Monday, December 29, 2025

When Man-Bat met The Demon (On 1978's Batman Family #16)

One of the DC characters I've been thinking about lately is Jack Kirby's Etrigan, The Demon, having recently encountered him in November's The Spectre omnibus, and during a partial re-read of the Moench/Jones/Beatty Batman run and again in Lobo/Demon: Helloween. So, I was of course quite interested to see him show up in a Man-Bat story from the pages of 1978's Batman Family #16, collected in that 2019 Legends of the Dark Knight: Michael Golden in which I found that "Enter the Ragman" story I blogged about the other day 

Unfortunately, Etrigan didn't make the cover, so I'm just using the character intros from the first page of Bob Rozakis and Michael Golden's "There's a Demon Born Every Minute" at the top of this post. 

Now Man-Bat was created in 1970 by writer Frank Robbins, artist Neal Adams and editor Julius Schwartz (the last of whom Wikipedia credits with "concept"). He was originally an antagonist to Batman. After several appearances in Detective Comics, however, he became something of a hero himself and seems to fit into the broader category of monster heroes, a superhero sub-genre that seems to have been rather prevalent in DC and Marvel comics in the 1970s. 

This portrayal now seems strange, given that Man-Bat has primarily been portrayed as a usually bestial, monstrous foe of Batman's over at least the last 35 years or so. (I wonder how much of that might be attributable to the 1992 Batman: The Animated Series episode "On Leather Wings", which was itself based on those early Robbins/Adams Detective Comics appearances?) 

But in late 1975, the character starred his own series—even if it only lasted two issues—and was then given a regular feature in the Batman Family anthology series. In these stories, he seems to have retained enough of his humanity to function as a good citizen, combatting bad guys rather than just going on rampages.

In this particular 19-page story, Man-Bat's human alter-ego, scientist Kirk Langstrom, is pacing the floors of a Gotham City hospital, nervously waiting as his wife Francine is about to give birth to their first child (Is all of that nervousness just the usual jitters of a first-time father, or is he worried his chemically induced transformations into a human/bat hybrid might have some effect on his child, I wonder...?).

When he hears screaming and sees medical personnel fleeing from a delivery room, he thinks to himself "This is a case for-- --Man-Bat!", pulls off his shirt, and transforms into Man-Bat, flying in the direction the doctors and nurses have just fled from. (Unlike, say, The Hulk, Langstrom's transformations don't seem to have any ill effect on his pants, so he's always sensibly dressed in a pair of hunter green slacks while naked from the waist up.)

Inside the delivery room, he finds a new mother and a monstrous three-eyed green baby. The baby is able to magically throw tanks of gas through the air at Man-Bat. He punches the baby (yes, our hero punches out a baby), and it soon returns to its normal form, that of a human baby (and it doesn't seem to have taken any real damage from Man-Bat's punch).

What's going on here...? 

Nattily dressed professional demonologist Jason Blood, with some seriously unkempt eyebrows, is on the case. 

He arrives and presents his very seventies-looking business card to an incredulous police officer. 

Soon, there's more screaming from a second delivery room, and Blood chants "Yarva Demonicus Etrigan!" or "I summon the demon Etrigan!", and soon he's transformed to the yellow-skinned, big-eared, horned demon who, as Golden draws him here, also has some prominent eyebrows, apparently the one feature he shares with Blood (see below).

This Etrigan, by the way, doesn't yet speak strictly in rhyme (While Kirby had his Demon speak in rhyme a bit, Len Wein had him rhyming in a 1984 DC Comics Presents appearance, and that same year Alan Moore featured the character in a Swamp Thing arc in which he spoke in rhyming iambic pentameter; afterwards, whether he rhymed or not seemed to depend on the writer and the circumstances of the character, but it sure seems to be he rhymed more than he didn't ever after that Swamp Thing appearance).

Etrigan also, in this particular story anyway, is unequivocally a good guy, and doesn't seem to harbor any hidden agendas or propensity for evil. 

He too battles a demon baby, this one another great monster design by Golden, using "demon-fire" (not sure why, but Rozakis keeps using that term rather than "hellfire") to restore the baby to its human form.

The two monster heroes quickly get on the same page, with Etrigan explaining that his old enemy Morgaine Le Fey seems to be waiting for a particular baby destined for great power to be born, and she is therefore infusing each one with a spell that temporarily turns it into a demon, but so far she hasn't found the right newborn yet (We already knew Le Fey would be the story's villain though; we saw her escaping the dimensional walls of her prison and stealing the Philosopher's Stone from Blood's office in the opening pages of the story. As to how she made her escape, it apparently had something to do with the JLoA's interdimensional transporter to Earth-2 weakening the walls between dimensions or something. We therefore get two panels of Batman and Batgirl bidding farewell to the pre-Crisis Huntress as she leaves Earth-1 for home). 

Given that he's got a child about to be born any minute, Man-Bat obviously wants to put a stop to this turning-newborns-into-demons thing as soon as possible, and so he and Etrigan leave the hospital to search for Le Fey, Etrigan riding on Man-Bat's back as if he were a horsey:

The creators are fast running out of pages, but there's room for a brief, five-page confrontation with the villain, during which Golden lays out a quite cool page in which we see Le Fey framed in the middle of the page, two tiers of panels on either side of her. One features Etrigan, the other Man-Bat, and in these, she menaces them with giant versions of her own hands that appear through the ceiling and floor.

Luckily for Man-Bat, on of these giant hands grabs him by the wings, and so all he has to do to free himself is to revert back into wing-less Kirk Langstrom, snatch the Philosopher's Stone from Le Fey and point it in her direction, which turns her to stone.

Rushing back to the hospital, he arrives in time to greet his new baby, which he reacts to in shock, before the last-page splash reveals why exactly he is so surprised: The baby he's been referring to as "Kirk Jr." throughout the story is actually a girl, Rebecca Elizabeth Langstrom.

In the lower righthand corner of the page there's a little box reading, "Is Rebecca Langstrom actually the latent demon foreseen by Etrigan and Morgaine Le Fey? Only time and future issues...will tell!"

As far as I can tell, no future issues of Batman Family—or any other comics—would address the possibility of Rebecca Langstrom being a demon of some kind. I wouldn't be at all surprised to find out that she might have turned into a human/bat hybrid at some point, though.  

Sunday, December 28, 2025

Booksehlf #10

Finally, we come to the bottom shelf of the first of my big Ikea bookshelves, which means our tour has now completed two full shelving units. This one's contents consist of the last of the Batman-related comics (at least those acquired between 2012 and 2024 or so), and the comics featuring the next biggest DC characters following Superman and Batman.

