I don't know how I feel about the ol' super-shout. On the one hand, it'd be nice to know what Superboy was up to at any one time but on the other: burst eardrums. I don't know. I kind of figured that after Brainiac 5 got finished with creating those y'know, rings, the ones that let you fly, he might have devoted a half hour or so to banging together one or two walkie-talkies. I mean, I know that Silver Age Superboy had to use all of his powers as frequently as possible while talking about what he was doing or he'd lose them, but couldn't he think of the children, and also the old people and the pets and everyone else?

I like that Superboy can't just say "Great guns!" or something. He's too large for that - he needs to swear by something really, really big. It's all "Great galaxies!" or "By the rings of Saturn!" or even "Great Krypton!", which always gives me a chuckle. I hope swearing by places you were born or used to live comes into vogue soon, so I can shout "Great Windsor!" or "Holy Halifax!" or even "By the temperate climate and great dining opportunities of Victoria!" when I get surprised by seeing some of my pals taking a nap.

Adventure Comics No. 337, REVIEW DEFERRED, still.

Action Comics No. 860 is out this (wait.. last) week. There's not much new to say about the Legion of Super-Rejects (though I was surprised to see that it wasn't just a trick of perspective - Golden Boy's pants really are that high-waisted) but I'm pleased to report that my dream of a comic in which Shadow Lass and Night Girl are working as the most obvious team ever has finally come to pass, and it only took thirty or forty years!

JOHN APPROVED

Shooter coming back to the Legion? Ask me in a few more issues.

Ugh. I suck. I kept all the children on tenterhooks for two, maybe three weeks. Sorry, children. I am filled with deep shame. Worry not, however - I hereby vow that I will finish writing about this gol-danged story before the year 2967 actually comes to pass. There: my conscience is once again clear.

Okay, so since the former Giant Giant Post format that I was using has been discredited like Soviet-era Communism (and because it was driving Paul Review crazy) I'll be delivering up the remainder of this story in easily-digested chunks. So... chew on this:

I've become even more taken with the fact that the alien spies believed that they had disguised themselves as beings from three different planets. What does this say about the future? Exactly how far can I run with the idea? Huh?

Pretty far, as it turns out. Blackout Boy, the green-clad gentleman in the centre, for example, proudly wears the planetary uniform of the Violently Clashing People of the Hot Pink Planet Eeugh. Settled by rogue fashion designers in the mid-25th Century, Eeugh's people deliberately choose a new universal style of clothing every five years, each created expressly to offend the eye when viewed against the already hard-to-look-at landscapes of their adoptive planet. The blackout power showcased in this story was evolved in order to give the Eeughians' eyes a much-needed rest.

Eeugh? JOHN APPROVED

Size Lad, here, is posing as an inhabitant of Scherer VXI, the Obsessive Rock Hudson Fan's Planet, inhabitants of which are recognizable for their hair, which is universally coloured and styled to resemble that of their idol. Further cosmetic alterations are earned by Scherernites by participating in grueling physical and mental challenges. As each citizen comes to resemble Hudson more and more they are entitled to wear a series of colour-coded uniforms that reflect their social status, starting at white for those with Hudson-hair and nothing else and progressing through the spectrum to an awe-inspiring luminescent black worn by the planet's leader, Rock Hudson.

JOHN APPROVED

Magnetic Kid - far right, first panel - isn't actually wearing a horrid purple jumpsuit. Rather, he is one of the Purple Torso People of the jungle planet Smee. The Torso people evolved in the jungles of Smee as relentless predators, drawing prey to them with their magnetic powers and then devouring them with their fearsome abdomouths. Eventually, the Torso People formed an advanced society and joined the United Planets, but found that the humans that they so resembled had difficulty in communicating comfortably with what to them resembled headless bodies, even if they knew that the white spots on the shoulders were eyes. Faced with the possibility of being cosmic outcasts, the Smeevians engaged the services of the renowned Coluan cyberneticist Sqak Vaq, who swiftly designed a robotic head capable of interfacing with the nerves and muscles of the Smeevian shoulder area and translating torso-based facial expressions into something that a human could appreciate. Of course, since Coluans and Torso People both consider all humans to look alike, the entire Smeevian race wears identical blonde cyberheads.