High-Tech Tomorrow: Review of The Concentrator, the Exciting Conclusion, by Johnathan

Oof. I meant to write this senses-shattering finale to the sizzling, stunning, uh, saturnine review of the Concentrator earlier this week, but ran up against a couple of stumbling blocks: firstly, I’ve been pretty danged busy at work, so those occasional slow half-hours that were good for a paragraph or two about Saturn Girl’s costume have gone the way of the dodo. Secondly, my evenings have been taken up with Hallowe’en preparation – super-hero boots require a fair amount of sewing, it turns out. If I ever develop fantastic powers you can bet that my costume is going to be off-the-rack. (I wrote this before the previous post, but am too lazy to edit out the redundant information. Instead, I use up more of your neurons with useless info! Ho ho ho! A similar principle applies to the slight overlap between this and Part 3 of the Concentrator saga)

 Home stretch!

 We find the Legion relaxing after a hard day’s being tortured. Tensions, it turns out, are high:



Actually, they probably aren’t. The Sixties Legion, as I’ve mentioned before, weren’t exactly paragons of camaraderie and trust. I’ll bet that if Chameleon Boy lost his wallet and Phantom Girl was walking up to him to give it back he’d have punched her out and had her up in front of the Legion Supreme Court before she could get two words out, though admittedly it might have been a ruse to expose Universo’s crooked law practice or something like that.


“Hey, how does Superboy know that it’s a trick? I’ll bet that he planned all this with the Chief! Get him, everyone – use the kryptonite stilettos!”


Oh, poo, he referenced one of basically three or four panels in this story that I haven’t posted here. In brief, Chameleon Boy was frozen or something, but his hand was still free and he shapeshifted it into something and got away. So, you know, there’s no way that Lightning Lad could ever escape as Chameleon Boy did, if the Chief means “in a similar way” when he says “as”. Fear my pedantry, Science Police Chief! It transcends time, space and relative states of fictitiousness to blast you with the full might of my withering scorn! Your wife shall sleep alone tonight, whilst you cower behind a wall composed of your crystallized tears!



I really wish that this comic had some sort of audio component. I want to hear the voice that does this to people who routinely fight electrically-charged giants with exposed brains and jaundiced Eddie Munsters and so forth. Is it super-menacing, or is it the repetition that breaks the spirit? Is the Legion’s greatest weakness its collective low boredom threshold? 


The Concentrator sounds kind of… lame. Not that I wouldn’t want to have one in my apartment, mind you – I assume that it can concentrate matter into a decent batch of chicken wings – but I can’t really see it as life-imprisonment-worthy. I mean, wouldn’t you have to know how to make a weapon in the first place to make it in the Concentrator? So... doesn’t that really just make it a faster way to get things? Not so good in the hands of a villain, I know, but I can think of half a dozen DC baddies who can do stuff like that without even trying hard. Pre-computer nerd Calculator, for instance, or the entire Sinestro Corps, even that one guy who's a hermit crab.

 The smart thing to do would be to wait until the Chief opened the door and then *WHAMMO!* Lightning to the breadbasket! I mean, the idea is that the Chief is treating them as if he were a super-villain trying to pry info out of their wee brains, so why not respond accordingly?


When she said that, it hurt Chameleon Boy’s feelings.
I can’t say it enough: disproportionate punishment. Also: isn’t there a huge abandoned fortress just going to waste on that planet? Why have the Legion locked poor Lightning Lad in a cage smaller than most bathroom stalls?* I’m pretty sure that I’d go nuts with a great quickness if I were placed in a similar situation, no matter how good the books were.

 *Speaking of bathrooms, where are the facilities in that thing? Is he sitting on the toilet whilst they scold him?