The Batman related comics are on the left, and they included the last few alternate universe Batman comics (some Batman '66, the first Batman '89 collection, the only Beware the Batman trade, collecting the six issues of the comic based on the 2013 cartoon), comics starring Batman's allies (Robins, Batgirls, Nightwing, Batwoman, the apparently forgotten Talon, plus a volume of the New 52 Batman/Superman and various Super Sons comics) and comics starring his foes (The Joker, Harley Quinn, Catwoman, Bane). 

To the right are comics featuring the characters I considered the most prominent following the World's Finest, in order of prominence: Wonder Woman, The Flash (well, the Flash/Impulse), Green Lantern, Aquaman, Plastic Man, Captain Marvel, Green Arrow and Black Canary. 

I kind of wish DC would have kept going with those collections of the original Robin ongoing, the one starring Tim Drake and written by Chuck Dixon, as well as the Kyle Rayner Green Lantern comics and Peter David's Aquaman (Although I think the entirety of David's Aquaman run is now available in omnibus format). I would happily add those to my shelves. 

Thursday, December 25, 2025

The first time Batman met Ragman (On 1978's Batman Family #20)

In my recent post about Batman and Ragman teaming-up in 1998's Batman #551 and #552, I briefly discussed the history of Ragman, particularly his post-Crisis iteration, as the character had far more appearances after DC's first big continuity reboot than in the relatively few years he was around before it. 

In a bit of synchronicity, the very next day I saw this post on Dave's Comic Heroes Blog, featuring the cover of Batman Family #20, the last issue in the series. As you can see, that cover featured Batman confronting Ragman. While I don't think DC ever released a collection of the 1975-1978 Batman Family series, that Batman/Ragman story happened to be drawn by Michael Golden, and thus it ended up in 2019 collection Legends of the Dark Knight: Michael Golden, an electronic copy of which I was able to borrow through my library.

And therefore, I got to read that Batman/Ragman comic just about as soon as I learned of its existence and can now write about it for your reading pleasure. 

After a few minutes of online research, it seems that this is the very first appearance of Ragman outside of his own short-lived series ("Short-lived" as in it only lasted five issues). It is also the first time he meets Batman, with whom he shares a city, although the pair would go on to cross paths repeatedly in the future, including in an issue of Brave and The Bold, in the 1991 Ragman miniseries, an issue of Legends of the Dark Knight and that 1998 Batman two-parter.

This story is by writer David V. Reed and, as mentioned above, artist Michael Golden. I have never heard of Reed and I know Golden's name primarily as a cover artist (There's a whole gallery of his covers for various Batman related covers in the back of the collection; that evocative image of a white-skinned Batman you see on the cover of Legends of the Dark Knight: Michael Golden is from one of those). It's entitled, perhaps unimaginatively, "Enter the Ragman."

It opens with Batman, "the matchless fighting machine", beating up a bunch of thugs armed only with sledgehammers and knives. Said thugs have apparently chased all the residents out of an apartment building in a poor neighborhood, part of a criminal enterprise that involves doing that, later razing the empty buildings and then developing the land for a huge profit.

Investigating the scheme is Bette Berg, a freelance photographer and journalist...and girlfriend of Rory Regan, the proprietor of the Rags 'n' Tatters junk shop and, secretly, Ragman. The pair are followed back to the shop by two parties.

The first is Batman, who eavesdrops outside the window for a bit to see what the pair were doing at the scene of the crime. Here he (and we) learn that Bette is a crusading journalist (and Rory, apparently, helps). The other is a member of the crooked real estate racket, and, because of him, the scheme's boss sends a few hoods to Rags 'n' Tatters to slap Bette, wreck the joint and threaten her not to continue her investigation.

It is now time for Ragman to enter "Enter The Ragman."

Before Rory suits up in his very cozy looking costume—which really looks like something warm to wear around the house on a winter's day, doesn't it?—Reed and Golden recount his origin, which takes just 13 panels here. Here are a few of those panels:
Remember, this is his original, pre-Crisis origin, the one conceived by creator Robert Kanigher, not the post-Crisis one Keith Giffen and Robert Loren Fleming came up with, involving Jewish mysticism, a suit of souls and a lineage of magical defenders of the downtrodden.

To recap that original origin briefly, rather than make you try to read the panels above, Rory, his father and three of his father's friends were caught in fallen power lines, and some freak twist of fate caused these to electrocute all of the older men, while transferring their special abilities to Rory, the only one to survive the incident. And, as chance/Kanigher would have it, those friends all had pretty useful abilities, being a former circus strongman, a heavyweight boxer and an acrobat.

I guess the idea was that the Ragman hero was something of a patchwork of the skills of various men, in the same way that his quilt-like costume was made up of various bits of fabric...? Personally, I like the later, post-Crisis origin better. The Jewish identity and mission to protect his people makes Regan a more distinct character than the mostly religious-free superheroes of the comic books, and the magical abilities of the "suit of souls" costume seem more, um, realistic to me than the freak electrical accident.

Of course, that may just be nostalgia speaking, as the Giffen and Fleming-written Ragman was my first exposure to the character. 

Anyway, Rory spends a panel doing research into the real estate scheme at the library—that's where he was when Bette was attacked in his shop—and he finds out who is ultimately responsible for it: Bruce Wayne!

And so Ragman scales the side of a downtown Gotham skyscraper to reach the penthouse apartment of Wayne—I guess that this is the point in the seventies where Batman had moved out of the manor and into his penthouse?—only to be confronted by a superhero who claims to be a "close friend" of Wayne's, the Batman. 
The pair argue for a bit, with Batman saying that the Wayne Foundation has an outside agency handling their properties, and, when they come to blows, Batman basically takes a pair of very powerful punches from Ragman before the Tattered Tatterdemalion leaves, having learned that Wayne's not actually there anyway. 

Instead, Ragman attacks the boss of the scheme and his strongmen, a fight Batman eventually joins.

There's a pretty cool sequence where the two caped heroes corner the fleeing boss, in which Reed let's Golden's evocative imagery do all the talking:
Golden doesn't get too many panels in which to draw Ragman in this relatively short outing, and thus it's hard to fairly judge his Ragman versus those of other artists, like co-creator Joe Kubert or Pat Broderick or Kelley Jones, but he certainly does a fantastic job highlighting the creepiness of the cape and hood in this sequence.

