In the current Star Wars: Agent of the Empire comic book miniseries Iron Eclipse, the Imperial agent Jahan Cross (no relation) has a droid sidekick named IN-GA 44. “Inga” is a human replica droid, designed to be an infiltration unit along the lines of Terminators or Replicants. Their metal bodies get covered with fake flesh, and go on their merry way.

However, Jahan very specifically chose not to have the usual synthetic skin covering applied to Inga, as he wants his “droids to look like droids.” Well, there’s a few problems with Inga being a human replica droid, and most of them are just more of the ridiculous and laughable sexism still running rampant in comics.

Is she looking for robot porn?

First things first: the antennae on her ears. How would you mold flesh around that, as you would if Inga was completed? Perhaps those were added on later at Jahan’s request, but they still stand out. (In the real world, they were probably placed there to add details to her otherwise simplistic head.)

Next is the beauty mark and molded lips. Inga clearly does not have a nose; that makes sense, as that would be made of flesh. So why is there a specific beauty mark and full metal lips on a metal face? In a human replica droid’s completed form, you wouldn’t see them. They’re only there to make her look “sexy,” which is damned creepy on a robot.

Buckle up, it gets weirder.

Here’s the big standout — or rather, the two big standouts: Inga’s metal boobs. Last time I checked, boobs were made of flesh (or at least flesh covering jiggly silicone). For a droid designed to be indistinguishable from a human, how would a rock-solid rack help her fit in? (Especially when some lecherous scumbag attempts to cop a feel, which always happens in adventure stories.)

Last but not least…Inga has high heels.

What’s next, a pole?

Those aren’t boots or other footwear, mind you; those stiletto heels are part of her actual frame, which means that she also doesn’t have any toes. Jahan specifically said that he wanted Inga to look like a droid, which means that she came this way from her builder. Now, even though it seems that Inga was a custom job, the fact remains that she was specifically designed to infiltrate human society. Try to imagine the absolutely freakish creature that would result if they covered her in synthetic flesh! No way in hell could that blend in. Not only that, high heels aren’t exactly combat-friendly. Superheroines often wear them because they’re supposed to look sexy. That ain’t right on a robot.

I don’t know if Inga’s stripper-bot look was artistic license on behalf of penciler Stéphane Roux, or if Inga was specifically described this way by writer John Ostrander. Either way, it’s a shame; Roux’s art stands well enough on its own, and Ostrander should know better than to resort to such sexist nonsense.

Or, even worse, the creators thought that readers couldn’t possibly understand that Inga has a female personality unless they specifically designed her visual appearance around stereotypes. “Dammit, if she doesn’t have titanium tits, birthin’ hips and six-inch heels, fanboys won’t know what to think!”

It’s a shame, because other than her looks, Inga is a pretty cool character. Her espionage skills have proven most valuable to Jahan, she can hold her own in battle, and she’s likely a tribute to Maria, the robot from the classic silent film Metropolis. That’s always great to see. But given Inga’s fanboy-pandering design, I can’t help but shake my head and laugh.

(And shudder in horror at people who get off on a goddamned robot.)

I’m really getting tired of the “worst thing ever” consciousness that’s pervaded pop culture in recent years, where the thing in question could be a movie, album, book, video game, comic book story, et cetera.

I’m not talking about that dumb Comic Book Guy meme. That would be “Worst. Episode. Ever.”, which is completely separate yet still annoying. I mean the tendency of everday Internet dwellers and professional critics alike to dub something as the worst ever, when it is clearly not. (Sure, it’s possible for something recent to be the worst ever, but I’ve rarely if ever seen this.)

Further inflaming things is that they’ll label something the worst ever…until the following year, when something else becomes the worst ever. Wash, rinse, repeat. That clearly means that the preceding items weren’t nearly so bad, now were they?

For example, take this summer’s superhero film Green Lantern. It wasn’t great, but I’ve heard more than one critic dismissing it as “the worst comic book movie ever.”

Are you kidding me? Have these fools never seen schlock like Superman IV: The Quest for Peace or Batman & Robin? Even non-comic book fans could likely name five to ten superhero flicks off the top of their heads that make Green Lantern look like Citizen Kane.

This whole “worst ever” practice is blatant ignorance of and disregard for history. I understand that more often than not it’s either a) just the usual mindless bullshit from the average Internet troll, or b) a shameless ploy to pull in more page hits by making an inflammatory statement. In that case, I hereby declare this entry to be the worst blog post ever.