So, the Police Chief (or is he a Commissioner? It's been so long since I read the beginning of this story...), having tortured a teenager into revealing information that he and his friends said was important, orders that same teenager locked in a tiny cage on a deserted planet for the rest of his life. Satisfied after a good honest day's work, he leaves for home.
Damn, it is the Commissioner. How long have I been calling him Chief? No matter, I'll retcon it later on. 
Man, this is a good issue for facial expressions - check out the look of desperation on Lightning Lad. Good job, John Forte.
So, could it be true? Could the man who I have known and referred to as the Commissioner for lo, these many years be some sort of traitorous impostor?
Yes, it turns out. There's the real Commissioner, looking surprisingly comfortable for someone who has spent the last few days tied up in or next to a time bubble. In fact, being kidnapped and impersonated seems to have... mildly irritated him, at the most. I am now concocting a theory about the Commissioner being a worlds-weary, tough-as-nails Slam Bradley of the future, and that if the Legion hadn't caught on to the fake Commissioner's scheme then the real one would have shortly cut his space-ropes on a space-nail and administered a flurry of fistic fury on the felonious face-filcher. And also, his descriptive text is full of alliteration.
But the Legion is watching, and it turns out that the impostor is the *yawn* Time Trapper. 
Actually, this is one of the *y*TT appearances that I'm okay with - it's not really until the Seventies that the Trapper jumps the shark, or interferes with history to cause the shark to become extinct and more swiftly bring about the victory of entropy over Creation, or whatever. Plus, this panel has given me a whole new theory of who the Trapper is. Check out how he has that rubber mask crammed down over his cowl: the Time Trapper is really Batman!

Just what are you going to make, Time Trapper? Does that pistol do anything better than letting you travel through time and preventing others from doing the same? Or does it make a rubber mask realistic enough that it can be worn over a hood and still fool, like, twenty people for a couple of days? Or...

... does it possess the capability to fling what I think are possibly neutron stars around? Man, what more do you need? Dr Doom would quite literally kill for something like that! Does the pistol shoot little stars, so you can use this power on individuals instead of whole planets? Because regular guns work okay for stuff like that. Greedy, greedy boring villain.
So, finally, we get to see the awesome might of the Concentrator. I mean, the narrative practically demands it - I think that if a Silver Age reader had reached the end of this story without seeing it they'd have spontaneously combusted (whereas a modern reader in a similar situation would use all of that energy to write a really scathing blog post).
I like that the Concentrator is visually unimpressive. Oh, it's big, I'll grant that, but stramlined and futuristic it ain't. The Legion's ultimate weapon is far too secret to have the boys down in R&D gin up a really impressive outer casing for it, after all - this is the bare-bones mechanism. But what does it do?

Jeepers? All the power in the Universe? Really? But it's safe, right, due to the fact that you're going to turn it off in a second. But, uh, but what about the electrical impulses in your brain (or whatever - the closest I've come to being a doctor is dating one, and she's long gone)? Don't they count as power, for the purposes of your super weapon? This could interfere with your plan, really.


"And all of the heat energy in the air, and the chemical energy  that powers our bodies, and," *horrible moment as every lifeform in the Universe dies*
But if it was just things like suns and cars and such, extended use of the Concentrator would be pretty amusing: whole planets and galaxies flickering on and off like a city in a movie blackout and entire planets of ticked-off citizenry and the like.

I'm betting that Brainiac 5 invented this thing, as he just can't bear to stop mentioning the "all power from everywhere" thing, possibly as practice so that he can brag about it the next time he tries to pick up Supergirl. 
Now, as much as I'm not fond of the Time Trapper, I've always been partial to the Iron Curtain of Time, especially as the Legion never actually got past it - it just wasn't there, eventually, as far as I remember. Of course I may be wrong, but even if I am I like to think of that Iron Curtain hanging out somewhere with the Source Wall (as depicted in Ambush Bug, Year None), having a drink and talking over old, good times.
Man, the Concentrator... it's possibly the most powerful sci-fi weapon ever conceived-of, really. No contest on a Concentrator/Death Star fight, and the Enterprise would be cinders. But that's the problem - realistically, the Legion should from this point forward be unstoppable. There appear to be no consequences to the use of this thing other than the chance that it'll fall into the wrong hands, so why not bust it out every time the fate of the known everything falls into question? 
Great Darkness Saga: "Oh, shit, it's Darkseid!" *building sounds* ZAPPO!
The Magic Wars: "The disturbances seem to be stemming from that planet." ZAPPO!
The Infinite Man, Mordru, Glorith, Dr Mayavale, etc: "I will rule/destroy creation in mere seconds!" ZAPPO!
The Legion is too big and competent an organization to fall prey to minor threats, and when the Concentrator is there to solve the really big ones that give them the dramatic trouble that we love so much then the whole concept is broken. Legion + Concentrator = no fun, unless the plot involves Brainiac 5 going insane and using the thing to hold the Universe hostage.
NOT APPROVED
This story is JOHN APPROVED, though - it's pretty damn delicious.
Post script!
When the Legion gets back to Earth, they find:
Oh, lord. I love Superboy's lack of impulse control. Big green Iresa simply horrifies him, unless it's his inexplicable resistance to the idea of getting some that's flaring up here. Either way, the Man of a Million Super-Powers has not one iota of tact in his blue-clad body. Man, that Iresa does have a square head, doesn't she?
The only better end to this comic would be Bouncing Boy revealing that he picked Iresa up by impressing her with tales about Legion stuff and asking if he could show her the Concentrator, because he's told her so much about it.

