Moon Head, or How Not to Write Comic Books
A few years back, I decided to create a series of heroes and villains and write some sort of cheesy comic book featuring them. The heroes would be flawed of course. And the villains would have quirky powers of destruction. All of the characters, in fact, would have bizarre powers that seemed rather dubious when put into action. I found this relic from that (wisely) abandoned project.
Ah Moonhead. What a hero. On the left are his “powers,” including striped bellbottoms, the ability to dance well, and a monocle. Given his asymmetrical face, conventional eyewear was clearly not an option. I guess the razor-sharp hand constitutes an effective weapon.
Somehow I reversed the debit side and credit side on my hero ledger, even though I was briefly an accounting major at what at the time was the number one university in the country for that major. Luckily I changed my major and dropped intermediate accounting.
Incorrect recording aside, the column listing my hero’s weaknesses is more interesting. Most of his head is missing, since his archenemy Canonpants rendered him a waning crescent. Always the fashionista, Moonhead has put style ahead of comfort as well as common sense by wearing a massive, sharp belt buckle capable of eviscerating or castrating our hero should he ever attempt to sit down. As if that’s not bad enough, his own weapon is a liability. He must leave his highball and cigarette behind whenever he needs to relieve himself. Of course he could let his smoke dangle from his lips and hold his highball after unzipping.
I guess the lesson is, even your best traits can be your own undoing. Shakespearian motif or tired cliché? Either way, it’s a good thing Moonhead never saw the light of day. But what ever happened to Canonpants anyway?
