects?
Up on the surface, Dr. Medford studies the photographs taken by the team in the nest.
“Are you certain that these creatures were all you found in the main nest?” he asks gravely concerned.
“Yes, dad,” Pat says. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid that there’ a great deal that’s wrong, Pat. The queen is gone, probably with a mate. With the enormous size of her wings she could be halfway across the world in a matter of hours. If she mates and is allowed to reproduce, she can bring thousands of her offspring into the world in a single delivery! In that case, the human race is in very real danger of immediate extinction.”
Bombs away
Friday – 11:30 AM
The experience and personnel of the nation’s largest military communication’s centers are now at Dr. Medord’s disposal. Military and civilian operators are placed on around-the-clock standby duty to receive and check out any and all information coming into that office, from anywhere in the world, that might possibly lead to the present whereabouts of Them. We are using Alamagordo AFB as operations center, and…
It has happened! An urgent S.O.S. radioed in from a freighter in the Atlantic ‘tells of a horrible massacre in progress. As near as the operator can figure out, the queen must have flown aboard ship in the early morning hours and hidden in the great hold, left uncovered during the night. There she laid her eggs and flew off again unseen by the crew. Now, the ship’s crew is being devoured alive by hungry ants as their boat bobs helpless in the middle of the ocean…the radio operator’s message was abruptly cut off! General O’Brien orders the dead ship bombed and sunk as quickly as possible…
Flash! Another report in to Central of a man, a private pilot, who claims to have seen a “flying saucer” while taking his own plane for a spin. Graham decides it best for all concerned that the man remain under psychiatric care until the matter of widespread public panic had been averted. Besides, who would have believed a crazy story about a flying saucer with wings anyway? Bad joke. Kill this item. Friday, 9 PM
Things have been quiet for a few hours. Dr. Medford anxious, slept little, wonders when we will find next lead. Surely the calm before the storm… Saturday, 4 AM:
Early the following morning, a strange report reaches us from Chicago. One whole car on a freight train has mysteriously lost its cargo overnight, while parked in the stockyard. The nightwatchman was being accused of stealing the shipment and selling it on the black market. The guard protests that the entire incident was absolutely insane.
“Whoever heard,” he says, “of a black market for SUGAR?” Who indeed! We wait. Saturday, 4:30 AM:
Graham, Peterson, Pat and Dr. Medford and I are on the next plane bound for the windy city… Upon our arrival, we instigate a check on any strange reports turned in to local police during the night centering in the area of the stockyard. . . 8:30 AM – It is learned that a woman phoned in a missing persons report on her husband and small son. They had set out on a camping trip twenty-four hours ago and hadn’t been seen or heard of since. The two of them would often stop off at the stockyards to fly the boy’s model airplane.
“He loved that little plane,” she cries.
That’s just one more case to check into.
Late Saturday afternoon: the drunk ward of the county hospital; see a man who had been picked up the previous evening for drinking and for trespassing on railroad property. He might well have seen something. Find the man something less than sober, and raving. It is nearly impossible to get a straight answer out of him, Whea! We were just on the point of leaving when he blurted out something about “they’re coming out only at night.”
Raced back to his bedside! Asked what it was he was talking about.
“Sure, I’ll tell you,” he laughs. “I’ll tell you if you make me a sergeant of police like him. Make me a sergeant and charge the booze. Make me a sergeant and charge the booze. Make me a sergeant. . …”
The drunk got lost in his song and forgot about his earlier slip entirely. He had retreated into a coma-like shell, just as the little Vogel girl had. Local police officer was stares out of the window in the ward as though suddenly hypnotized by something he had seen. He turns and faces Bob, Ben, and me.
“How could the ants remain hidden in such a totally open area of the city? It would be an impossible task unless…”There’s only one place that they could hide. Come over to the window and look down there!” These words we knew as we heard them would turn the key.
Out of the window is an immense structure standing next to the stock-yards and directly across the street from the hospital. It towers above the street like an Egyptian obelisk. It spreads its many catacombs out in all directions and underlined all of the city, and its great, yawning entrance is right here… here, staring back at them. It is the entrance to the sewers of Chicago…
In a moment we were on the street in front of the sewer system. We hoped to find a trace, a clue, anything, just some positive indication that we were at last on the right track and in the final stages of their journey. The officer stooped down near the left supporting column of the structure and retrieved a toy. He handed it to us and looked sad. It was a boy’s model airplane. Absence speaks louder than words…
WAR!