Super-Human Detritus of the Thirtieth Century: A Supergirl Week Special Review of Satan Girl, By Johnathan

Ha-ha! After dragging out for more than a month, the thrilling conclusion to the gripping drama that is the review of the ever-mysterious Concentrator has been preempted due to my love of participating in the theme weeks that Rachelle occasionally proclaims from her mighty throne over at Living Between Wednesdays. Naturally, I chose to write about Supergirl palling around with the Legion of Super-Heroes, and in an eerie bit of synchronicity, the first Supergirl/Legion story that I felt like writing about - and that Super Future Friends hadn't already talked about much better than I ever could - was Adventure Comics No. 313, featuring Satan Girl, winner of the last Paul and John poll!
That sentence was too long and convoluted!

Okay, Satan Girl! 
The story opens on various female Legionnaires, doing their regular Legion business:
Lightning Lass, surprisingly, is actually using her powers in a logical, useful and helpful way, instead of breaking my ability to suspend disbelief by, say, using giant lightning bolts to pick up trash or entertain the elderly by making hobos dance. Suddenly: illness!
Saturn Girl gets sick, too, possibly due to those gross eye-tentacles. Or the discoloured patch on that old diplomat's crotch.
Note, though, that she's doing useful, important work, too. Could this be the beginning of a new era of respect and equality in the Legion?
Well, I'm not saying that this is a positive "No.", this is a bit suspicious. Frankly, it sounds like the setup for an elaborate prank. "And then I turned on the engines! It was awesome! She was so embarrassed that I haven't seen her since, though I did find one of her shoes on the roof for some reason."
Even poor Night Girl is affected, when she comes over to help look after the sick'uns:
Sheesh, really? Quarantine World? Well, I suppose it is contagious... yeah, quarantine can't hurt, even if it doesn't seem to be much worse than a bad case of mono.
Okay, that's pretty harsh, Superboy. Seriously, they don't seem that bad. Look, they can stand up, all by themselves! 
This is why Superboy isn't allowed in the Smallville Old Folks' Home any more, by the way.
("Happy Thanksgiving, you're all doomed! Old and doomed! Let's hope you can finish your turkey before you die!)
So, the female Legionnaires are all sick and exiled. Then:
Satan Girl shows up! Satan Girl! 
Satan Girl!