On the one-page epilogue, a very seventies-looking Bruce Wayne himself shows up at Rags 'n' Tatters to show Bette and Rory that he's really a nice guy, congratulating them on their front-page expose in the Gotham Blade, offering to pay for the damages to the shop caused by the bad guys and underwriting a grant so they can continue their work, by which I assume he means the freelance reporting.
The two Gotham City heroes would next cross paths in 1983's Brave and the Bold #196 (written by Kanigher and drawn by Jim Aparo), after which they wouldn't meet again until Crisis on Infinite Earths scrambled DC's history and continuity, leading to a very different version of Ragman. 

Between the original Ragman series, the two '90s miniseries, and these various team-ups with Batman, there's probably enough Ragman comics to fill a DC Finest collection, although I wonder if such a relatively niche character would be deemed popular enough to sell such a book, and if the Batman connection would be enough for DC to greenlight one...

Monday, December 22, 2025

Announcing Giant Monster Movies: 100 Years of Big-Screen Behemoths

We interrupt our regular comic book talking about for breaking news: I have a book coming out in 2026. 

As you can see from the cover image above, it's entitled Giant Monster Movies: 100 Years of Big-Screen Behemoths. It will be published by McFarland. 

The book reviews the entirety of the giant monster movie genre, from 1925's The Lost World, the climax of which established a basic template that all giant monster movies followed, to 2024's Godzilla x Kong: The New Empire, the latest in the Warner Bros./Legendary Pictures string of "Monsterverse" blockbusters.

That's 92 films total, including the King Kong, Godzilla, Gamera and Mothra franchises, 1950s giant bug movies (Tarantula!, The Deadly Mantis, The Black Scorpion), international attempts by countries trying to create their very own Godzilla (Yongary, Reptilicus, Gorgo), some oft-overlooked oddball movies (The Giant Claw, The X From Outer Space, Gappa: The Triphibian Monster, Space Amoeba) and many more.

If you enjoy reading my reviews of things—and, given the fact that you are reading this post on my comics review blog, I suspect you might—then you should enjoy my reviewing my way through the history of the giant monster movie genre.

I will be happy to share more details when they become available—chances are, you will be quite sick of me talking about the book before too long—but for now, here's what McFarland has on their site at the moment. If you haven't yet followed me on Bluesky, please do so, as that's probably the best place to keep up to date on various Caleb-related goings-on.

And if you guys have any questions in the meantime, feel free to ask in the comments below or via email. Thank you, as always, for reading. 

Review: 1996's Lobo/Demon: Helloween #1

The most striking image in this one-shot special is also one that marks it as a product of the 1990s. That would be the caricatured visage of one William Jefferson Clinton drawn atop the familiar yellow-skinned, red tunic-and-blue-caped body of Jack Kirby's Etrigan, The Demon.

This strange composite figure appears in two panels. The first is a splash page, in which it pounces upon Lobo from behind (above). 

In the second, the figure leaps back from the now prone bounty hunter, bathing him in flames spat from its mouth with a "FWOOOSH!"
It's only then that Etrigan pushes back his President Clinton mask and declares "Trick or Treat, Lobo!" For, as the subtitle of this 1996 one-shot denotes, it's set around Halloween (and was originally published in October of that year). Lobo was on his way to celebrate "Hallowe'en on a planet so rude it doesn't have a name" but lacking the funds to buy booze to bring with him, he takes a last-minute job on Earth...or thereabouts. 

He has come to Earth's moon to meet his new employer. And as for The Demon? Well, he's on the moon to meet his new employee. You can probably guess where this is going. 

The two wildly different characters might seem an odd match from a 30-year remove, but then, writer Alan Grant was associated with them both. He had written Etrigan for about 35 issues of the character's longest ever ongoing series, between 1990 and 1993 and, as of that October, he was on his 34th issue of the Lobo ongoing (after having written or co-written several Lobo miniseries and one-shots before that had ever even launched). Lobo had guest-starred in two different Demon arcs, during the course of which the characters developed a sort of grudging respect for one another. While Grant's The Demon and Lobo were often tonally quite different, they did share a similar sense of dark humor.

How tight are the two at this point? Well, Lobo doesn't even seem upset that Etrigan attacked him from behind and then set him ablaze, responding only to the attack with, "Etrigan--Th' Demon! I might've fraggin' knowed it!"

The specifics of the job that Etrigan has hired Lobo to perform are kind of complicated, and, indeed, a half-dozen pages of the 24-page book are devoted to flashbacks of the backstory...it's a long enough sequence that Grant has Lobo interrupting Etrigan's telling of that backstory more than once, the sequence only ending when Lobo finally puts his hand over Etrigan's mouth to stop him from going on and offers to simply guess the rest.
Briefly, there is an ancient giant monster that emerges from imprisonment every 10,000 years or so, "on th' night o' some ancient pagan festival" and then seeks to destroy the world. Lobo assumes Etrigan has hired him to help stop the monster, but he assumes wrong. Etrigan has hired Lobo to help the monster destroy the world, by fighting off the ancient guardian warrior that awakens at the same time as the monster, ritualistically battling it to keep it from destroying the world. 

While these two characters generally play the role of hero (or at least anti-hero) in their appearances, I suppose it's worth remembering that Etrigan is a demon from Hell, and Lobo is a bounty hunter and mercenary who basically does whatever he's paid to do, there being only a few lines he won't cross (Like going back on his word, or allowing harm to come to space dolphins).

So yeah, the guys with their names in the title of this comic book are here bent on destroying the world, not saving it. 
Of course, circumstances are such that they end up with no choice other than to slay the monster themselves. After they defeat the guardian, the monster looks them over and perhaps encouraged by some taunting from Lobo, swallows them both alive. In order to save themselves, they have to kill it. 

The world is thus saved...by a couple of guys who were, moments before, trying to destroy it.

As I said when I mentioned this book in passing the other day, I had bought and read this when it was originally published...and forgot almost everything about it, which is what prompted me to reread it now.

The reason I had picked it up back then was that, if I recall correctly, there wasn't much else that caught my eye during that particular trip to the comic shop. That and, of course, I was a fan of Alan Grant's writing. And this particular Alan Grant comic was drawn by Vince Giarrano. 

I'm sure I've mentioned him on EDILW before, but I was and am a big fan of Giarrano's. He drew some Batman stuff here and there, and had his own short-lived, 13-issue title in the form of the post-Zero Hour volume of Manhunter. If you ever come across anything he's drawn in a back issue bin, I'd recommend snapping it up. 