The Governor has declared the city in a state of martial law. The total curfew will be strictly enforced. Meanwhile, the National Guard mobilizes. By nightfall the storm drains are surrounded on all sides by soldiers. On radio command, jeeps now begin rolling in the countless openings, perhaps to meet somewhere in the center. But this was a frighteningly dangerous task. There are 7,000 miles of drains woven under the Chicago’. An attack could spring upon the men from almost anywhere and at any time.
The signal to go in was given and the vehicles moved rapidly. Each jeep is equipped with a flood lamp to light the way for foot soldiers scouring the tunnels. I have special priority. I ride in Ben Peterson’s jeep.
One mile in: Ben Peterson stops his jeep and listens.
“What’s that? Do you hear it?”
Peterson now out of the jeep, and leans up against a drain pipe that emptied out into this tunnel. He hears it again. So do I. We both will never forget that sound. “Give me a flashlight,” he says. “I’m going through.”
With a helpful assist from the driver, Ben climbs up into the pipe and begins to crawl through. As he reaches the opposite end of the pipe he points the flashlight in the direction we thought we had heard the sound coming from. There is a large opening at the other end. On the far side of the room is a little boy, wedged behind some heavy piping. An ant is going for him, trying to get at him through the pipes. Ben fires his gun at the beast. . . brought him down! Quickly, he edges, his way out of the drain, climbs down into the open chamber. The driver covers Ben with a rifle… I hold pistol. . .scribble notes with one hand…
“Don’t be frightened, son, I’m coming to get you.” Ben is half lost behind sewer-pipe maze.
Ben moves toward the boy and helped him out of the corner. Turning around, he faces another giant ant. He barely has time to start firing this time. This was much too close for comfort. Ben and the boy ran to the drain pipe and prayed that they would get out in time. Ben lifts the boy up and into the pipe.
“Go ahead, so, just keep crawling through! The men at the other end will take care of you.”
Ten minutes later. . Ben put his rifle down and started to climb into the hole, himself. He didn’t see the shaggy, black shape silhouette on the wall behind him. Nor did we…It was too late to reach for his rifle so he continued climbing into the drain. The ant reached out its pinchers and grabbed him off of the wall. We saw the shadow of Ben struggling in mid-air against the walls.. .light was being shown thru a crack in a wall but it wasn’t any help whoever was behind that wall surely couldn’t get to him in time…I held the boy. . . The soldier tried to get a well-aimed shot at the ant, but couldn’t…My old friend was helplessly caught tight in those claws. The ant stabbed him over and over again, and I could sense the deadly poison racing toward his heart. Some soldiers broke through the wall then! Bob Graham fired wildly at the monster. But it was too late. The damage had been done. Graham ran over to his fallen new friend and gently cradled his head in his arms. A jeep rumbled away carrying the boy to safety.
“We came a long way together, Bob,” Peterson whispered. “I’m sorry I won’t be around for the finish with you.”
Ben died there, quietly, on the floor. That awful eerie whistling came again and Graham reeled back to fact it. Them grabbed hold of one of the supporting beams that held the roof up and brought the sky crashing down. Graham was stunned for an instant for there was silence. Then came gunshots echoing — the cave-in had separated him from the rest of us. Them are coming at him from all sides now! He is now backed into a corner and fighting jealously for his survival. We can’t get to him!…
Yes we will! The soldiers crash through the wall with their jeeps just as his ammunition runs dry; pistol clicking
“Aim for their antennas!”
Ten minutes later: Gunfire filled the room and the last ants fell with a deafening crash. Just beyond that room was an enormous pit and in that hole in the ground were three survivors of the hellish spawn. The soldiers lifted flame throwers and aimed them into the pit.
“Wait,” said Bob Graham urgently – “Don’t fire yet. We must be certain that no more have escaped and that this is the last of Them.”
Graham walked slowly toward the edge and studied his enemies. In the center of the two, newly hatched animals was the missing queen ant. So this was indeed the end. The battle was won. We had reached the finish of our journey…
“Burn them,” Graham orders, and walks away from these earthly sewer catacombs, into the fresh, wholesome air. I follow, still writing every chicken scratch I can.
On the surface, Dr. Medord is speaking…his words sum up what we all feel…
“When Man opened the door to the atomic age he released powers that were strange and new to him. We were like Pandora and ner box of legend, wondering if we were strong enough to dominate the forces we unleashed. We must bear an awesome responsibility for what we stumbled into. Now the atom age is with us and our fate as a race is irreversible. We may yet find that, like Pandora, the secrets of nature were too terrible to survive. Only time will tell us the answer to that. I pray that we haven’t done the wrong thing.”
NIXON’S ADMINISTRATION ATTACKS TV MONSTERS!
United States Surgeon General Jesse L. Steinfield on January 17th stated that a panel of 12 behavioral scientists have “detected a link” between TV violence and behavior.