This is... this is just the worst idea anyone ever had. Seriously, she might have had a slightly better chance of getting into the Legion if her name was Bad-touch Lass, or Kid Hate-crime. Or Duck-Murderer Damsel. Even circa 1992, a character named Satan Girl would have a tough time getting into the Legion - I think that the best she might hope for would be a solo gig as a "troubled loner". With a dark, secret past. 
And yet she's upset when she doesn't get in. Despite her impressive cheekbones, Satan Girl just isn't the sharpest peach in the pie. Note, for example, the immediate confession of evil deeds.
The Legion is thwarted, since they only have the one ship, and certainly don't have access to teleportation or time-travel technology (or the awesome might of the Concentrator, which remains a secret, bwa-ha).
(damn it, I forgot to add a joke about Sun Boy being the one who's shouting "Grab her!" Please supply your own juvenile snicker-fest, this time)
Since Superboy and Mon-El are off doing stuff, the Legion calls in Supergirl, and makes her Honorary Legion Leader because she's the only one tough enough to take on Satan Girl. All the boys wear their best doofy grins to meet her.
I sure do like these robot-nurses - they're exposition machines! I bet they make that little non-joke about knowing their professions about three hundred times per day - note the expression on Saturn Girl's face.
Hey... I just noticed that the robots have skirts on. Because... because they're nurses? I guess I am more attracted to them now that I know that they're female, so I'll let it pass.
That's how I want to go - spewing exposition to the very end. Rest in peace, foxy robot lady.
Anyway, it's time for the most important part of this comic: 
GIRL FIGHT!
FLASH! WHIRL! SOCK! POW! Time for a hug!
Aw, Supergirl. Heat vision is against the Girl Fight rules. Round One to Satan Girl.
Actually, I'm pretty impressed with how this scrap was handled. Satan Girl's hair-pull in the above panel was the only "girly" move pulled by either contestant. And frankly, if someone was trying to eye-laser a mask off of my face? I'd be doing some hair-pulling, too.
Since Supergirl figures that Satan Girl must be a rogue Kryptonian of some kind (and surely not a Daxamite or any of  thirty or forty other super-powered races that've shown up by this point) she rounds up some still-incredibly-common-even-in-the-future kryptonite, to... well, when you get right down to it, to give Satan Girl a dose of radiation sickness. That's actually really harsh, Supergirl.
Too bad for Supergirl: Satan Girl is immune to the effects of kryptonite. Which is good, actually, because since that box was full of dust it's probably all through her clothes and in her lungs and everywhere - if she were Kryptonian, she'd totally be dead, I think. 
Also luckily for Supergirl, Satan Girl hides in a cave, instead of coming over for another super-hug. Supergirl cunningly waits out front...
... while Satan Girl blasts out the back! Damn, Supergirl - I think that Satan Girl is winning on points, so far. But can she keep up the pace and unleash enough dastardly maneuvers to win this one? We'll see, in Part 2!
Okay, forks. I'll see you in a day or so for the stirring conclusion - soon you will know the mysterious, unguessable secret of just who Satan Girl is!
Happy Supergirl Week, one and all.

High-Tech Tomorrow: Review of the Concentrator, Part 3, By Johnathan

Wa-ha-ha! I didn't forget about this, nope nope. Wasn't it cute back when I thought I'd get around to doing it all over the Labour Day weekend? Oh, One-Month-Younger John. Such an innocent. 
Oh! This seems to be the appropriate place to report that I picked up Jimmy Olsen No. 72, "The World of Doomed Olsens" last week. In terms of Legion chronology, this is probably as close to owning Adventure Comics No. 247 as I'm ever going to get, so I'm savouring it for all it's worth.
On to the merriment and interrogation!
We open with Saturn Girl, who as you may recall (strain those memories, folks, it was a while ago) had Superboy pretty worried, due to the fact that she had a whole 'nother way to screw up and give away the Legion's secrets... with her mind!

Okay, okay. I guess that the thought-sensing headband validates some of Superboy's kind-of-chauvinistic-seeming fears (though I don't quite see why the Commish didn't just slap that thing on and question Ultra Boy, say. He'd just have to wait for nature to take its course). 
But, surprisingly, Saturn Girl is ready for this particular tactic, and so starts thinking about the fantastic feats of the Legion to keep the oh-so-tantalizing secret of the Concentrator to herself.
(note: the Commissioner has placed Saturn Girl under a Joan Crawford beam)
Let's watch:
Not a bad trick (and look! My favourite gloves!) but I'm tormented by thoughts of where exactly he got that giant net. If this were a Batman comic of the same era I'd guess that it was from a billboard or something - maybe this particular distant world caters to off-planet fishing enthusiasts?
Also, that looks like a really awkward way to stand, particularly whilst straddling a city.
By Jove, is that G'nort?

