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[June 18th, 1970] A Case of Déjà Vu (Vision of Tomorrow #10)

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Black & White Photo of writer of piece Kris Vyas-Mall
By Mx Kris Vyas-Myall

As I am writing this, voting in the UK General Election is taking place. However, we will have to wait until tomorrow for the results. As such, I want to address one of the biggest perpetual issues in Britain, the housing crisis.

It has become a kind of a dark joke over the last 50 years. At election time, every party leader will say how much they feel for the plight of the homeless and pledge to end the crisis. Then, as soon as voting is over, they will go back to ignoring the issue. Therefore, I feel, it is worth listing off the endemic problems causing this.

For a start, there is the obvious matter of money and organization. The UK spends a smaller share of GDP than the rest of Western Europe on housing and leaves decisions in the hands of local councils, which have a patchwork of plans. On top of that, housing building largely relies on the private sector who are more interested in high-priced luxury developments than on those for the poorest families.

Colour photo of the Ronan Point tower block, post-disaster where one corner has collapsed with ceilings hanging like loose tiles
Ronan Point, post-disaster

With this combination of political short-terminism, lack of investment and reliance on the private sector, it has led to a lot of poor-quality housing stock. An infamous example was the Ronan Point Disaster, where a gas explosion collapsed the corner of a tower block.

Black and White Advertisements for Homeless Charity Shelter. On the Left is one with a knife. The text reads: Sentenced the day he was born. He was born in a crumbling tenement, grew up in a room his family shared with rats and cockroaches. With no hope of escapee. He lived like a wild animal and was put away when he reacted like one. Over a million people live in conditions that are breeding grounds for delinquency, mental and physical illness, illiteracy, broken marriages. Shelter helps re-house some of the most badly off, and fights to get something going for the others. Our crying need is money. Give to shelter and you help give him a decent chance. The advert on the right has a razor blade. The text says: If Mrs. F. kills herself, it'll be third time lucky. For Mrs. F. death would be a happy release from the stinking hole she and her family live in. Twice she's tried suicide. To escape the stench, the damp, the flying insects, the peeling walls. At least a million people live in conditions that are breeding grounds that spawn mental and physical illness, crime, illiteracy, broken marriages. Shelter helps rescue some of the worst-hit and campaigns vigorously to get something done for the rest. But it's a big job. It takes big money. Please give all you can.
Some of Shelter’s recent advertisements

With this lack of a political solution, it is unsurprising that several groups in the voluntary sector have been trying to fill the gap. The biggest of these is Shelter and, whilst all major parties praise their work, they seem to be getting sick of the situation. They are now withholding funds from local authorities that don’t help the poorest in their communities and running advertisements blaming the current biggest social ills on the housing crisis.

There are also other groups taking more direct action. Running in the election in London is a loose party grouping called “Homes Before Roads”, opposing the plans to try to deal with London’s congestion by building a series of ring roads through current residential districts. In a different way there is also the Squatters’ Movement, who are taking control of empty housing stock and trying to get official recognition for their use by those who cannot afford to go anywhere else.

However, I am not hopeful of even direct action resulting in a solution. Whether Wilson or Heath are Prime Minister next week, I suspect the situation will still be much the same in the mid-70s: homelessness and poor-quality housing are endemic; the political parties say what a scandal this is; make vague promises at a solution; promptly ignore it again.

I am also getting a sense of déjà vu from the latest issue of Vision of Tomorrow, with an expansion of articles on the history of SF and the writers retreading old ground:

Vision of Tomorrow #10

Painted Colour cover for Vision of Tomorrow #10 (July 1970). Cover illustrating Echoes of Armageddon by Lee Harding. It shows the close up of the face of a man of ambiguous ethnicity in an environmental suit looking scared. In front of him are two people in environmental suits running along a path way dodging laser fire from futuristic flying drones. Behind this all is shadowy ruined Earth.
Cover by Stanley Pitt

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Comics

[June 10, 1965] Comics Go James Bond

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By Jason Sacks

Secret agent mania is everywhere these days. After the gilt-edge success of Goldfinger last year, the passion for dashing, daring, handsome men of action has reached a fever pitch. I’ve been picking up paperbacks of Matt Helm, Nick Carter, John LeCarre and even Doc Savage at my local Woolworths, devouring the thrilling adventures of these men of action, ready with a quick shot, a fast woman and a speedy sportscar.