Surgeon General Steinfield said his panel found “fairly substantial experimental evidence” shows a “short-run causation of aggression among some children by viewing violence on the screen. These children,” he added, “are those who are already “predisposed” toward “aggressive behavior,” due to “heredity, parental environment and other factors.”
The study, called the Scientific Advisory Committee on Television and Social Behavior, was started two years ago and made no actual recommendations, though it stated some interesting things about TV violence:
That violence on TV does not allow people to “let off steam.”
That a show called “Doomsday Flight,” scripted by Night Gallery’s producer, Rod Serling, about airplane bombings, triggered off five airline “bomb threats” within 24 hours.
And that girls are more violent than boys.
The study deliberately avoided commenting on news shows, which report of riots, bombings, murders, and war, “for First Amendment reasons” involving Freedom of Speech and Press.
THE MONSTER TIMES feels called upon to ask a few questions of the Surgeon General and anyone who takes him seriously:
First, what does this ominous report really say? Does it imply that the Federal Communications Commission will soon take action to reduce “violence” on TV? Will Nixon’s Surgeon General Steinfield and the FCC apply pressure to suppress or censor some of these shows?
And what about these “findings,” anyway? Rewritten by our Monster Times copywriters, they say (using all the government study’s facts and news releases):
“Surgeon General Jesse L. Steinfield said today that he THINKS there’s a link between violence on TV, and violence in real life, although the real-life people who are violent may be so, because of their environment, or (because of heredity), they were “born violent” in the first place; and maybe TV didn’t make them violent at all. The Surgeon General of the United States also revealed that as many as five cranks can make bomb threats to airlines on the same day that plays about airplane bomb threats are shown. He thinks that TV violence doesn’t let people “let off steam,” and that girls seem more violent than boys. To top it all off, the Surgeon General said he didn’t dare say anything about violence in real life causing violence, as with news programs, for that would interfere with Freedom of Speech and Press-a right guaranteed in the First Amendment, but which seems a right denied producers of television fiction shows.”
There you have it-in 164 words, rather than the 275 pages which the committee’s report took.
Monster fans beware! Our President’s Surgeon General doesn’t like monsters, it seems to us. Are we soon to see little signs flashed on our TV screens: “WARNING! Watching This Monster Movie May Make You VIOLENT!”? Instead of just violently ill.
Chuck
CHUCK R. McNAUGHTON: Almighty Editor. JOE KANE: Managing Editor. ALLAN ASHERMAN, PHIL SEULING, STEVE VERTLIEB: Associate Editors. BRILL AND WALDSTEIN: Art Direction. BILL FERET, DENNY O’NEIL, C.M. RICHARDS: Columnists. ALLAN ASHERMAN, JESSICA CLERK, DAVE IZZO, DEAN ALPHEOUS LATIMER, ED NAHA, C.M. RICHARDS, STEVE VERTLIEB, JIM WNOROSKI: Contributing Writers. JACK JACKSON: Contributing Photographer. LARRY WALDSTEIN: West Coast Correspondent. JESSICA CLERK: European Correspondent. RICH BUCKLER, ERNIE COLON, CARLOS GARZON, DAN GREEN, STEVE HICKMAN, JIMMY JANES, JEFF JONES, MIKE KALUTA, GRAY MORROW, B.B. SAMS, LARRY TODD, BERNI WRIGHTSON: Contributing Artists.
1 THEM!
The giant ants who drove James Arness back home on the range.
6 BUGS-HEROS IN COMIX:
A survey & checklist of “buggy” comic book heroes.
9 IT CRAWLED FROM OUT OF THE WOODWORK!
Special NEW MT foto-comix horror film… a load of laffs?
10 MONSTER TIMES TELETYPE:
Facts and fantasies about what’s new.
12 THE EMPIRE OF THE ANTS:
A rediscovered classic horror story by H.G. Wells.
14 HOW TO SELL A GORILLA:
Part Two of Steve Vertlieb’s Kong Khronology.
16 MONSTER TIMES COLORFUL CENTERFOLD:
A recreation of one of the thrilling original KNOG POSTERS used in the original campaign.
19 THE CARE AND FEEDING OF YOUR PET VENUS FLYTRAP:
Now you need never be alone! …And an answer to a letter!
20 COMES THE GRAY DAWN:
What happens when bug-men really do inherit the earth?
22 MUSHROOM MONSTERS PART II:
Don’t go away!
It’s time to play! – END OF THE WORLD!
25 VIRGIL FINLAY:
A book review.
He was SF’s Norman Rockwell!