So is Invisible Kid juggling too, or is he just moving a couple of extra balls in circles in the air? Either way, I guess that it would be a pretty good show, especially if he was trying to make the leap from 'busker' to 'soothsayer' - it's possible that someone flubbed the briefing on that mission, as far as explaining the fact that there are a few different kinds of magician out there.
Note the brilliant, Batman-esque use of disguise, as Element Lad puts on a suit coat over his uniform.
I would bet a hundred dollars that this "feat" was just a ploy to keep these two lunkheads out of trouble. I dare someone to claim that the Legion doesn't have a closet packed full of Meteor Simulation Guns or cages full of Andorran Fireball Hornets or something like that, for just such an occasion. 
The bit with Matter-Eater Lad and the Giant Mouth Creature happens here too, by the way.
Again: Superboy is proven to be a big tool.
Okay, Mon-El! Step up to the torture-plate!
I like Mon-El, but this sort of thing is why I don't think we could be close friends. 
"Hey Mon-El, could you turn up the heat? It's freezing in here!"
"Whoops, sorry. I'm invulnerable to everything - I didn't notice the cold."
"Mon-El, man, your couch is really uncomfortable. I think that every single spring is poking through."
"Damn, John, I'm sorry. When you're invulnerable to everything, so is your ass."
"Ag! Watch your cigarette, Mon-El! You almost set my shirt on fire!"
"Yeah, that happens a lot when you're invulnerable to everything. Shirt-fires are just another part of your day."
Speaking of friends:
I'm guessing that either Planet Zirr is some sort of haven for particularly dull-witted aliens or that Garl and Englen are super high in this panel, because they are way too happy about the situation that they are in. "Mon-El! Word up, brah! I see you're hangin' out in some poison gas - still enjoying being invulnerable to everything, huh? Man, Garl and me, we were just talking about you yesterday, just before we got kidnapped by this orange guy here, and now here you are, in some orange gas! It's like, kismet or something!"
Actually, maybe only Englen is high. Garl looks more scornful than anything else, like he's been kidnapped and used as a pawn to try to get his invulnerable friends to spill the beans about super-weapons dozens of times and they've all been more impressive than this.
I'm choosing to ignore the fact that the Legion has the technology necessary to take photos of the past and am instead picturing Superboy doing a brief photo-essay on his dying friend before sticking him in the Phantom Zone. 
That's just terrible, Superboy.
Good lord! this picture is worse than that one of Shrinking Violet! Mon-El looks like he just saw his puppy get run over by a clone of his puppy, who then got sent to prison, leaving him puppyless. He looks real upset, man.
The fact that he didn't point out their abnormal happiness is proof of everything I said up there. I feel so validated!
Last one for today. Phantom Girl!:
Given the emotional state of most Legionnaires (about as prone to melodrama as any three Dawson's Creek characters, combined), this is a pretty good tactic. Those kids'll turn on each other more readily than they'll make out at the behest of the big computer. It's worse than turning your back on a rooster, I swear.
Et tu, Saturn Girl? 
On the strange note of Superboy being the level-headed voice of trust and solidarity, I leave you. No promises, but I'll try to wrap this interminable review up soon (projected completion date: June 2012).

High-Tech Tomorrow: Review of the Concentrator, Part 2, by Johnathan

Gah! In an eerily predictable move, I have taken much longer than I intended to get around to writing this second chunk of text. Blame Spore, friends, and blame computer crashings that Spore caused. Oh, and blame my complete lack of self-control.

Without further ado, I present to you: psychological torture, Legion-style!

The first super-teen on the chopping-block is our old friend Sun Boy. Let's watch:

Okay, I can see how this could be nerve-wracking: grim corridors, a dark room, questions. I can't blame Dirk for his anxiety, really. Turning on some Morgna-style light isn't a bad plan, really.

Oops, mirrors! Well, I guess it's time for another plan, right? One that doesn't involve blinding lights? Maybe he could kick out the mirrors in the dark, or light things up just a bit so he can find the speakers, or use his powers in a more focused way and melt through the door? Mirrors wouldn't be much good against those cunning plans, right?

Or just bulling ahead in the least strategic way possible, that's a plan. A really, really dumb plan, but still a plan. The fact that it actually ended up working is some slight validation, but I think that maybe Sun Boy should be confined for life anyway, for his own safety. I guess he didn't talk, though, so there's no quick answer for you fine folks on just what the gosh-darned Concentrator actually is. At least you know how to defeat Sun Boy now: get a room full of heat-proof mirrors.