His style is very '90s, but in a way that always struck me as somewhat ironic, perhaps even sarcastic, the work of someone who saw what was popular at the time and attempted to do his own version of it. His work was highly expressive, and exaggerated to the point of cartoony, sometimes even silly (In this regard, he reminds me a bit of Kelley Jones; their artwork would never be mistaken for that of the other or anything, but both had a tendency to always go as big as possible). 

He was thus a perfect choice for this book, and I was curious to see how he would handle the two characters. 

Unfortunately, I don't think there's necessarily any particularly potent imagery in this particular comic, the mythological aspects are all more or less generic in conception, though well drawn in a loose, exaggerated, cartoony style (There is a neat splash page where the world-ending monster escapes from a volcano and its tail is all smoke while it seems to solidify as it emerges).

Giarrano's Lobo is pretty much standard issue, the character's hair maybe being a bit bigger and pointier than other artists have drawn it, but his Etrigan is a rather unique one: Big but squat, with sharp facial features, huge ears and a severe underbite. There's something of a bulldog about him. 
Perhaps because Lobo's appearance here is tempered by that of Etrigan, this particular story didn't seem as Lobo-y as many other Lobo appearances of the '90s. That is, it doesn't rely so heavily on the one basic Lobo gag and, given that he's in a story where every other character is as powerful as him or more so, his tendency towards ultra-violence is a non-factor. He can't really kill, maim or bully anyone in this small cast. 

In that regard, I wonder if this isn't a decent place for someone who doesn't particularly care for Lobo—or doesn't really have any prior experience with or interest in the character—to meet him...? 

At any rate, it's a well-made if unremarkable comic from Alan Grant, a man who could by this point write these characters in his sleep (and, perhaps, was doing so here), and an extremely interesting artist. 

Of course, this book, like Lobo/Deadman, has never been collected anywhere, so I don't suppose anyone particularly interested will have an easy time tracking it down anyway...

I'd love to see DC collect Grant's Demon run at some point, as I had only read a handful of issues from it, and maybe, if they did, this would end up with it (That, and Grant's 1989 Action Comics Weekly story featuring The Demon...? And/or maybe his 1989 Detective Comics arc, that culminates with the best Batman/Demon fight ever...?)


*********************

If you are interested in the work of Vince Giarrano, here are some of the Batman books he drew for DC in the '90s that I read an enjoyed:

Batman Annual #16 This was a tie-in to the Eclipso: The Darkness Within annual crossover event, with writers Alan Grant and John Wagner (And a cover by Sam Kieth!) It's never been collected, but I hope DC will get around to collecting The Darkness Within eventually, maybe in a couple of volumes of DC Finest, as they did with Zero Hour...

Batman: Seduction of the Gun #1 This 64-page one-shot special was written by John Ostrander and addresses the issue of gun violence. It's strident enough that I have a hard time imagining DC having published such a book in the 21st century, for fear of offending someone. It's never been collected.

Batman: Shadow of the Bat #11-12, #19-20, #24 and #48-50 These were all written by Alan Grant. The first two issues introduced teenage villain The Human Flea, a character I loved but who never reappeared; it's been collected in 2016's Batman: Shadow of the Bat Vol. 1. The next two introduced the minor villain The Tally Man, pitting him against then-Batman Jean-Paul Valley, and #24 was a single-issue story also featuring Valley as Batman; all three of these issues have been collected in 2017's Batman: Knightfall Omnibus Vol. 2 or 2018's Batman: Knightquest: The Crusade. Issues #48-49 were chapters of the "Contagion" crossover, and #50 was an anniversary issue with multiple artists; all three issues are collected in 2016's Batman: Contagion.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #0 This is a "jam" issue with about a dozen writers and even more artists, and was released during the "Zero Month" that followed the Zero Hour crossover event. Giarrano drew the framing sequence, if I recall correctly. You can find this one collected in 2017's Batman Zero Hour.

Batman Annual #20 This annual was a "Legends of the Dead Earth" tie-in; that year, DC's annuals were thematically tied together by telling stories set in a far-flung post-apocalyptic future but were all otherwise standalone stories rather than chapters of a bigger mega-story. It was written by Doug Moench. It has never been collected.

Scanning through his credits on comics.org tonight, I see plenty more from Giarrano at DC, some from the later 1980s as well as the 1990s. In addition to his work there, he also drew comics for Marvel, Dark Horse and First. I would certainly be interested in tracking a lot of these down...I'm especially interested in how his style might have changed between the '80s and '90s. His last DC credit seems to be 2002's Batgirl #26. I understand he has long since left comics and gone on to devote himself to painting. He's left a great body of work, though.

Sunday, December 21, 2025

Bookshelf #9

You can tell at a glance what this shelf is devoted to: Batman, and all Batman.

A major chunk of it consists of collections of the Batman: Dark Knight Detective and Batman: Caped Crusader series, devoted to collecting issues of Detective Comics and Batman from the late '80s through the '90s...comics I could have bought off the racks if I were a) reading comics at the time and b) had more than allowance money with which to buy things. (I did already have many of these comics in single issues, but the collections were still well worth buying...counting those Legends of the Dark Knight: Norm Breyfogle collections there, there are probably some Grant/Breyfogle issues from that era that I have three or four versions of now, I guess).

You'll also note what I think is all of, or at least most of, Scott Snyder's run on Batman, starting with a collection of "Black Mirror" from the pages of Detective Comics and Gates of Gotham and then continuing into his run on the New 52 Batman and some of his post-Batman Batman comics. There's also Grant Morrison's Batman Incorporated, which occupies a decent amount of shelf space. 

I've also got two DC Comics/Dark Horse collections, Batman vs. Predator (of which there were three miniseries) and Aliens. The latter includes the Batman/Aliens crossovers (the first with art by Bernie Wrightson!), the ludicrous Superman and Batman vs. Predator and Aliens (not very good at all, but there's something appealing about the bonkers title and attempt to wrangle all that IP into a relatively short story) and WildC.A.T.S./Aliens (because I guess they had to stick that somewhere). I'd recommend buying both if you can find them, as Marvel currently holding the Predator and Aliens licenses means they are unlikely to be collected again any time soon.

Near the end of the shelf, you'll see 2012's Batman: Earth One Vol. 1. I think of DC's Earth One line of original graphic novels every time I hear how great their Absolute line is, and how well those comics are selling. Though obviously quite different, both were attempts at a kinda sorta "Ultimate" DC Universe. Earth One didn't seem to take, while Absolute did. 