28 STAN LEE AT CARNEGIE HALL:
The opinions expressed by The Latimer are not necessarily even HIS!
THIS ISSUE’S COVER: is based on “THEM,” conceived and executed by an illustratress named Wendy Wenzel, a MONSTER TIMES delineating discovery. 24-year-old Winsome Wendy comes from a family of illustrious artists. “I love crawly bugs,” says Wendy, whose cover bears out this statement.
THE MONSTER TIMES, No. 3, March 1st, 1972 published every two weeks by The Monster Times Publishing Company. P.O. Box 595, Old Chelsea Station, New York, N.Y. 10011. Subscriptions in U.S.A.: $ 6.00 for 13 issues, outside U.S.A.: $10.00 for 26 issues. Second-class mail privileges authorized at New York, N.Y. and at additional mailing offices. Contributions are invited provided return postage is. enclosed; however, no responsibility can be accepted for unsolicited material. Entire contents copyrighted (c) 1972, by The Monster Times Publishing company. Nothing may be reprinted in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher. Subscriber change of address; give 8 weeks notice. Sand an address imprint from recent issue or state exactly how label is addressed.
HEY GANG! DIG THIS TOTALLY LOGICAL HANG-UP IN FULL COLOR!
I COULD DIG SUCH A HANGUP! Enclosed is $ ….. for No. ….. of your GIANT SUPER FULL-COLOR STAR TREK POSTERS of Mr. Spock, and the original prop of the Starship Enterprise! Rush it to me in that sturdy cardboard mailing tube, right away! I enclose 20¢ postage for each poster on an order totaling less than $20.00, for postage and handling. By the way, just in case you guys don’t take the time to read the address on the letters you get, I’m sending the loot and this coupon to:
THE OLD ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
P.O. Box 595, Old Chelsea Station,
New York, N.Y. 10011
THE OLD ABANDONED WAREHOUSE is here! Now you can order rare and hard-to-get books about monsters, comics, pulps, fantasy and assorted betwitching black sundries. Some of the items are for older fan enthusiasts, and some ask you to state age when purchasing. Don’t be put off by the formality, the pulsating Post Office isn’t.
POSTERS BY FRANK FRAZETTA.
For mood and tone and anatomy and stark portraits of wonder, Frazetta is the master! Each poster awakens your sense of awe and fascination. The colors and details are reproduced magnificently. Breathtaking to see and own!
A. WEREWOLF (cover painting for CREEPY 4).
Silhouetted against an orange moon is the ravening beast of our nightmares, about to pounce on the victim who has unfortunately discovered him! ….. $2.50
B. SKIN DIVER (cover painting for EERIE 3).
There is the treasure chest, spilling its riches into the ocean depth in which the awed skin-diver has discovered it. But what is that fearful, monstrous thing rearing up behind it? ….. $2.50
C. BREAK THE BARBARIAN VS. THE SORCERESS (cover painting for Paperback Library paperback).
Brak, with sword and on horseback, looks up into murky skies to see is it a vision of a woman? Is that evil she seems to convey? Or menace $2.50
D. CONAN OF CIMMERIA (cover painting for Lancer paperback)
Toe to toe, Conan fights with brute savagery, death in every axe stroke, against two frost giants. The scene is a blazingly white mountain top under an ice-blue sky! Thorough drama! ….. $2.50
E. CONAN THE CONQUEROR (cover painting for Lancer paperback)
Bursting like a firestorm into the midst of a hellish battle, Conan comes, astride his maddened charger, cleaving his bloody way! The background is fire and death and savagery ….. $2.50
ALL FIVE FRAZETTA POSTERS ….. $10.00
(POSTERS ARE MAILED IN STRONG CARDBOARD TUBES)
Bob Weinberg, Robert McKinstry & Lohr McKinstry, ed. ….. $3.50
Where did the Black Hood appear before comic books? When did the long and incredibly successful Shadow series begin? How long did Doc Savage run? The pulp magazines with continued adventure hero features are listed in this compact and efficient reference book. Note: This book is mainly a listing of old pulp mag. characters and titles, of interest to completists and zealous fans, but not of much value to a person looking for samples of the actual surprises. We say this, hoping to avoid confusion or ill feelings.
Alan Barbour, ed. $4.00
The world’s favorite Dracula is seen in a bookful of photos of Bela Lugosi in his weirdest roles. Softcover twin volume to the Karloff book. Excellent stills from the great Lugosi horror films, and plenty of them. 52-pages.
Donald M. Grant ….. $12.00
Beautiful hardcover book, limited memorial edition, including a magnificent sampling of the art of this great science-fiction illustrator. Mostly black-and-white and some outstanding color plates. Also contains a full listing of Finlay’s work and where to find it, and his bio.
