Showing posts with label Roy Thomas. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roy Thomas. Show all posts

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

F-F-FROGS!

We were watching the 1972 drive-in film classic, FROGS the other night (click the title for a trailer), and about halfway through I remembered this silly send-up of it in the January 1973 issue of SPOOF #3. Lots of laugh out loud moments and highlighted with a Severin, Schwartzberg, and Trimpe three-way of awesome art --rivaling even the best era of MAD Magazine. This is one of the better examples of swampy 70's Silver Age Marvel madcappery, do enjoy! *ribbit!

Wednesday, September 2, 2020

Tales from the Creep

I thought we'd kick off September 2020 here at THOIA (and over at AEET too) with some light hearted laughs, and all totally at horror's hilarious expense. So if you're a fan of EC comics, and more precisely, the awesome 70's Amicus film classic of the same name, then you've come to the right place, as Marv Wolfman, Roy Thomas, John Costanza, and Marie Severin split your funny bones right down the middle with 8 pages of f-f-f-funny fright. From the Nov. '72 issue of Spoof #2.

















Need more silly, 70's anthology satire? Then head over to AEET by CLICKING HERE to see what the mad minds at Marvel did to Rod Serling's Night G-g-g-gallery! AIEEEEE!!!

Tuesday, October 1, 2019

The Shambler from the Stars!

Time to get October rollin' around here, and to kick the month off proper, we could maybe use a little something different than the usual, preferably something from a true master story teller. Robert Bloch is certainly one of the very scary best, and with some help from Ron Goulart, Jim Starlin, Tom PalmerRoy Thomas, (and of course H. P. Lovecraft) how about a flash forward, Silver Age screamer from the February 1972 freak-out issue of Journey into Mystery #3.

















And after you read todays terrifying tale, CLICK HERE to immediately head over to my other blog to see what else I've conjured up from the evil pits of demonical darkness--

Monday, February 22, 2010

The Altar of the Damned!

Now that you've read Stan Lee and Bill Everett's classic "Zombie!" (see our last post HERE) aren't you just a wee bit curious to know how Simon Garth became one of the living dead? Well look no further, because the 1973 World Screamiere issue of Tales of the Zombie #1 delivered just that-- and some bare female flesh too (is anyone still complaining about Donna Garth's make-over from her Golden Age appearence into a mod blonde bombshell?!)














NEXT: More Simon Garth-- and daughter Donna too!


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Vintage ADS

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

The Monster from the Mound!

I’ve set aside the Horrific series fest for another day or two and by popular demand adjusted the coordinates of the THOIA Time Machine for the January 1973 issue of Chamber of Chills #2, where we find yet another great Robert E. Howard horror classic adapted by Roy Thomas for Marvel Comics, with art by Frank Brunner.











TOMORROW: More Robert E. Howard Horror!
More Frank Brunner too!

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Originally published in the May 1932 issue of Weird Tales as “The Horror from the Mound” this odd vampire western hybrid was actually one of the first REH tales I ever read… and when I did, it literally made my skin crawl! The vampire creature seems much more terrifying in the original than Brunner's more human-ish visualization for Marvel, here is an excerpt:
“At the window a face glared and gibbered soundlessly at him. Two icy eyes pierced his very soul. A shriek burst from his throat and the ghastly visage vanished. But the very air was permeated by the foul scent that had hung about the ancient mound. And now the door creaked—bent slowly inward. Brill backed up against the wall, his gun shaking in his hand. It did not occur to him to fire through the door; in his chaotic brain he had but one thought—that only that thin portal of wood separated him from some horror born out of the womb of night and gloom and the black past. His eyes were distended as he saw the door give, as he heard the staples of the bolt groan. The door burst inward. Brill did not scream. His tongue was frozen to the roof of his mouth. His fear-glazed eyes took in the tall, vulture-like form—the icy eyes, the long black finger nails—the moldering garb, hideously ancient…”