In the late 1970s a new crop of comic creators crawled out of the comic book landscape, looked around at the ruins of the undergrounds and a moribund Marvel and DC, gazed at the grave of Atlas and the hospital bed of Charlton, and said to themselves, there's nowhere to go but up! And that's how we got innovative new works like Cerebus The Aardvark and Elfquest, and, on the other hand, this comic right here.
It's that thing we all love, the super hero comic made by people that clearly want to work for Marvel or DC and have mastered all the hallmarks of such - the over-rendered muscular super-dude, the Bela Lugosi double-jointed hands of the evil techno-villain, the "premiere isue!!" blurb, and the backup feature nobody will ever read. It is truly their time to shine.
And sometimes the over-rendering gets a little too over-rendered and we wind up with stuff like this. Not sure what's happening down there, but I think it might be a hernia? See your doctor, Cobalt.
With carefully selected captions utilizing precisely chosen descriptions, we're immediately thrown into an exciting story where a guy runs towards a lamp and another guy breaks it and then there's time travel, and somehow this gives us a super hero named after a tube of paint that happened to be in sight when somebody asked "So, what are we going to call this guy?"
Through the magic of comic books we're instantly transported to Washington DC - here represented with stunning accuracy by a blank white void - as our HERO finds his STATUS not TOO different from being an OUTSIDER who CAPITALIZES words AT random. That's your key to great comic book writing, emphasis on the wrong words at ALL times.
I don't want a faint smile, I want this blue-garbed stranger from the future to explain himself, and to start with that Breck Girl hairstyle he's rocking, please
Somewhere in Washington DC a hand reaches for a telephone. Another hand smashes it. A man starts to run. Shots rang out. A door slammed. The maid screamed. Suddenly a pirate ship appeared on the horizon! Meanwhile on a small farm in Kansas a small boy was growing up. End of Part I.
These days "computer honed fighting skills" means being able to trash-talk your opponents while live-streaming Counter Strike, but back in the groovy 70s it meant leaping through the air majestically towards a truck.
Speaking of computer games, the time for GAMES is OVER - and that means Cobalt Blue here bursts into a frenzy of super action, as he politely asks the guards if he can leave.
Take that, pavement! He's TOO much for you!
He's blasted those hapless guards into submission but a new threat is apparently announcing itself over the public address system, like this is Wrestlemania '78 or something.
It's the little sky sleds that really sell this new defense system. That they came out of a DEEP, man-made shaft - that's just a bonus!
Look Cobalt Blue, I know you just got here from the future or whereever, but right now in 1978 there's an oil crisis going on, how about not destroying that fuel tanker? There's a line of Camaros and Pontiac Gran Torinos and Country Squires waiting around the block for that gas!
Thanks Cobalt Blue. There goes Carter's chances at re-election. I hope you and your SUIT are happy.
Here's three panels of what I believe is Cobalt Blue's super zap ski goggles doing their super zap thing again, zapping those little sky sleds and, um, the side of a shed, and I think that's a wall?
I am not really sure how Cobalt Blue's leg is working there in the third panel, but the important part is that he's commandeered one of those little sky sleds, and they really look like they'd be a lot of fun. Finally somebody gets to enjoy something in this comic!
As Cobalt Blue escapes into the sunset we pay a visit to what I can only assume is Matrix Prime Control, who has OBSERVED his flight. Unsure as to how well that flight was observed since Matrix, like everybody else in this story, seems to not have eyeballs. This here is an artist that really doesn't wanna draw eyes.
Somehow I feel drawn to this place, this place called Detroit! Not drawn to actually, you know, DRAW Detroit, though. That's what Xeroxes are for! Oh well, at least it isn't a blank white void like Washington DC.
And now for a little sky surfing around the Motor City, maybe come in for a landing, maybe adjust my face a little because something's slipping somewhere in the ski mask area. Hope there are no robot death killers around!
Spoke too soon, I guess. Anyway, rest assured the adventures of Cobalt Blue will continue - not just in the second 1978 issue, and not in the stories about the Flash character of the same name, but next week in a full color rebooted Cobalt Blue that is pretty much the same thing except being different! See you then!
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