Bonus lesson: if you injure yourself through stupidity in the line of duty, try to do it in an out-of-the-way place, so everyone assumes that you were being heroic instead of willfully stupid.

Time for the testing of Shrinking Violet!


Now, this was back when our pal Salu was characterized by being very timid and shy and looking concerned all the time (and evidently by wearing a very short skirt, judging by this picture). I... suppose that illusory monsters might be upsetting to such a person, but I have to say that this is pretty weak. That monster? That's not a good monster, folks. I've always liked Shrinking Violet, but her being intimidated by this thing is making me lose some respect for her.

Now these are good freaky-looking monsters. They're only a couple of hours' worth of meticulous line-work away from fitting in in a Basil Wolverton comic - those mucousy lips that the uppermost beast is sporting would be enough to get me talking, if I though they were likely to touch me. Still, Violet knows these things are illusions - this is fairly wimpy behavior.

But I can't stay mad at someone who can make such an awesome horrified face. Man, she is so distressed that it's distressing - I believe that I was unable to find out for certain who drew this issue, but whoever it was sure knew how to draw a horrified woman. They were either highly talented at the drawing table or extraordinarily unlucky in the lists of love, I reckon.

Still, Violet is smarter than Sun Boy: her solution has to be better, right?

"I'll get so small that those monster couldn't find me even if they were real!" Good plan!

Wait, no. No, no, no. Bad plan. Dumb plan. Plan that wouldn't even work today, if CSI is to be believed, or if, say, the Commissioner has invested in a volume knob for his recording device. And even if the plan were workable, I'm going to guess that you have to be smaller than 4 or 5 inches before you're completely inaudible. Confined for life!

Not confined for life? John... confused. John move on now.

Ah, the Legion. A group of friends who stick together through thick and thin, who are perfectly willing to die so that one of their friends might live, and who are willing to turn on one another at the slightest hint of weakness. I mean, really, Superboy.

"Gawdamn telepaths. Likely to ... think out alla our secrets. I just don't trust a dame to not broadcast her thoughts all over the place. Hey, wait a minute. Star Boy has hands. Sweet Christmas, what if he accidentally signs the secrets of the Concentrator, or even doodles 'em out? All would be lost!

Guess it's time for some 'accidental' hand-shaking incidents, Clark."

"... although you do have that super-shout power, so be careful not to use that to accidentally reveal our precious secrets. And don't write them on the wall with your heat vision. Or use super-hypnosis to implant them in the Commissioner's subconscious mind.

Also, try to avoid fusing sand into glass with your hands, because you do that a lot, and it's getting kind of old."

Good lord there used to be a lot of kryptonite in the DC Universe. Look at him, he's not even surprised. I wonder if that's what Final Crisis is for - to bring back plentiful kryptonite so that the Superman writers can take it easy for a few years (okay, that was a bit self-indulgent. It's just that though I'm enjoying Final Crisis I can't quite figure out what it's for. The other Crises all fixed something - what's this one doing, other than hopefully ending that particular habit? Ah, ignore me.).

Maybe... maybe it's the Commissioner who's an idiot. This is just kind of a stupid tactic, in that you basically get to ask your question once. Because that much kryptonite would take Superboy out pretty quickly, right? Oh, I know: Beppo the Super-Monkey would show up at the last second and get rid of the green-k with a giant shovel that he made out of a minivan, but the Commissioner doesn't know about the deus ex machina effects of kryptonite. As far as he's concerned, that lever's a death sentence. For anyone without super-speed. Or seven or eight other lever-stopping abilities. Grump grump nerd nerd.

Superboy has absolute faith in his friends! He does not believe that girls can't keep a secret! He has never considered administering a quick heat-vision lobotomy just to be on the safe side!

This review is not continued! It won't be continued soon!

High-Tech Tomorrow: Review of the Concentrator, Part One, By Johnathan

Hey there, friends - it's time for another review-as-voted-on! Looking way back to Adventure Comics No. 321, we're going to have a look at the fearsome Concentrator, mua-ha. I think, though, that this is one of those times that it's better to look at the whole issue, rather than extracting bits of it for humourous out-of-context ridicule. I estimate... three entries, maybe? And this is a three-day weekend! Keep tuning in to see if I can manage to meet my own very easy deadline! (Ha ha ha! It's Monday already: I fail!)