Proves again and again, page after page that Finlay did for horror & sci-fi what Norman Rockwell did for The Saturday Evening Post.
Jules Feiffer ….. $5.00
A frank and nostalgic backward look at a childhood of comic book reading. And then adventure after (original) comic book adventure showing us the complete origin of stories of Batman, Superman, and Green Lantern, and episodes in the careers of the Spirit, Flash, Hawkman, and more! All in beautiful color! Dynamite!
Alan Barbour, ed. $4.00
Boris Karloff was the magnificent master of disguise and menace. You can see dozens and dozens of photographs of his various roles in this 52page all-photograph softcover book. Each photo is full-page size (81/2 x 11) and is clear and vivid. A horror-film fan’s prize.
Jones et al., ed. $2.00
This deadly magazine comic book was the cooperative effort of Jeff Jones, Mike Kaluta, Bruce Jones, and Bernie Wrightson. They experiment with stories of the odd and the macabre, in spidery, Gothic style! Moody and dramatic and high quality.
Kirk Alyn ….. $5.00
The first actor ever to play the part of Superman has written this memoir. It is filled with film-making stories (how he caught fire while flying), good humor, and many, many photographs. Fun reading, even for non-film fans.
Winsor McCay ….. $3.00
This softcover, thin book is an amazing look at the art nouveau “psychedelic” comic strip artwork of Winsor McCay. Nemo appeared in the early 1900s, and is still the best visual fantasy ever to appear on a comic page:
Gray Morrow ….. $4.00
A sketchbook of a comic art master featuring fantasy, science-fiction illustrations and visual delights such as girls, monsters, swordsmen, and girls! This volume is recommended for serious students of art, illustration, science fiction, fantasy, swordsmen monsters and of girls–but over age 18.
Hal Foster ….. $7.00
Here is one of the greatest adventure strips ever drawn, by the finest artist the comic art world has ever produced! Even before beginning his 33. year Prince Valiant career, Hal Foster did the Sunday pages of Tarzan, and this book (softcover, Life Magazine-sized) reprints 55 pages of Tarzan’s story. Where else can this “lost” work be seen?
Jim Steranko ….. $3.00
There is a series involved here, and this is volume one. You can find few better descriptions of how comic books evolved (from newspaper strips and pulp adventure magazines), and there are hundreds of photos and illustrations. Nifty reading, great art – poster-sized full-color cover by the author.
Vern Coriell, ed. ….. $2.50
It’s Frazetta-need we say more?
A slim sketchbook which covers some of the finest black and white linework by this super-artist, Frank Frazetta. Each figure shows detail, mass, strength, and drama. For collectors of the best. … You must be 18 to buy this volume. State age when placing order.
Hal Foster ….. $5.00
The first Tarzan ever to appear in comics form was a daily strip drawn by Hal Foster with the text of the book printed beneath each panel. Designed to run for a few weeks, Tarzan has now been going for forty years. But this book contains the first strips ever drawn, reprinted in clear lines in a wrap-around softcover book. Good value.
THE OLD ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
P.O. Box 595, Old Chelsea Station, New York, N.Y. 10011
The proverbial Old Abandoned Warehouse which you’ve heard about in so many comics, movies and pulp adventure and detective novels is open for business. Abandoned Warehouse Enterprises presents the most AWEful, AWE-inspiring AWEsome AWEtifacts AWEvailable at AWE-striking AWE-right prices! Indicate which items you want
NOTE: Add 20¢ postage and handling per item for orders totaling less than $20.00. Make checks and money orders payable to: ABANDONED WAREHOUSE
I think THE MONSTER TIMES is just what I’ve been looking for! Enclosed is $ …..
Make check or money order payable to:
THE MONSTER TIMES,
P.O. Box 595, Old Chelsea Station,
New York City, N.Y. 10011
As a new subscriber (for a sub of one year or more), here is my 25-word ad, to appear FREE of charge in Fan-Fair as soon as possible.
Subscription Rates:
$6.00 for 13 issues (6 months)
$10.00 for 26 issues (1 year)
$18.00 for 52 issues (2 years)
$12.00 for 26 issues CANADA
$18.00 for 26 issues FOREIGN
PS: I pledge by the light of the next full moon to bother my local newsdealer until he (a) shakes in his boots at the sight of me, and (b) regularly and prominently displays THE MONSTER TIMES.
Please allow a few weeks for your subscription to be processed.
Oh, be kind to your 6-footed friends, for THE FLY may be somebody’s brother-department:
In our next incomparable issue of THE MONSTER TIMES, we astound you by presenting more bugs than Agnew has adverbs.
