A story about an intrepid time traveller from the future trying to change the course of history and avoid a disaster? Sure, we've seen this before and we have the Harlan Ellison lawsuits to prove it. But wait. What if instead of a movie, it was... a black and white comic book from 1985?

Well, hey, that's different! Not very different, but sure. Fine. Whatever. Call off your dogs, Harlan

And here he is, unshaven, heavily armed, waiting for death to cast its shadow over the city, narrating everything in the first person, in a story with the same title as the Tommy Lee Jones stolen-supercar movie that came out the next year. Maybe there's another lawsuit in the works?

Blackmoon drifts into subconsciousness as the comic's narration jolts back and forth between first and third person points of view and we're asked to believe that an unattractive, pudgy guy in an ill-fitting suit could become a major political candidate. It'll never happen!

He WON'T except this, gentlemen! Not sure what he won't except from what, but he feels very strongly about it.

I can see how some might think replacing the Great Seal of the United States with what appears to be one of the mushroom people from "Matango The Fungus Of Terror" might seem deranged, sure.

In most of these independent 80s comics there's usually a panel where you can clearly see the artist has given himself an artistic challenge that he might actually not be up to. This here is that panel.

Fortunately, the artist won't be having to draw any more large gatherings of people, as they have all been vaporized.

Here's where our hero's life-long obsession with Japan and its no-panty Mah Jongg comics finally paid off. The five foot walls the Japanese research council built into that scientific laboratory deep within Mt. Fuji saved them from the nuclear blast, and of course, those same five foot walls also saved them from being vaporized by the lava that's deep inside Mt. Fuji, which is, after all, a volcano.

I will move those crates the minute you tell me what the hell a "parmater" is, buddy, now let me finish listening to Dreams So Real sing about California falling into the sea (fortunately an extensive collection of music from late-80s Athens GA bands survived the nuclear holocaust).

Helicopters AND an impromptu spaceman dance party? Seems like for these "survivers," the post-apocalypse isn't so bad after all!

"And then the mutants came. I worked 24 hours a day to try and find out how to get these guys into turtle costumes and make fat loads of cash before the fad died down!"

Marvel at the scientific wizardry on display as our main character - who still doesn't have a name yet, mind you - uses every bit of his rigorous intellectual discipline to determine the nature of his temporal displacement by the amazing technique of "looking at a clock."

It was then that I got the idea

of padding out the story by putting sentences in their own panels surrounded by

lots of white space

It sounded crazy but

in every single late night dorm room bull session every single

guy said he'd go back in time and kill Baby Hitler, without

exception, and I can't let those guys

down. I would leave at

Dawn, he's leaving at dawn, because he's time travelling so it's very important he leave "now" at a specific time. But first he's going to get this boil lanced, it looks pretty nasty.

Our guy still has his old uniform from back when he was what appears to be a full contact Jazzercize instructor, who needed radiation-proof clothes for some reason.

Wait a minute, this guy, this Frank Johnson, he is not only a time-travel inventing scientist but he's ALSO a former elite espionage agent with an easily re-purposed code name? What are the odds?

I was going to make a sarcastic comment here about the impossibility of flying across the continent in an attack helicopter, but it turns out the McDonnell Douglas AH-64 Apache can fly 1100 miles without refueling, so this is doable, I guess?

OK. Set your Time Disc for 1970 and get ready to bring your cassette recorder to Max's Kansas City and tape an essential Velvet Underground bootleg. Order me a double Pernod at the bar. THEN you can stop the nuclear war. Did you check to make sure your Time Disc works properly? You did, right?

So you got to 1985 instead which is 15 years before Monroe was elected, which means the atomic war was in 2000 or so, which means you could conceivably meet your younger self for a beer and maybe destroy the universe? I'm not sure how that works.

"I'll tell ya where he is! The Dead Boys broke up and he's playin' with the Stilettos and the Casualties! He'll be at CBGBs on Friday! What? You don't wanna know where Cheetah Chrome is? Then why are you beating up punk rockers? You wanna find a mobster? Go hassle some mobsters!"

(Okay, this is my last annoying music nerd reference. I swear.)

The Richmond Building; four entire stories of faded NYC glory.

Nothing like a piercing siren to make you "relize" it'll be dark soon!

Look, I get it. You're a top secret agent who also perfected time travel, you're an amazing renaissance man. Do you have to claim you invented night vision goggles? Really? Time travel isn't enough?

"Security controlled" is a fancy way of saying "they have to buzz everybody in" which is a thing that, uh, pretty much every building in New York City has? First trip to the big city, Blackmoon?

NYC building codes are very strict about air ducts being large enough to accomodate spies, agents, detectives, Spider-Men, etc. For safety, you know.

time for some elite espionage agent smackin' thugs around. Just knife their sleeve to the wall, they'll be so worried about finding a good tailor to repair their coat that they won't be able to stop you.

Can you really wrap this up with "I don't have time to chat?" We were just shown he had PLENTY of time to chat.

Something is bothering all of us. The gigantic shoulder pads on your raincoat, for one thing.

Turns out Monroe has watched every episode of "Mission Impossible" and was ready with a realistic mask that our top espionage agent would mistake for an actual person, a thing that I honestly find more unbelievable than time travel. I won't worry about it, I'll just let the dark blanket my escape as I slip... on a banana peel? Out the back, Jack? Slippin' slippin' slippin' into the future? Don't leave me hanging, page 23!

Into the night! That's where he was slipping. Well heck buddy, why not go see the Village, the Met, MOMA, take in a show, get a slice of REAL pizza, enjoy the town!

The action EXPLODES next issue! Remember, this issue featured a full scale nuclear war, so who knows how Blackmoon #2 is going to top it? No, seriously, does anybody know? I only have issue #1! If you see it in a dollar bin, let us know. We'll haul out the Time Disc, gas up the helicopter and we'll be on our way!

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