We join the Legion on page two:


Man, I sure do wish that Phantom Girl had remained all ghostly and pigment-free - just imagine how much weirder her string of peek-a-boo uniforms would have been if the cloth and her exposed bits were all the same colour. Also, think of the savings on ink! Im sure that by now we'd have seen a Phantom Girl and the Phantom Squad, Featuring Phantom Ape miniseries or something, if only because of the rising cost of little pink dots.


"Who is this stranger with Bouncing Boy's haircut, clothes and voice? Dammit, I told you not to let just anyone wander in here! Now, where's my chair? No, that's not it. No, my chair was facing the other way, so that can't be it! Also, this isn't the cactus that was here before - that cactus was shorter!"

See, what I'm trying to hint at here is that Star Boy has poor recognition skills.


Also, he's an A-1 jerk. "No, you can't be Bouncing Boy - he was a fat asshole. "

And I'll tell you exactly what Mon-El - and possibly Sun Boy - is thinking in this panel: I wonder if anyone's noticed the new way I combed my hair?

Bouncing Boy goes on to tell the story of his slimmening, which involves a shrink ray and is patently something that the writer threw together just to get rid of the guy. Not that anyone was listening to him anyway:


They were far too busy voting on whether to toss him out on his ear or not, with maybe a quick roughing up by Ultra Boy to make sure he keeps his mouth shut if any reporters think to ask about the Big Computer Sex Parties or anything like that.

So presumably they send the Reservist out for Astro-coffee or something, and then it's back to the meeting!


Now, this is back from when the Time Trapper was a super-scientist hiding behind the Iron Curtain of Time, thirty days into the future or so. Long, long before he became the Irritating Emo Plot Device From the End of Time that we all know and I loathe, he was actually mildly interesting. He sat behind that curtain and made fun of the Legion and every once in a while he tried some ridiculous scheme involving Glorith or the Molecular Master or someone like that.

Ah, there's the first mention of the Concentrator. Time to find out what it is: speak on, Star Boy!


Aw. I guess we'll never learn what that darned thing is. grumble grumble this is why I have to write such long reviews, damn Legion and their secrecy...

Superboy: Hey, Mon-El's hair looks great. I wonder if I should change my 'do?


Chameleon Boy and Triplicate Girl then show up and completely coincidentally tell everyone about some really lame attempts to wrangle info about the Concentrator out of them. This elicits some fairly elaborate eyebrow-raising and not a little nose-wrinkling, and then, in a completely coincidental occurrence:


Science Police Commissioner Wilson shows up! He's heard some talk of a Concentrator of some kind and he wants the poop! He's... kind of paunchy!


Now, this comes up later, so I'd like to point it out specifically: the chain of events here is that a) This guy hears a vague rumour about the Legion having a super-weapon of some sort. b) He asks them about it and they say that it could potentially threaten the entire Universe. c) He believes them, just like all good people should when a group of teenagers make grandiose claims.


d) Based solely on space-radio scuttlebutt and their collective word, he decides to put them through gruelling psychological torment, with possible life imprisonment waiting for anyone who blabs.


Planet Althar, uninhabited except for strange life-forms! (Space Directive X21v states that planets may be considered inhabited only if the life-forms in question are regular, small or boring. Technically, Althar is considered to be in-friggin'-habited, but the term was coined in the 2530s, and scientists of the Legion era don't talk like that any more.)

A better site for testing astronauts' suitability for space travel, you say? Could it be, just as an example, somewhere that you don't need a rocket ship to get to? I only ask out of curiosity, you understand.


Heh, Matter-Eating Lad. Nice one, Querl.


See, it came up again (sooner than I'd thought, but still): based solely on their word, this man is prepared to imprison these people for life if they reveal a secret that they themselves decided to keep. That's like... ag! I can't even think up a good example! Legion logic hurts my head!

Good issue, though.

NEXT TIME: the Legionnaires get psychologically tortured!