Into the Weird: Where Strange Tales Assemble

This is the very first edition of Strange Ruminations: Into The Weird's Official Newsletter! Prepare to embark on a trek through the bizarre and the fantastical, where every Friday, your blogger of the bizarre Herm (that's me) will venture into the labyrinth of comic book curiosities, the mystifying realms of sci-fi, and the enchanting worlds of fantasy in books, films, and the streaming realm. Whether you're a seasoned wayfarer in these genres or a curious newcomer, the newsletter promises to be your trusty guide to the weird, the wacky, and the wundabar. So what can you expect? Well, how about a kaleidoscope of stories and updates from the ever-expanding universe of speculative fiction, film, comics, and art. I'll bring you the latest news, tantalizing tidbits, and thought-provoking insights of all the properties that float my boat—all wrapped up in a signature quirky style of strangeness. After our News Roundup, expect a Random Bronze Age comic book from my childhood...

  Right. Today we are here for one thing and one thing only: To discuss Hyperion’s huge atomic diaper. When Hyperion first made his appearance way back in Avengers #70 (ok, technically it was the last panel of #69) he was your typical Superman rip-off - super-strong, invulnerable, powers of flight and so-called ‘atomic vision,’ etc. And I couldn’t help but think that writer Roy Thomas and artist Sal Buscema were trying their level best to make him look utterly ridiculous. I mean, they forced Hype to wear a huge metallic diaper. The story of his first appearance was told in a serious tone with the very cosmos hanging in the balance, but here we have this clearly ridiculous fashion choice which boggles the mind. Usually Hyperion is portrayed as wearing tights, but when you display him bare-legged he immediately loses his threatening appearance and  becomes what Rick Jones would have labeled in those days as uncool. I can only posit that this was a slam at DC’s Superman...

 Have you ever been haunted by a memory? Or rather, the  sound  of a memory echoing in your dreams? Well, I have. This might sound odd, but if you're intrigued, read on. I grew up picking comic books off rusty old spinner racks at a Greek-owned corner store while my mom had her hair done at a Salon next door. This is possibly one of the greatest experiences of my life and might never be equaled. How formative were those afternoons, poring for countless hours over Marvel’s Fantastic Four, The Uncanny X-Men, The Avengers, The Hulk, and DC’s Horror titles from the early 1980s? I’m not entirely sure, but I think that flimsy four-color fare indelibly reworked my young mind and taught me much more about friendship, love, ethics, and the larger world than I ever imagined. You might even call it brainwashing by way of the Bronze Age if you're trying to be glib about it.  And boy, those Spinner Racks' contents drew me in, eagerly opening my mind to their influence. The covers...