We’ve got THEM!–gobs and hordes of THEM!, the giant-ant pic that made James Arness cheerfully go back home to the range. Them there THEM valiantly tried to take over the world … but them THEM bugs just couldn’t quite succeed.
However, the producers of THE HELLSTROM CHRONICLE calmly ho-hum that bugs indeed will out-out-live, out-last, out-populate out-eat and outstandingly rule whatever becomes of we mere humans. And use our human carcasses like hamburger stands for a gigantic eat-out.
With that chilling prediction in mind, we’ve acquired a special approPoe-ish comic strip by top pro-comix writer, Marv Wolfman, illustrated by pencil and pen whiz, Rich Buckler. They’re a new comic art talent combo to be reckoned with. Their collaboration portrays life among the humanoid insect-men who will someday replace us. And this chillingly prophetic comic art vision is aptly dubbed, “COMES THE GRAY DAWN!”
Marv Wolfman (his name used to be Marvin Vampire, but he changed it) has also contributed a lighthearted survey of INSECTS IN COMIX, and to help round out the creepish-crawl-ish, we’re reprinting a long-forgotten masterprose, EMPIRE OF THE ANTS, by sci-fi’s granddaddy-longlegs, H.G. Wells. Illos specially commissioned for it from pulp illustrator par excellence Mike Kaluta.
AND there are continuations of MUSHROOM MONSTERS and KING KONG, and some surprises.
NOW! isn’t that an issue you don’t wanna miss? If so, doncha wanna be double-darn sure you get it delivered to your door by the postman-just by filling out ye olde subscription coupon on this page? Doncha, huh? Doncha huh? Doncha?
**** EXTRA MONSTER BONUS! –
Also with every subscription of one year or longer, you get a FREE 25-word classified ad to be run in our Fan-Fair classified page. You can advertise comics or stills or pulps, etc. for trade, or for anything else – provided it’s in good taste!
THE MONSTER TIMES FAN FAIR is another reader service of MT. Care to buy, sell or trade movie stills, old comics or tapes of old radio programs? Or maybe buy or advertise a fan-produced magazine? An ad costs only 10 cents per word (minimum, 25 words).
Make all checks and money orders payable to THE MONSTER TIMES, and mail your clearly printed or typewritten ad (or fill out coupon on back cover) to: THE MONSTER TIMES, Box 595, Old Chelsea Station, New York, N.Y. 10011. We reserve the right to refuse ads which would not be deemed appropriate to our publication.
All kinds of good comics for sale at ungodly low prices. Send for free list. Ron Kasman 254 Codsell Ave., Downsview, Ont., Canada
Pen-Pals Wanted: Comix, Science Fiction and Fantasy Fans Preferred. Write F.L. Watkins, Box 110, Mason City, Illinois, 62664
Wanted: First 10 Doc Savage pbs. Also movie stills, sf posters, comix posters. Write before you send. Larry Brnicky, Box 32, Owen Hall, West Lafayette, Indiana 47906
Wanted Detective Comics No. 64. Will pay $20.00 for complete mint near mint copy. Write Ronald Wilber, RFD, Clements Road, Liberty, N.Y. 12754 before sending.
Alter Ego – published by Marvel associate editor Roy Thomas. 4 issues $5. No. 10 (Kane, Kubert, Wood) $1.50. 305 E. 86th St., Apt. 18K-West, N.Y.C., N.Y. 10028
Send for free lists of thousands: pulps, comics, ’40-’71, mags: sale, or trade for my wants. Randolph M. Poling, 3813 Trilby Dr., Apt.B, Indianapolis, Ind. 46236
The Last Avenger Lives! A.A.D. 44 Palmer St., Medford, Mass. 02155
Wanted: Contact No. 3. any Gothic Blimp Works with MWK, Wrightson, Bode. Ken Strack, Cave Creek Stage, Box 153-B, Phoenix, Ar. 85020
Wanted: Original Art, Fantasy Stills, Superman Cartoons, Sale: Amazing, Gersbeck Autographed ish 1.-G.H.Orentlicher, 1782 Homestead Ave., Atlanta, Ba. 30306
Ray Harryhausen, Christopher Lee and Peter Cushing are interviewed in the new L’Incroyable Cinema. $.80 from Steve & Erwin Vertlieb – 1517 Benner St., Phila., Pa. 19140
Wanted: Books illustrated by Maxfield Parish, Arthur Rackham, N.C. Wyeth and Frank Godwin. Send Prices to Dave Pardee 3047 Whitney Ave., Hamden Ct. 06518
800 Horror Comics (1950-1954) – Good Condition – Top Bid over $350.00 takes all: inquire: James M-G Hurst, 1249 E. Osborn Apt. No. 20, Phoenix, Ariz. 85014
Many Comics for sale, all 15°@ PB’s, Pulps, Mags, etc., Send 15¢ to Greg Rice, 1571 E. Bates Pkwy, Englewood, Colo. 80110
Want tape recordings of: Peyton Place, Doomwatch, Doctor Who, Forsythe Sage, U.F.O., Survivors and Strange Paradise. Ken Wong, P.O, Box 636, Port Hardy, B.C.
