I guess it's been a while since we've seen a Howie Post Atlas classic around here, (how'e does it, I'll never know!) And this cute little hissing blast from the petrifyin' past, aka the November 1954 issue of Journey into Mystery #19, might just be what you antique and curio collectors are lookin' for! And hey, with that explosive twist ending-- nobody even has to go into work today now-- or ever again! The End.
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The ending to this one is off the rails. I'm not even going to ask why someone would make a little porcelain figurine of an A-Bomb let alone find buyers for something like that, but it's pretty damn funny. I love the last panel of the second page when the rabbit comes to life, the shadow behind Joe of the rabbit is awesome. Also I kind of wish Joe did smash the elephant figure. I wanted to see how the neighbors would have reacted to it! 🤣🤣
This one doesn't really play fair, which usually isn't a place where Atlas falls down, but the art is absolutely great.
Will it be everybody's cup of tea? Probably not, but it works really well for this bonkers story about animal souls -- who become flesh and blood animals -- and finally a A-Bomb figurine. The facial expressions -- I love the one on the splash -- are excellent. His fuming on page 2, also excellent, and the 2nd to last panel when he realizes what is about to happen ... excellent again. I love the art in this one!
BTW I have some "orient" giant robot "figures" I guess I need to be careful I don't know them down!
Maybe its just me, but the lead character looks a little like J Edgar Hoover.
On page three, upper left panel, the silhouette of the angry bunny and crossbones made me think of Irontail from 'Here Comes Peter Cottontail'.
Unique tale, interesting art with the great Atlas twist ending.
Somehow, the first panels made me imagine a light comedy type bickering couple, instead of another murder plot.
Maybe that makes no sense in a horror comic, but that's what it felt like.
This was perfect in more ways than I can think of. An absolutely wonderful send up of the miserable hen pecked hubby genre.
I'm trying to imagine how I'd feel if I bought somebody a present and they found it, returned it, and spent the money on a present for me instead. It's like rejection; but also sort of like I'd had to pay for my own present? With no ability to select something I'd even want? How's that for a triple slap in the face?
I guess the takeaway from this story is that atomic bombs have souls? Honestly, I think the story would have worked a little better (and been more plausible) if she'd gotten him a globe.
Howie Post's clever, gnarly wood cut style of drawing really works for me. The whorls and mazes of detail makes everybody's face look like a fingerprint, and every interior look like Frank Lloyd Wright's Mayan Revival stuff. The character designs themselves--beyond the style of depicting them--remind me of Gahan Wilson a little, especially that splash.
Hove there really only ever been two Howie Post stories at THOIA? Madness!
Unless it's some kind of "miniature" bomb, I wonder how many people get vaporized because of Joe and Alice's bad marriage.
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