I’ve also been passionately watching The Man from U.N.C.L.E. on NBC. I love so many of the quirks of that show – setting the entrance to UNCLE HQ inside a flower shop, for instance, as well as the dashing agents Solo and Kuryakin and the whole larger-than-life setting of it all.

Comics have had their share of secret agents over recent years, too, from “John Force, Magic Agent” appearing in the back pages of American Comics Group’s Unknown Worlds late last year to the spy adventures of Charlton’s new Sarge Steel (which includes impressive art by an up-and-comer named Dick Giordano – watch that name, folks) to a two issue DC pilot spotlight on spy King Faraday in last year’s Showcase #50 and 51 (albeit reprints from 1950, in the latter case – DC has never been a company known for their innovation).

But no comics company has fully jumped on the spy trend, not in the way it cries out for.

Until, that is, this month’s issue of Strange Tales, starring a super spy named Nick Fury, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.

The great Stan Lee and Jack Kirby deliver one of the most intriguing, exciting, whizzbang first adventures of any comic story in recent memory, full of bizarre gadgets, nasty villains and a dynamic dollop of mighty Marvel action.

As if they felt constrained by their small twelve-page allocation in this issue, Kirby and Lee deliver a story in which everyone seems to be moving at top speed, showing off cool gadgets, discussing nasty spy rings, showing flying cars and flying aircraft carriers and all the other trappings of a great adventure tale. Even in large set-pieces, like the scene above (which looks oddly like a key location in last year’s film Doctor Strangelove), it seems every character has their own bit of business to take care of, their own set of a million tasks to accomplish and no time to complete them. These are busy, important men on the mission to save the Earth, and they will work together with everything they have in order to defeat the evil organization Hydra.

At the center of it all is good ol’ Nick Fury, twenty years removed from leading the Howling Commandos, now promoted from sergeant all the way up to colonel, with an eye patch over his left eye and an everpresent stogie in his mouth. Fury acts as the reader proxy in the story, leading us to discover just what in the world he is getting himself involved with – heck, even as he’s strapped into a bed with wires taped all over his nearly naked body, Fury is wondering “what in blazes is going on?”

What is going on, Col. Fury, is that you’ve been recruited to a super spy agency, the Supreme Headquarters International Espionage Law-enforcement Division by name – ignore that extra “E” please. SHIELD seems constantly under attack – as we discover on page three of this all-out action thriller, in the space of seven seconds, robot versions of Fury are attacked by evil doers – including one who has a gun hidden in a mailbox (I would hate to be the mailman working that route!) We soon witness Fury’s car attacked by a fiery missile before the wheels of the sports car transform into jets which transport our hero to an astounding floating fortress.

And those villains! Hydra seems to be an equal match for SHIELD, with astonishing technology, a vicious hatred for humanity, and – seriously – the greatest motto I can remember at a spy agency (and evil women, too – wonder if Nick Fury can turn Agent H to the good side!

Lee and Kirby have been growing a reputation for unstoppable, hurtling action but this tale takes that energy to a whole new level.

I do want to briefly mention that this story only takes up half the issue, and if “Agent of SHIELD” is an extrovert’s delight, “Doctor Strange” is just as much an introvert’s thrill. Drawn by Kirby’s opposite, Steve Ditko, this issue finds our sorcerer supreme on the hunt for the mysterious meaning of “eternity.” Just check out that gorgeous splash page below and contrast its brooding intensity with the dynamic thrills of the Nick Fury splash. Both are amazing work by men at the top of their talent but they each offer very different visions.

Fury’s world is one of men walking, talking and shooting. The men in that story look around – often to the reader – with a sense of purpose and energy. In Strange’s world, however, men and women look around furtively, live in almost unknowable strange worlds, are communicating secretly. If Nick Fury is like James Bond, Stephen Strange is like a hero from a Philip Dick or John Brunner novel, cursed by his greater knowledge and abilities to fight a lonely war.

Together, these two series provide about as dramatic a contrast in styles as any comic I can remember. What a welcome and unique issue. Strange Tales #135 is a good example of why I'm quickly becoming more and more inclined to Make Mine Marvel! 




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