There are probably many reasons for this (one being that, at least of the Earth One books I read, only the Wonder Woman ones were really great comics), but Earth One seemed to target the book market and folks who don't regularly read comic book-comics, while Absolute is very much a line of comic book-comics for comics readers. Is that the main factor? I don't know. The first volumes of the Absolute comics are just now starting to come out in collected form, but I don't have any way of telling what collections might be successful outside the direct market...nor do I have any way of telling what comics are doing well inside the direct market either, other than word of mouth and online anecdotes...

Finally, if you're wondering if these are the only Batman trades I have, as you thought I might perhaps have more, based on how often I write about Batman, well, remember, these shelves only contain books from circa 2012-2024 or so. I'm sure I have more on another shelf in another room that we'll get to eventually. 

Thursday, December 18, 2025

On 1998's Batman #551-552, guest-starring Ragman

In 1991, DC published a limited series by Keith Giffen, Robert Loren Fleming and Pat Broderick, starring the relatively obscure character Ragman. Though it was not the first appearance by the character—he was introduced in an extremely short-lived "ongoing" series in 1976 by creators Robert Kanigher and Joe Kubert—it was a pretty good place to start.

After all, this was the first post-Crisis appearance by the character, and writers Giffen and Fleming has revised his origin, giving him a new, mystical nature, and one tied directly to Jewish legend. The eight-issue series wrapped in 1992, and I probably read it sometime that year, as I had bought it in back issues from my local comics shop.

I was still quite new to comic books back then, but I was attracted to the character's name, the book's logo and, especially, the character design (All of which you can see on the cover of the first issue). I'm sure the Gotham City setting and the appearance of Batman late in the series didn't hurt, either. 

That series made me a fan of the character, although there weren't many other Ragman comics to track down at the time (I eventually found 1976's Ragman #1, but none of the four issues that followed it). Still, the character stayed in my head, and he was a character I delighted in drawing sketches of; like the Tim Sale version of The Scarecrow from 1993's Legends of the Dark Knight Halloween Special, Ragman would often appear in the corners or along the edges of various spiral ring notebooks and class handouts in high school and college.

The Giffen/Fleming/Broderick limited series lead to another mini-series by a different creative team, Elaine Lee and Gabriel Morrrissette's 1993-1994 Ragman: Cry of the Dead, probably most notable for featuring gorgeous covers by Joe Kubert, after which point the character re-entered limbo again. 

I kept wishing for a return, though, thinking the fact that he lived in Gotham City meant he had to turn up in one of the Bat-books eventually. I mean, what he was doing during "Knighftall", for example, or "Contagion"? Did Eclipso not try to eclipse him in The Darkness Within? Did history going crazy during Zero Hour or the sun going out in Final Night not affect his neighborhood?

You can imagine my delight, then, when he finally turned up in 1998's Batman #551. Sure, that was just a few years after the last issue of Cry of the Dead, but it's forever in teenager years, and do you have any idea how many different Batman books and comics set in Gotham City that DC had published during those years?

Better still, here Ragman was appearing in a comic drawn by the art team of Kelley Jones and John Beatty, who had already done such an amazing job of drawing whatever guest-stars witer Doug Moench was able to work into the series by this point, like Swamp Thing, Deadman, The Spectre and The Demon. (For the purposes of this review, by the way, I'm rereading Batman #551-552 via digital copy of Batman by Doug Moench and Kelley Jones Vol. 2 borrowed through the library. Same place I found the two-parter featuring The Spectre, which I covered here).

First, it should be noted that, as always, the art is great—if over-the-top in every conceivable way, as is Jones' wont—starting right there on the cover of the first issue (at the top of the post), in which we see Ragman's rags attacking Batman, bending one of his rabbit-like ears in the process. 

Spooky, dramatic and wearing a living costume that is like half billowing cape, Ragman is a character that seems almost as if he was specifically created for Kelley Jones to draw. 

Let's look at a few of Jones and Beatty's renderings of Ragman, shall we...?



While it's of course hard to compete with the images of Ragman terrorizing a Nazi, or that badass image of him as a ragged, living green cape flying through the air, I think I like that last image the best, the way his cape is drawn so large that it seems to fill the room, draping itself over crates.

I like how Jones draws capes, usually Batman's, as gigantic, a bit of artistic flair. I like it even more though when he draws them in such a way to suggest that No, it's not just artistic license, the cape I'm drawing is literally thirty-feet long and twenty-feet wide, see? 

Because Ragman's costume has a life of its own, it makes a certain sense that his cape's size might vary from image to image and move in dramatic, unnatural ways that real fabric might not in real life. In that respect, I think Ragman, like Spawn, is a perfect character for Jones to draw (Sadly though, he he's never drawn Spawn, not even on a variant cover). 

Jones doesn't draw his Ragman with the same prominent "bow" that Broderick did at the front of his cape. You can see some cords dangling from beneath his hood in a few of those panels, but they are not as big and prominent as Broderick drew them; Broderick's bow is a bit more like tentacles crossed with a ribbon on a Christmas gift.

Now Ragman's origin, at least the revised Giffen/Fleming one from 1991, was that each of the rags that comprise his costume is actually a human soul, that of an evildoer that the Ragman has punished and absorbed (Broderick actually depicted this occurring on the actually kinda scary cover to that series' second issue). 

The Ragman costume then, is a sortof  living "suit of souls." It was originally created in 16th century Europe by the same Jewish mystics who had created the legendary Golem of Prague. They eventually deemed the golem a defective defender of the Jewish people, as it lacked a human soul to guide it, so they then created the suit of souls, which could be worn by a human defender. The costume and mantle were thus passed on from champion to champion, ultimately going to Gerry Reganiewicz. 

After World War II, Gerry emigrated to the U.S., where he opened the Rags 'n' Tatters junk shop. But when he was killed by gangsters, his adult son Rory Regan found the suit, becoming the new Ragman, now the sort of spirit of vengeance type of character that populate "universe" comics, not unlike DC's own Spectre or Marvel's '90s iteration of Ghost Rider.

Don't worry; you don't need to know any of this before picking up these comics, as Moench recaps it all elegantly enough in the space of a page or two.

In the two-part Batman story, entitled "Suit of Evil Souls", Regan returns to Gotham City, having apparently been in New Orleans ever since the Cry of the Dead minieseries. The reason for his return is a rather unhappy one: Benjamin Mizrahi, a man who used to visit his junk shop, has just been murdered in his synagogue by a member of the Aryan Reich, a racist prison gang-turned-street gang now terrorizing Regan's old Jewish neighborhood.

Both Batman and Regan-as-Ragman pursue the killers. In fact, the first issue opens with an image of Batman swooping down on one of them:
Batman brings the skinhead he was chasing in. 