…until next year’s worst blog post ever.

Last year, I grumbled about the untimely demise of the Ultraverse. Now let’s talk about another group of early 1990s comic book upstarts who hit the big leagues, only to later be demolished by a corporate buyout.

(Yeah, this post’s title was the best pun I could come up with. Bite me.)

My Valiant experience started with their Nintendo Comics System books around 1990. Yeah, they were pretty bad, but try to remember: this was a time when anything Nintendo was white-hot shit. Video game adaptations were one thing, but things got much more interesting when Valiant launched its superhero universe in late 1991.

I only got to read the Valiant superhero line in short bursts here and there, since my comic book budget was extremely limited. Since I had friends who read the books, I usually borrowed their copies. (The ones I did own were lost in the Great Comic Book Purge of 1996, but that’s what I get for being an idiot.) Harbinger, Rai, Bloodshot, Solar, Ninjak, and X-O Manowar were my favorites, and the characters within really stood out for me because they seemed so realistic and human. (Superpowers nonwithstanding, of course.) The other thing I really liked about those early Valiant superhero books? They were all grounded in hard science fiction. That’s extremely rare in comics, but Valiant handled it with aplomb.

Of course, good comics like this couldn’t last. Video game publisher Acclaim Entertainment bought Valiant Comics in 1994 for a princely sum. No big deal, right? Buyouts happen all of the time. Well, Acclaim decided that it would be best to alter the Valiant characters and their universe to make them more suitable for video games.

That’s when I got really pissed off.

I’m all for bringing comic book characters into other media, be it movies, television shows, games, et cetera. More often than not, it turns out like shit, but such is life. Besides, when that happens, you still have the original source material to fall back on. Sometimes material from popular adaptations finds their way into the comics, but it’s usually limited to a costume change or minor history here and there. Nothing drastic, and with the exception of perhaps Harley Quinn, it’s nothing permanent. Not so with what Acclaim had done to the Valiant universe; everything was handled in reverse, and that’s just irresponsible and unforgivable. God damn it, you just adapt the original stuff, you don’t change it!

Acclaim eventually cancelled their comic book line and focused solely on using their characters in video games, with mixed results. (The Shadowman games were good, but Iron Man/X-O Manowar in Heavy Metal was not.) After a while, though, the company started circling the drain, and Acclaim folded in 2005. Poetic justice, perhaps?

Comic book readers really got the short end of the stick. Aside from the annoyance of having characters and histories radically altered, the eventual cancellation of the comic line was just depressing.

There’s a lot of Valiant stuff I never got to read. I’ve since heard that Archer & Armstrong was the shit, but I don’t think I ever came across a single issue during its prime. The Second Life of Dr. Mirage? Armorines? Geomancer? H.A.R.D. Corps? I didn’t get to read those either, though it’s not for lack of want. I’ve found a few old trade paperbacks of the more popular properties on the cheap, but they contain only a tiny fraction of Valiant’s vast universe. However, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

Unlike the Ultraverse, Valiant Comics actually is making a return. A new company called Valiant Entertainment formed a few years back, and acquired the rights to all of those classic characters. They’ve announced plans to begin publishing monthly comics again in 2012, and old Valiant creators may be coming back, too. Characters like Solar and Magnus won’t be among the new line (as they are now published by Dark Horse Comics), but c’mon, what fan of ’90s comics isn’t pumped to see Bloodshot and friends back in action again?

More importantly, reprints of the classic material are confirmed. That stuff’s hard to come by sometimes, and not always inexpensive. I’m sure we’ll get hardcovers and trade paperbacks, but some Showcase Presents or Essential-style collections would be most welcome.

Keep your fingers crossed, people, that Valiant’s return will be a grand one. (And if any video game publishers are interested…back off.)

(This post was co-written by Tom Martin, who also provided the character artwork.)

Breakfast at Timpani’s was not the only comic strip I was involved with. If those superheroes weren’t ridiculous enough for you, then get a load of this.

Back in 1992, I was taking French language classes in high school. Like any other student throughout the history of the universe, I doodled in the margins of my notebook when I was bored. My friend and classmate Tom Martin did the same, but his often evolved into full-blown comic strips. He had already begun a series of scratch comics entitled Straw Guy, based around a rather normal individual who becomes the victim of a nuclear reaction and becomes small enough to fit inside a large drinking glass. Straw Guy’s mission was to save the world from impending evil and mayhem.