Wanted: Marvels before 1967 in VG to Mint Only. Also want art. Send prices to: Joe Barney, 1127, W. Spruce, Chippewa Falls, Wisc. 54729
For sale: Daredevil No. 20-52. All in very good condition. 200 each. Ronald Sewy, P.O. Box 72, St. John’s, Nfld., Canada
We buy old comic books Send list of what you have to sell to Post Office Box 850, Bronx, N.Y. 10451
Howski buys, sells, trades books, mags, comix. Interested? Inquire for information and opportunities at: Howski Comix and Productions, 18 Hawk Rd., Levittown, Pa. 19056
Wanted: Sunday Newspaper strips by – Eisner, Foster, Manning, Hogarth, Raymond. E.C. Comics, Finlay and Bok Portfolios, comic strip reprint comics. Similar items to trade. Gary Fairfax, Dept. of Physics, M.S.U., E. Lansing, Mich. 48823
THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF COMIX: Fan and pro entertainment by great writers and artists. Fifty cents from: Neal Pozner, 4028 Anne Dr., Seaford, N.Y. 11783
ON SALE NOW: THE SPECTRUM No. 3. 15€ each (20¢ each airmail) Vincent Marchesano, 19 Richwill Rd., Apt 313 Hamilton 40, Ontario, Canada
ROBERT KLINE PORTFOLIO Humor, Horror, Prehistoric lllos, 52 pages. $2.25 total from Gary Groth. 7263 Evanston Road, Springfield, Va. 22150
ERB-dom/THE FANTASY COLLECTOR: A double-barreled monthly magazine about Edgar Rice Burroughs, adzine for Science Fiction Book & pulp collectors. 3 sample copies, $1. CAZ, BOX 550, Evergreen, Colo. 80439.
CANAZINE, 50¢, 60 offset pages. Nostalgia! Canadian comics! Art; Romita, Spiegle, Metzger, Fritz, Costanza, etc. Text: Fagan, Isabella, etc. 5252 Borden, Montreal 265, Quebec, Canada.
L’INCROYABLE CINEMA, Britain’s finest fantasy film magazine is now available to American Subscribers at $.80 per copy, and $2.50 for three issues. Order now from Steve and Erwin Vertlieb, 1517 Benner Street, Philadelphia, Pa. 19149.
Fandom’s Greatest Newsletter is Back! THE COMIC READER is now available from Paul Levitz, 393 East 58 Street, Bklyn, NY 11203. Offsetmonthly, 12-16 pages, 30¢ + an 8° stamp.
COMICS! Marvels (1964-1971) at DECENT PRICES! Most 200 or 404. Send S.A.S.E. for price list; Dan De Prez, 11015 N.E. Flanders, Portland, Ore. 97220
COLLAGE, Fandom’s only bi-weekly zine for film & comic fans, by Fandom’s oldest fanzine publisher. 5 Issue subscription, $2.50. COLLAGE, SW 212 St., Miami, Fla. 33157
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by JOAN WINSTON
Long-time STAR TREK fan, and chopped-chicken-liver diplomat, Joan Winston was present on the set the week they shot the last show of the series, and saw and made friends with the whole Trek Crew, actors and producers alike. Luckily for us and you readers, who no doubt have wondered what it was like with Nimoy, Shatner, Roddenberry, et al during –
The director yelled,”Cut! Print it!” Captain Kirk kiddingly his lips and ambiguously blew kisses to Sulu and Chekov, effectively breaking up the cast on the Star Trek set. Shatner was always good for a few gags during the shooting day. Visitors to the set, knowing him only as the efficacious and efficient Captain, and one of the finest actors in the business, were constantly amazed at this other side of his personality. He seemed to take particular delight in breaking up his co-stars, Nimoy and Kelley.
STARDATE: TERMINUS
It was hard to believe that they were shooting the last episode of what might very well be their last season. Spirits were high, and jokes, practical and otherwise, were the order of the day. I was told that many of the technicians and crew had requested assignment to Star Trek because it was a “fun” set. “We may come in a day late, but we have a ball.”