While Regan talks to his late friend's rabbi about the Reich and how they have been terrorizing Jews and others in the neighborhood, one of their number throws a brick through the window. Regan and his rags give chase. The rags wrap tightly around the evil man they were pursuing, seeking to smother him, but Regan calls them off, and they form his Ragman costume around him.

After he's dealt with the threat though, some of the rags detach again, rebelling against his control, and they then smother the man to death. To his horror, Regan learns he can no longer control the rags. And, what's worse, the soul of the man they killed turns into another rag in Ragman's suit of souls, adding to their evil, and thus making it still harder for him to control them.

The rest of the story then, will revolve around Regan and his rebellious rags. Apparently, the new hate crimes in the neighborhood are exacerbating the evil in the suit, and Regan's own hatred—his hate of the hatred of others—further affects his control of the suit. 

He asks for help from the rabbi (with whom he shares the story of Ragman, from the suit's creation to his own inheritance of it) and, later, from Batman. 

Meanwhile, Vesper Fairchild, the late-night radio host that Bruce Wayne is falling in love with, has a guest on to talk about the rash of hate crimes, and the Aryan Reich prepare to escalate their murder campaign, opening a new crate of weapons in their headquarters. The guns are, of course, lugers. 

Ultimately, the rabbi's lessons about the power of God's love are enough to help Regan regain his control of the rags, and Batman helps him round up the rest of the gang—without allowing the rags to smother them all to death or let them burn up in a warehouse fire that accidentally starts during the confrontation. 

Luckily, there are less than a half dozen members of the Aryan Reich, so the heroes are able to defeat this particular threat once and for all by the end of the second issue. 

Jones does a great job of depicting the rags themselves as a threat. When they go after their victims, they don't do so in the form of the suit, but as a swarm of individual rags, seemingly growing rigid and flying as if by an agency of their own. 

Not only do they attack their victims by clinging to them, wrapping them up like mummies and suffocating them, but they also hold Regan captive at one point, some binding him at his wrists and ankles, while the others swirl menacingly above him. 
They fly through the air, shattering a window to escape and, in one panel, they form a little tornado shape. 

Obviously, antisemitism and racism aren't so easily defeated in the real world, and so we are obviously still dealing with it today. In fact, it seems worse now than at any other point in my life, with the mainstreaming of various racist conspiracy theories and masks-off appreciation of Nazis (often in the form of nihilistic, irony-soaked "jokes" that give those who espouse them a degree of deniability) being mainstreamed by the right. 

Given that, it was interesting to re-read this 27-year-old story today. That the skinhead gang that plays the villains are Nazis is never in doubt. The first one we meet has a swastika and the words "Hitler Youth" tattooed on his arm. Another has the double-lightning bolt "SS" tattooed on his arm. While one of them holds the rabbi at gunpoint and raves about how Jews always cheat, and how they had apparently "tricked" America into joining the "wrong side" of World War II, Jones super-imposes a realistic image of Adolf Hitler in the panel's background.

The victims are here all Jewish, and the interview scene discusses antisemitism, but the rabbi tells us that it isn't just Jews who are the focus of the gang's predation.
And as for the obviously white Batman, well, as the man he pursues in the first issue's opening scene tells him, "And if you're siding with them-- --It's time you were stomped too!"

I don't think Moench ever uses the word "white" though, nor "white supremacy" to describe the Aryan Reich, which is too bad, I think, as I would prefer "white supremacy" be as directly linked to racism and Nazism as much and as often as possible, personally. I wonder if there's a space here in America where people stake out their own thinking as pro-white (rather than anti-Black or anti-Jewish, etc) and, in their minds at least, wall it off from racism or Nazism, despite how close those thoughts might be, or how the former might lead to the latter.

At any rate, Moench has the Aryan Reich refer several times to the "pure" man, as opposed to the white man. 

Moench obviously paints with a very broad brush here—this is mainstream superhero comics, after all, and from a time when a lot of kids were still reading them—and some of the story might seem a bit preachy. Especially the radio interview section, which is essentially a little lecture in the form of a scene.

In fact, in 1998, I might have thought that villains were a little bit too cartoonish to be realistic, but, well, here it is 2025, and in the news the week I am writing this post? The Secretary of Defense, who prefers to refer to himself as the "Secretary of War" and has several controversial tattoos associated with the Crusades and white supremacy, has been accused of ordering the illegal killing of survivors of illegal military operations to kill presumably innocent Venezuelan men accused of drug-trafficking. And the President of the United States has been publicly calling African immigrants "garbage" that he doesn't want in this country. 

At this point, our cartoons aren't even as cartoonish as our real-life villains. 

But back to the comics. These two issues comprise a pretty good superhero morality tale, one about the power of God's love to conquer hate...and, as ever, how strong, good men can and should overcome the work of weak, evil men. And the art is great, as Jones and company make great use of two extremely potent comic book character designs. 

The final of these issues, Batman #552, would ultimately prove a significant one. It is actually the final issue of the Moench/Jones/Beatty team, which had begun their run on the title in 1994's #515. The issue's last page has Batman in the Batcave, remarking on strange balls of light drifting through the cave, "some sort of geomagnetic anomaly...the phenomenon known as earthlights? Or something else...?"

No, they were earthlights, of the sort that some people believe sometimes presage earthquakes. The very next issue of Batman would be part of the "Cataclysm" Bat-books crossover about a massive earthquake striking the city, followed by stories bearing an "Aftershocks" logo, followed by a couple of those with a "Road to No Man's Land" logo, and then the start of the "No Man's Land" mega-story/status quo.

And what became of Ragman? 

Well, if he had anything to do with "No Man's Land", DC never showed us what it was. (I presume he continued to defend his own Jewish neighborhood of Gotham throughout that state of affairs just as Tommy Monaghan and his friends defended their neighborhood The Cauldron. In Regan's case, he must have done so completely off-panel, while Hitman at least devoted a single story arc to its cast during "No Man's Land"...that's 1999's #37 and #38 "Dead Man's Land," in which vampires try to move into Gotham City, if you're interested. It's great!).

The next place I remember seeing Ragman was a short story in 1999's Day of Judgment Secret Files and Origins #1, wherein he is part of a group of magical superheroes deciding where to put the Spear of Destiny (There he was drawn by another of my favorite artists, Hitman's John McCrea). He would later appear in 2005's Infinite Crisis lead-in Day of Vengeance, chronicling The Spectre's war against magic, and the 2006-2008, 25-issue Shadowpact series (the magical superhero team book that DC seemed to have been flirting with launching for years), and he seems to have appeared in the final issues of the New 52 Batwoman for a bit, although I didn't read that. 