Maybe six or seven issues into Straw Guy came the time when we were studying food in French. In the next issue of Straw Guy, Tom introduced the character known as Ail Man.

Yes, he’s a sentient clove of garlic. (In case you hadn’t guessed, ail is the French word for “garlic.”) He proved to be quite an asset to Straw Guy, so Tom used him in the next couple of issues. Eventually, like all good heroes, Ail Man was proved worthy of his own series of scratch comics. And thus, the Ail Man solo series was born. (Or grown. Whatever you want.)

Tom brought me on board with the project, and the real insanity began. Tom drew most of the comics, while I mainly contributed preposterous story ideas, created some new characters, and illustrated a few splash pages here and there. We usually went out of our way to draw the Ail Man comics as crude and simplistic as possible. Since we were rendering this stuff while we were supposed to be paying attention in class, there was none of the usual sketching, penciling, or inking process; ballpoint pen alone was the tool of choice. Most of the strips were only a few panels long, or still just doodles in the margins. There were a few Ail Man installments that filled an entire notebook page, however.

Here’s a rundown of the main characters, many of whom continued the tradition of horribly mispronounced French words.

	Ail Man, an anthropomorphic clove of garlic. His limbs look like twisted branches or roots. Ail Man’s true origin is unknown.
	Combat Boot Guy, Ail Man’s favorite comic book character. He never appeared with the rest of the cast, as he strictly remained a fictional character within Ail Man’s world.
	Yaourt Man, a former military commander and world traveler. He’s now Ail Man’s landlord. (Yaourt is French for “yogurt.”)
	Straw Guy, Ail Man’s original ally and best friend. Best known as a computer hacker and fledgling superhero.

Like any other good-natured protagonist, Ail Man had his share of miscreants to clash with.

	Mephisto, evil incarnate…in the form of a small fish. He gives orders to That Guy directly from his fishbowl.
	That Guy, Ail Man’s archnemesis. He appears as a stereotypically Satanic figure, but is not actually a demon. His costume creates a thick mist which constantly envelopes his entire body; often, only his head and hands are visible. That Guy can hover, as well as teleport from location to location, often accompanied by a burst of flame (usually indicated by a thundering “FOOM!”). He serves Mephisto, and has an overinflated ego. That Guy often announces his presence with an unnecessary shout of “It is I!”
	Homme de Garlic, an evil form of Ail Man when he’s possessed by That Guy’s demonic familiars. He sports a goatee on principle.

Other than just characters, we fleshed out a few other concepts for use within the Ail Man universe.

• Place de Yaourt, an apartment complex that leads to a secret underground fortress. The Place is home to Yaourt Man, Ail Man, and Straw Guy.

• E-Ville, the hidden dimension from which Mephisto and That Guy hatch their schemes.
• Manger les yeux, a dark spell that has unpredictable results when spoken aloud. (It translates to “eat the eyes.”)
• Voulions – Alien invaders from the Zeta Reticuli system driven by a desire to conquer. They looked like the stereotypical Greys, of course. Voulions is the first-person plural imperfect indicative of the verb vouloir, “to want.” e.g., nous voulions, “we wanted.” (And what the Voulions wanted was Earth!)
• V.E.R.I.F.I.O.N.S. – Armor system created by Yaourt Man in order to fight the Voulions. Unlocked by using a spoon-shaped key. I don’t remember what the acronym stood for. Verifions is the first-person plural present indicative of the verb vérifier, “to verify.” e.g., nous verifions, “we verified.” (“All systems are go!”)

No, we weren’t smoking any wacky weedus. (But perhaps it would’ve helped.) The Ail Man comics appeared rather regularly for over two years. Once our senior year in high school came along, new adventures were harder to produce. College was next, and it was determined that Ail Man must not die; but efforts to continue the series and idea were placed on the back burner. Tom and I were attending schools in different states, so outside of summer and winter breaks, it was very difficult to collaborate.

Still, Ail Man still showed up from time to time. If I remember correctly, I drew a picture in college depicting Ail Man as a “real” comic book character, complete with a clove-shaped head, musclebound humanoid body, and bristling with weapons. (I wish I knew what happened to that drawing.) Later on, Ail Man even made a pair of cameo appearances in Breakfast at Timpani’s.

Yes, they were crudely drawn and unbelievably silly, but the Ail Man comics were still great fun to produce. The point was not to make fine art. The point was to be ridiculous and provide a distraction from the boredom and annoyances of high school.

