Mindless Ones

Although we are now into the second post dark-age age of comics, yea verily is it a golden age of pants. As the comments on yesterday’s post have revealed, we as well as our children are living in a four-colour consumerist paradise where superhero pants for young and old alike are available almost anywhere. When I was a child such pantly treasures were impossible to imagine. Whither did this underwear wonderland come?

These next ones are my favourite pants. As you can tell from the fading, they’re the oldest in the set, the ones that really gave me the collector’s bug. These skids must go back to the heady days of, well I don’t know really, about 2005 or so? Makes these pants about three years old, which is about as long as I’m comfortable admitting to having worn the same pants for, I suppose. Is that too precious of me? Do pants last several years, decades even? Can’t be sure. The superhero movies summer blockbuster dreamland that we’re all living in was well established when these beauties were bought for me – without the big market driver there’s no way even the Herald of Galactus would have found his way to the local H&M. I wonder how many millions the first Spiderman movie had to clear before someone in the merchandising office shouted ‘Make some Silver Surfer Pants!!!!’

The Surfer’s a good choice for them to have started with, Unky Stan’s Christ being a suitable sacrificial offering to have announced the Mighty Marvel Era of Pants. Pants (along with silver body paint) are like his whole costume, like the King (with solid Buscema back-up, pictured here) imagined him as some acid-casualty gay-not-gay matinee idol from a technicolor Russ Meyer film, endlessly surfing the arid dunes of the California desert.

Those Silver Adam’s are some amazing knicks, no doubt, but tune in again tomorrow, same pants time, same pants place, for some truly Fantastic chuddies.