As a headliner, this version of Ragman's last appearance was in the 2010 one-shot Ragman: Suit of Souls by Christos Gage and Stephen Segovia. In 2017, writer Ray Fawkes and artist Inaki Miranda were responsible for a six-issue Ragman series that gave the hero a new origin and new, much blander look. As that last series fell between the New 52 reboot and the Death Metal de-reboot, whether it's now meant to be canonical or not, I can't say.

Personally, I liked it better when DC rebooted their continuity only once every generation or so. 

Wednesday, December 17, 2025

Another Mothman

This week I received an early Christmas gift from my co-worker, the talented artist (and fellow cryptid enthusiast) Gillian DiPofi. 

It is, as you can see, a framed watercolor painting of our favorite cryptid, Mothman, looking somewhere between creepy and socially awkward, as the best Mothmans should.

She also gave me a smaller, more festive Mothman painting, in which the big guy looks ready for the holiday:

To see more of her work, check out her Instagram page here

Monday, December 15, 2025

The comics that first got me into comics














Some thoughts...

•These are not the first comics I had ever read. Those would have been the funnies pages of the Ashtabula Star Beacon and the Cleveland Plain Dealer, the little comics that came packed with Masters of the Universe figures in the 1980s and Marvel's Return of the Jedi adaptation. Rather, these are the fist comics I read that led to me wanting to read more comics, the ones that got me hooked on particular series, creators and characters.

•I know I've written about this before, but DC's Advanced Dungeons & Dragons #2, featuring art by Jan Duursema, is what really got me interested in comics as a teenager. I was home sick with walking pneumonia, and my mom had bought me a copy; she and my grandmother had always bought me comics when I was sick, apparently thinking they were the kid equivalent of a magazine. I remember the cover images of some of them quite well, still, and, thanks to the Internet I can identify some of them, like Justice League of America #215G.I. Joe #44, and Transformers #17. I'm sure there was a Spider-Man in there somewhere, too.

•While some of those cover images were strong enough to embed themselves in my young mind well enough that I can recall them some 35 years later, none of those comics made me want to read another one. But a few months after reading AD&D #2, I happened to be in Perry's Park Street News with my dad, and I noticed AD&D #7 on a spinner rack. The cast had changed somewhat, the setting was different, the characters had all changed clothes (something that seemed unique to me, given the comics I had previously read, as G.I. Joes and superheroes didn't ever change their clothes) and, for the first time, I found myself wanting to find out how comic book characters got from point A to point B. I started reading the book monthly after that, making it the first comic book series I read.

The Complete Frank Miller Batman and Stacked Deck: The Greatest Joker Stories Ever Told were fancy hardcovers that I bought in the book department of a local department store, which was a thing that still existed in 1989. Both books were presumably published to capitalize on increased Batman interest associated with the movie. They could not be more different, as the former contained Batman: Year One and The Dark Knight Returns, (Plus a story that Miller had drawn for 1980's DC Special Series #21, a Christmas story penned by Denny O'Neil, which stood out like a sore thumb). Rather than seminal, mature epics, the latter was a collection of Joker stories from the Golden Age to the '80s, culled from various monthly Bat-books and not, like, I don't know, I guess Batman: The Killing Joke and Arkham Asylum might have been the Joker-focused equivalent of Year One and DKR...

•Interestingly, neither of these were published by DC Comics, or even Warner Books, which I've seen listed as the publisher of some of the earliest DC trade paperbacks I've come across. Instead, they were from Longmeadow Press. How strange it now seems that bound comic books were once such a rarity in the book market that a publisher like DC didn't even publish their own collections back then. 

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles #37 was the first issue of the series I bought new off the rack after having read and reread Mirage's Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The Collected Book Vol. 1, which contained the first 11 issues of the series and each of the four "micro-series" one-shots. From that point, I started reading the ongoing series backwards through back-issue bins and forward as new issues were released...based, at first, on whether or not I liked the covers. At that point, the book was in a very weird place, having essentially become a very random anthology series from guest-creators.

TMNT #37 was by Rick McCollum and Bill Anderson. The former penciled, the latter inked, and they shared the writing credit. I loved that issue, and their extremely idiosyncratic art style and unusual take on the characters. They also did TMNT #42 and a series of shorts that appeared in the 1991 full-color Turtle Soup mini-series.

•That Robin trade collects the original Chuck Dixon, Tom Lyle and Bob Smith Robin mini-series plus a three-issue Batman arc by Alan Grant, Norm Breyfogle and Steve Mitchell (That Batman arc was my first exposure to what would become my favorite Batman creative team, and one of my favorite all-time pencil artists). That's eight issues total. And the cost of that trade paperback? Just $4.95. I know 1991 was a long time ago and all, but damn, to think that trade paperback collections were ever so cheap...!

•After three years then, I was reading AD&D and Sandman monthly, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles whenever it came out, whatever Batman comics looked good to me (including a lot of Grant/Breyfogle/Mitchell books from the back-issue bins) and I was starting to dabble with the broader DC Universe, thanks to Armageddon 2001, the bookends of which I eventually read. Then came 1992, "The Death of Superman", Spawn, DC's Eclipso: The Darkness Within annual event, Robin II: The Joker's Wild and, well, I had become a regular comic book reader. It would be a few more years before I started visiting a comic shop on a weekly basis for new books, but, by 1992, I was well on my way.

•Looking over these earliest comics I read, the ones that led me to reading other comics, I see some obvious, apparently perennial entry points into comics: Books based on a license (AD&D), books that inspired mass media adaptations and, in these particular cases, a veritable flood of media attention (Batman comics, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles), crossover events (the Armageddon 2001 annuals) and mainstream media coverage (I had read about both Armageddon 2001 and Sandman in the newspaper; an article on Sandman had specifically said that the Special was a good jumping-on point...plus, it had a glow-in-the-dark cover!).

Sunday, December 14, 2025

Bookshelf #8

This week's bookshelf consists of my Archie Comics trades and the start of my modern (that is, those from 2012-2014-ish) DC books, beginning with those featuring the hero one would expect at the vanguard of DC characters.

I should note that, at some point during this period, Archie was sending me review copies, which accounts for some of those Archie books (I did read 'em all, though, and would be happy to discuss any specific ones with any of you.) 

