Why isn't the earth aflame?

Today marks my 40th of your "Earth years," and I'm pretty hyped about it. A big, meaty meal and The Wolfman are on the horizon, and the coming year (and years following that) promise to be full of Adventure and Interesting Things. I know middle-age is supposed to be some sort of soul-crushing mill stone rather than milestone, but I'm excited about the promise the Big 4-Oh will bring.

It's also possible I've finally snapped.

Either way, I'm glad I was around and more or less paying attention when the intoxicating scent of the Silver/Bronze Age gumbo was a-bubblin', because, brother, if that doesn't make you a comic book fan, nothing will.

I mean, check out what was on the stands in 1970:

Young Love!

All-Star Western!

Mutha-f'n Conan the Barbarian!

Astonishing Tales!

And of course, probably a personal favorite also debuted that year — witness the birth of:

Jack Kirby's Fourth World!

You know what that means? That's right; me and this guy are the same age:



Truly, the voice of a generation.