Despite all of this nonsense, somehow our French teacher gave us a passing grade.

Will Ail Man ever make a return to comics? As entertaining as it might be, the odds are extremely unlikely, since it might end up getting us sued.

Wait, what?! Well, take a look at Boy Bawang.

He’s the mascot for a Filipino brand of flavored corn nuts, and his name is Tagalog for “Garlic Boy.” I saw a bag of the snacks at the local Asian supermarket last week, and I was floored. He looks just like a younger version of Ail Man! (Quite literally, if you go by their names.) KSK Food Products debuted Boy Bawang in 2003, and the marketing campaign has apparently been quite successful.

Obviously Ail Man predates this by at least a decade, but it’s not like we can claim royalties or anything. It’s nothing but a simple coincidence. However, any hope of Ail Man making a glorious return is dashed by Boy Bawang’s existence, as KSK Food Products would almost certainly take us to court. I seriously doubt that the two of us could hold off a lawsuit from a major corporation.

At least a garlic-themed hero is still around in some form…

Don’t forget to read parts one, two, and three of this series first!

Breakfast at Timpani’s did indeed fall apart by December 2003, and this post will reveal the reasons why. No, John and I did not have some horrendous falling out.

Short answer: real life concerns took precedence.

Now for the long answer.

For starters, John was a very busy man at his office, working with countless charities. He was also pursuing further education by attending divinity school. This was not some kind of religious Hogwarts, though I sure as hell tried to convince myself that it was, because that sounds awesome!

Comic scripts fell by the wayside, as well they should have; I’ve always been a proponent of the fact that no matter how much fun your hobby may be, real life always comes first. (One of my catchphrases is “There’s more to life than comics.”) I actually would’ve been upset if John was spending his time scripting at the cost of his coursework.

Meanwhile, I was having troubles of my own. I had more than one person tell me that the comic sucked, often using less polite words than that. One quote that really stood out was “Where’s the hilarity?” Ouch. I’m not saying that Breakfast at Timpani’s was comedy gold, but jeez, a good chunk of it was at least chuckle-worthy.

Snide comments about the art made their way to my ears, as well. This only added insult to injury, as even though I’d been illustrating the strip for years, I felt that my art was getting worse rather than improving. Since it was a comic strip, I was able to oversimplify things like hands and feet (drawing those were always extremely difficult for me), especially at a distance, but it didn’t help. This had always been an endless source of frustration for me, and now it was really gaining steam.

I received a serious blow to my confidence in 2002. I had applied to graduate school in order to pursue a master’s degree in graphic design…but I was rejected. Why? Because my portfolio and artwork “was not of a professional caliber.” The school even had the gall to suggest that I go through their undergraduate graphic design program first. I must point out that this school was part of the same university system as the one where I had earned my bachelor’s degree…with the same credits! This did unbelievable damage to my confidence and artistic abilities, and I don’t think I ever recovered from it.

Finally, I was going through some personal issues at the time, which I will not detail here. Everything added up to a perfect storm, so John and I decided to just let Breakfast at Timpani’s die a quick death. The final strip was posted on December 31, 2003, sadly breaking things off right in the middle of a story arc. We probably should’ve ended the story we were working on first, but we felt it was better to just kill it off rather than risk an incredibly delayed shitty ending. Lesson learned!

For the next few years, I left Breakfast at Timpani’s on my site for archival purposes. It got deleted a few years ago when I did some upgrades and such, but since I’ve got all of the files backed up elsewhere, it’s no big loss.

In the end, over a hundred strips were produced, plus fake advertisements, holiday special splash images, and parody posters. I had a few other Breakfast at Timpani’s projects in the pipeline at the time of the series’ demise, like parodies of classic comic book covers like The Uncanny X-Men #141 and Tales of Suspense #48. I’ve still got the rough layouts of those; maybe I’ll finish them someday. Perhaps I could use them as a cover for the PDF collection?

It only lasted just under three years, but Breakfast at Timpani’s was one hell of a trip. While writing this retrospective I reread every single strip in order, and it brought back memories, believe me. Sure, some scripts and artwork didn’t quite pan out the way we wanted, and some of my contributions in particular were rather weak, but I’m still pleased with the comic as a whole. In fact, it’s one of the few creative endeavors I was involved in that I can look back on without a heaping helping of regret.

Will Breakfast at Timpani’s ever return? I doubt it, but never say never…