Elaborate put-ons are thought out and planned as carefully as a program presentation. One had zany Shatner in a long black fright wig, two-inch false eye-lashes, falsies and a purple sequined ukelele doing Tiny Tim’s “Tip Toe Through The Tulips”. Sometimes the put-ons went a little too far from sanity, but they helped keep the set loose and easy. Carl Daniels, the veteran sound mixer, told me that Bill Shatner was that way all day. “Eight in the morning or nine at night … It has been so great working with Bill and the rest of the cast; shame it has to end …” He stopped, sighed, “Well, maybe a miracle will happen.” None did.
A STAR-SHIP DOCTOR IS A GIRL-PHOTOGRAPHER’S BEST FRIEND
DeForest Kelley, truly the southern gentleman, was my charming guide for most of the time on the set. Cameras are not allowed on the lot unless you have permission from the front office. I smuggled in my trusty instamatic and De took great delight in helping me grab shots when no one was looking. On the last day of production when I confessed this to the First Assistant Director, Gene Durelle, he told me he knew all about it, but appreciated the fact that I had never shot a flash during filming or absconded with one of the stars when they were needed and tried to keep out of everyone’s way.
CHICKEN LIVER’LL GET YOU OUT OF THIS WORLD
“If all visitors were like you, this would not be a closed set”. Closed set? Then how did I get on the set? Did you ever hear of Chopped Chicken Liver? I knew this VP at Paramount with a passion for CCL, and casually mentioned my impending trip to the coast. “You must let me show you around the lot,” he said. “Mission: Impossible”, “Mannix”…
“How about Star Trek?”
“I tell you what; you bring me some homemade CCL and I’ll get you a lunch date with William Shatner.”
LEAPIN’ LIZARDS! LUNCH WITH THE CAPTAIN
OF THE ENTERPRISE! The lunch date never materialized, by the time my friend got around to asking Mr. Shatner he was all tied up. Just as well, I had more fun on the set.
A WELL-KEPT THOUGHT
My first day on the set was Shatner Day, we had joked around and had a ball. In the script they were shooting he changes personalities with a woman and there were many jokes about this. The official title was “TURNABOUT INTRUDER” but the crew’s title was “CAPTAIN KIRK – SPACE QUEEN!” I told Bill I had never met anyone who reminded me less of a woman. He grinned and said, “Keep that thought!”
CHICKEN LIVER, AGAIN
My second day was Nimoy Day. Essentially a very serious actor, he would love to do something on Broadway – distinctly unSpockian. I got the feeling Mr. Nimoy has had it as Spock. He was extremely warm and friendly. Somehow we got on the subject of Chopped Chicken Liver. “Vulcans can’t eat that, you know. But skinny Jewish actors love it!” he laughed. Of course, I brought him some the next day.
CHICKEN LIVER & SCHNOODLES?
De Kelley was my real buddy. A real pro, always ready when you needed him, knowing his business and his lines. One night on the drive home we talked about his lovely wife, his schnoodle (1/2 schnauzer, 1/2 poodle) and how they loved their house but might have to move because the kids in the parochial school up the street had discovered that “Doctor McCoy” lived there and were knocking on his door all day hoping for a glimpse of their hero. “It really is something to get this kind of popularity after so many years in the business.” Nimoy had recently moved for the same reason. Shatner, in the process of his divorce, had moved in with friends, no one knew where, but if the constant calls on the set were any barometer, half the female population of Los Angeles County was trying to find out.
THE LAST CHOPPY DAY: COLDS AND COLD-“CUTS”
The last day of production rolled ’round. It was a difficult day. They were behind and should have finished the day before. Shatner came in with the flu and a fever of 103 deg.
When Len Nimoy finished his last line and the director called “Cut”, he very slowly and ceremoniously removed his ears for the very last time.
Shatner and Sandy Smith, his leading lady, kept on working till late in the afternoon. Except for the bright flush on his face which they kept trying to cover with make-up and the feverish look in his eyes, you would never have known it when he was on camera.
They finally finished and all the crew gathered around him, shaking his hand, some with tears in their eyes. Three long hard years coming to an end. To many of them this was their family. You spent 12 to 14 hours a day with these people – you saw them more than your real family.
THE LAST MOMENTS
After the show was wrapped up there was a cast party but no one’s heart was in it. I was invited but felt it would be an intrusion to accept. I did stay a little while and as I was leaving, Shatner came back on the set after having rested for about an hour. He looked quite ill and drawn but felt he had to make a showing
It was a quiet party, no one really felt like joking.
Small gifts were exchanged, Good-byes were said. Soon the set was cleared, the props put away and just the empty sound stage left.