The Wee Stan Lee

I hope you’re sitting down because what you’re about to read may come as a shock; I am, and have always been, a colossal nerd.  I expect you read these posts in your head with the voice of Huey from the Fun Lovin’ Criminals, such is the level of effortless cool that exudes from every flourish of punctuation, so the revelation that I look like a half-hearted cosplay of The Riddler may be difficult to accept.  But the unassailable truth is that I’m a thin, lanky, camp approximation of a man who possesses the kind of complexion that you can only achieve after endless summers of wrestling with the curtains in an attempt to stop sunlight shining off the television.  I’m like a vampire but without the benefit of the intense, brooding sexuality.  Yes, my wife is very happy, thank you for asking.

Despite essentially being a pre-punch George McFly, there are certain elements of geek culture whose appeal remains a mystery to me.  I’m probably the only person on the planet who knows a bit of SQL and doesn’t give a monkeys about either Star Wars or Star Trek. Any piece of media with a dragon, flagon or ‘ye olde speak’ takes a monumental amount of effort to win me over (I can just about tolerate Game of Thrones because phrases like ‘The tower is but a dawns break away!’ are normally followed by the offender having their face torn apart).  And I’m not a huge fan of comic book superheroes either; on the occasions that I have given it a bash finding that the medium either assumes that you know nothing and have to be told yet again how Bruce Wayne got his powers after being bitten by a radioactive iron or that you’ve been following absolutely every single development since the invention of the printing press.

My children on the other hand are both big fans of the forces of DC and Marvel; thanks in no small part to the sustained marketing push that’s been coming at them from all angles since the day they were born.  Like that bit in Being John Malkovich, Stan Lee is obviously no longer being satisfied with simply having a cameo in the films and now wants to be the only face future generations will ever see; his friendly mustachioed fizzgog ramming a collection plate at them from all angles like the Big Brother posters from 1984.

Thankfully, they are yet to have all semblance of imagination beaten out of them by ‘brand synergy’, and also enjoy creating their own superheroes, often with unexpectedly brilliant results.  I’ll never forget the day when my daughter, a middle class white girl from suburbia, proudly fired her fist into the air and informed my wife that her alter-ego was a crime fighter called ‘Black Power’.  What followed was a pretty nerve-wracking visit to the park, I can tell you.

Her brother, coming up to four years old, reels off characters at such a rate, that Lego have already been in contact about producing a toy range and a tie in video game.  Some of them are pretty good.  I’m a big fan of ‘Change’; a force for good who can alter his appearance at will; mainly because his name is a pretty forward thinking political statement from an author who still shits himself on occasion.  Others are less well-rounded; ‘Dontdothatboy’ presumably has a superhuman ability to give villains a stern ticking off.  And then there’s the third group whose skills and attributes remain a mystery.  These include ‘Spicyman’, ‘Bee-Ham’ and the enduring enigma that is ‘Foot Punk’.

In any case, a couple of weeks ago I was briefly gripped by madness and thought that it was possible to make the house a bit tidier.  Whilst doing so I stumbled across some hero and villain designs my daughter had made which I detail below.  I do so with the proviso that all future commercial activities arising from these characters remains the sole preserve of Soup Kitchen Comics.  Enjoy.


I’m going to go ahead and make the assumption that Wight Boy is the nemesis of the aforementioned Black Power.  I’m not entirely sure that 2016 is the best time to unleash two characters with such racially charged monikers but she is a child of her time after all.


Who’s this chap with the glint in his eye and the strangely defined knees?  Why, it’s Taiy the Testu, who sounds like he’s fresh off the set of one of the less popular Studio Ghibli films and looks like child’s interpretation of Keith from The Prodigy.  Give us a fist bump Taiy!


Bert doesn’t let being a hideously mutated cat/beetle hybrid get him down and and such is truly an shining example to us all.  Stare into his eyes too long and you may start to hear Barber’s Adagio for Strings.


Quite where my five year old daughter managed to find the inspiration for a rockabilly style, fantastically quiffed hero named Fearis is anyone’s guess, but his proud stance suggests to me that he’s ready to take on any challenge; even on his ‘day off’. HA!


Edd looks like a wrong ‘un to me; I’ve encountered very view disembodied floating green heads that could be described as one of the good guys.  I’m guessing the lines beneath represent the force that keeps him levitated and are not meant to be an Egyptian hieroglyph of a broken vase.


Fuck knows what’s going on here.  And I’m sorry to lower the tone, but I can’t see that protrusion from the chest of T-T Tonsn as anything other than a bloodied penis.


Alex, my man!  Although Alex is totally my bro, don’t go running too quickly into his open arms.  Look carefully and you can see the sign of the beast branded into his chest and the souls of his fallen enemies trapped within his baseball cap.


Check out the swag on Bob, here.  I’m a particular fan of his effortless eighty degree slant.  Combined with his hand signs, it looks like he’s giving mad props to all his bob-tailed bitches back at the burrow.


I’m guessing the ‘Mows’ in Monchoo the Mows is meant to be ‘mouse’.  Not sure what ‘Monchoo’ is meant to be. It reads like Scottish slang for ‘hurry up’.


I did consider leaving Mat out because really he’s just a perfectly acceptable child’s drawing of a cat.  But then there’s something about him that makes me imagine a feline with a human mouth which is just too wonderful an image to pass up.


Now we’re talking.  Gaze upon the face of sheer determination that is Ningu Niclu.  Ningu doesn’t dick about by doing kicks and punches independently from each other.  And Ningu is PISSED.  Watch out forces of evil, ‘coz you’re about to get a nickling.


At the danger of reading too much into these drawings, I can’t help but notice that Soafey has a backwards two on her front but that her reflection is facing the same way.  Is she trapped inside the mirror?  Or is she the mirror image herself?  Is she a master of reality, able to bend and manipulate perception to her will?   Also; huuuuuge great big smiley face on her vagina.


Possessing a truly awesome haircut, Rain Rokstar wields her mighty harp and flying battle fortress which she handily disguises as a stage.  Despite having a name that sounds like an act that came eighth on The Voice, Rain also looks like one of spirits from the recent spate of Japanese ‘idol’ games; a reference that will mean absolutely nothing to all but three of you.  Really pleased I managed to work that one in.


Gov, seen here setting loose one of the walkers from War of the Worlds, is actually a hardened east end gangster disguised as a three year old boy.  Don’t be taken in by his chirpy, chimney sweep exterior or you’ll get a right knifing you toilet.  Guy Ritchie has been in contact about using the character in his next film.  We’re all very excited.


What at first glance appears to be little more than a child playing with his favourite toy, look beyond your preconceptions and you’ll find you’ve got Ben and his Boll the wrong way round.  The angry face on the ball,  the vacant look and outstretched arms of the larger character; surely the sphere is the master in this situation.  The 26 burned into the man’s chest suggest that he is not the first that has fallen into this trap.  Makes you think.


Thankfully my wife is a body confident goddess who is forever challenging established beauty standards with her effortless style and intense eroticism  otherwise she might feel a little offended at being drawn as a giant egg.  In this picture I think she looks like one of those huge inflatable clown toys you used to get with a weight at the bottom so they couldn’t fall over.  Yes, I’ve already told you, my wife is very happy, why do you keep asking me that?


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