As I've mentioned here before, I'm not a big fan of magical characters. And I've especially not been a fan of Zatanna, as that talking backwards shtick gets awful old awful fast (your mileage may vary, especially if you're easily distracted by fishnet stockings).
But her father, Zatarra?? That dude was straight trippin'. Serious, brain-melting oddness, without self-consciousness or distracting cheesecake.
Our story? As with all 1940's magicians, Zatarra is making sure that small-town mayors keep their campaign promises (huh?).
It seems that Mayor Martin Morton used a ghost writer to craft his stirring speeches, which the story treats as a sign of moral turpitude. How quaint.
Anyway, along with many broken campaign promises, Morton is refusing to pay his ghost writer. Damn, it, it's time for a magician to intervene!!
Dude, you killed him!! That's a good thing??
Well, the mayor seems convinced to do better...but Zatarra ends up doing all the actual work!! First, turning the dump into a playground:
Yes, speaking backwards isn't enough--the cans must grow legs and roll around to "smooth the ground."
See what I said about trippin'?
Next, how to clean out corruption? Anthropomorphic torches!!
Build a town swimming pool? Let's just play Fantasia!!
You know, I'm not sure that Zatarra understands the fundamentals of pool construction...
Bad housing??
HE'S TALKING TO A HOUSE, AND THE HOUSE IS TALKING BACK!! AND COMMITTING SUICIDE!!
That's OK--little bricks with arms and legs will build themselves into new, better housing!!
Wow. I mean, wow! If Zatanna stories were this relentlessly insane, I'd be a bigger fan. Damn the fishnets--bring me the weird!!
I really wish I had access to the stuff Joe Samachson and William F. White were on when they created this story for World's Finest #39 (1949).
But her father, Zatarra?? That dude was straight trippin'. Serious, brain-melting oddness, without self-consciousness or distracting cheesecake.
Our story? As with all 1940's magicians, Zatarra is making sure that small-town mayors keep their campaign promises (huh?).
It seems that Mayor Martin Morton used a ghost writer to craft his stirring speeches, which the story treats as a sign of moral turpitude. How quaint.
Anyway, along with many broken campaign promises, Morton is refusing to pay his ghost writer. Damn, it, it's time for a magician to intervene!!
Dude, you killed him!! That's a good thing??
Well, the mayor seems convinced to do better...but Zatarra ends up doing all the actual work!! First, turning the dump into a playground:
Yes, speaking backwards isn't enough--the cans must grow legs and roll around to "smooth the ground."See what I said about trippin'?
Next, how to clean out corruption? Anthropomorphic torches!!
Build a town swimming pool? Let's just play Fantasia!!
You know, I'm not sure that Zatarra understands the fundamentals of pool construction...Bad housing??
HE'S TALKING TO A HOUSE, AND THE HOUSE IS TALKING BACK!! AND COMMITTING SUICIDE!!That's OK--little bricks with arms and legs will build themselves into new, better housing!!
Wow. I mean, wow! If Zatanna stories were this relentlessly insane, I'd be a bigger fan. Damn the fishnets--bring me the weird!!I really wish I had access to the stuff Joe Samachson and William F. White were on when they created this story for World's Finest #39 (1949).
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