My favorite of these was probably that 200+-page digest collection of She's Josie, featuring as it does tons of superb cartooning from Dan DeCarlo on a comic that has long since been eclipsed by the Josie comic that followed it, Josie and the Pussycats. Speaking of which, I also really enjoyed Marguerite Bennett and company's Josie and The Pussycats Vol. 1, and those three collections of the Jughead book by Chip Zdarsky, Erica Henderson, Ryan North, Derek Charm and company.

As for the Superman side of the shelf, I think that Dark Horse Comics/DC Comics: Superman collection is probably the most "valuable" to me. Its 400+ pages collect Superman crossovers with Tarzan, Mike Allred's Madman and two different Aliens crossovers. It's of course out of print now, and while I'm not sure who happens to hold the Tarzan license (or is the big guy public domain at this point?), Marvel currently holds the Aliens license and is thus unlikely to republish those crossovers. 

This little corner of the bookshelf also holds 2018's Superman: Blue Vol. 1, collecting the first chunk of the "Electric" Superman saga of the '90s that I failed to follow in singles at the time, and that same year's Superboy Book One: Trouble in Paradise, featuring the first ten issues of the '90s Superboy and the #0 issue. 

I was hoping both would lead to second volumes, eventually collecting the entire Electric Superman storyline (I would really like to read the entirety of the Millennium Giants story that concluded it, when a new "Supeman Red" joined the Electric blue Superman) and the rest of Superboy...or at least much of the rest of it (Oh, and Superboy and The Ravers too, please...?)

Unfortunately, like the collections of other '90s series Robin, Catwoman, Aquaman and Green Lantern starring Kyle Rayner, DC seems to have started collecting them but abandoned doing so quicker than I would have liked. 

Finally, seeing those collections of the New 52's Action Comics by Grant Morrison, Rags Morales and company makes me think that it might be worthwhile to revisit those comics at this point, now that the New 52 period is over (and, in terms of DC history, papered over), and they can perhaps be read as a discrete, standalone work, rather than as part of a grand publishing initiative being sold as something meant to replace all that had come before...

Thursday, December 11, 2025

Review: 1995's Lobo/Deadman: The Brave and The Bald

I quite clearly remember seeing the house ads for this 1995 one-shot—that sub-title is a memorable one—but I passed on paying $3.50 on a Lobo one-shot. A fan of writer Alan Grant and artist Simon Bisley, I had previously read the 1990 miniseries the pair did with the character's co-creator Keith Gifffen, as well its 1992 sequel, Lobo's Back and 1991's Lobo Paramilitary Christmas Special. I had read a few of the one-shots (like 1993's Lobo Convention Special, drawn by Kevin O'Neill) and, of course, by the early '90s the character was regularly appearing in DC's crossover events. 

By the time The Brave and The Bald had hit stands, I had heard the character's one-note played often enough—that he is, get this, really, really violent—and would have needed something sort of extraordinary to get me to plop down some of my then precious few dollars on another Lobo comic. (And by that point, Lobo had graduated from miniseries and an endless string of one-shot specials to his own ongoing series, also written by Grant. There was no shortage of Lobo comics available for those who were interested.)

I was reminded of this particular one-shot's existence recently when looking up Deadman titles on comics.org for something else I was blogging about. Since I have been writing about so many '90s comics in the past few months anyway, I figured why not check this book out now? After all, is there anything more '90s than a Lobo one-shot...? 

Now, looking back at this comic from a remove of 30 years, I see there are a couple of things that are sort of unusual about it.

First, Lobo was sharing billing with another character here, something that was a bit rare. In the '90s, the only other times this happened was in 1996's Lobo/Judge Dredd: Psycho-Bikers vs. The Mutants from Hell (by Grant, John Wagner, Val Semeiks and John Dell), Lobo/Demon: Hellaween (by Grant and Vince Giarrano) and 1997's Lobo/Mask (by Grant, John Arcudi, Doug Mahnke and Keith Williams). It wouldn't be until after the turn of the century that we got further Lobo team-ups, featuring Hitman, The Authority, Batman, The Roadrunner and Superman. 

And, as you can see, Lobo/Deadman actually predates all of those, so this was his first team-up comic.

Second, the comic's art was by New Zealand artist Martin Emond. He had a handful of prior Lobo credits, and while his art here differs from that of Simon Bisley in quite a few ways, it very much is following in Bisley's conception of the character as something of a compromise between a cartoon and a heavy metal album cover. 

Finally, Deadman seems like a completely random character to pair with Lobo, the two characters literally coming from different worlds (Earth and Czarnia), different sub-genres (supernatural superhero and sci-fi superhero) and different tones (serious melodrama and brash, broad parody). I don't think they had ever crossed paths before this, and I don't think they ever crossed paths since (Although given all the crisis comics DC has published in the last 40 years or so, chances are they both appeared in crowd scenes within the same issue of some comic or other).

Grant and Emond divide their story into three distinct chapters, and there are several surprises of one sort or another, although I will go ahead and spoil the last and biggest surprise, as you've already had 30 years to read this comic unspoiled.

In this first chapter, Lobo is speeding towards Earth on his flying space motorcycle (or a "far-out fragger of a space hawg," in Lobo's words), talking to the reader through the device of a little alien hitchhiker he has picked up (and will ultimately leave hanging from its tied-together antennae from a satellite. This being a Lobo comic, the setting is very much of a painted-looking Looney Tunes sort, with a floating sign pointing an arrow toward Earth.

Lobo is headed to Earth on a bounty-hunting job, and if he's not excited, then at least his interest in piqued:
This guy I gotta arrest sounds like a real hard dude--an' I ain't never met no hard dudes from Earth afore!

'Ceptin' Etrigan The Demon, of course. But he ain't really from Earth...

An' he ain't all that hard, either!
By this point, Lobo has thrown hands with Green Lantern Guy Gardner, Captain Marvel and Superman before, so apparently none of those powerhouses count as hard dudes. As for Etrigan, it's worth noting that Grant wrote The Demon for about 40 issues between 1990 and 1993, and if Lobo and Etrigan weren't exactly friends, they were at least frenemies, showing up in one another's books (And sharing that Hellaween one-shot mentioned above, which I had bought and read for Grant's name and Giarrano's art, although it must not have been very good, as I don't remember anything at all about it now; maybe taht's another old '90s comic I should revisit...). 

Meanwhile, Deadman is floating above a map of the United States, in a very uncomfortable looking, folded-up position. (He is, of course, the "Bald" in The Brave and The Bald). Emond's Deadman looks a bit like Carmine Infantino's original design for the character, and a bit like the emaciated corpse version Kelley Jones drew in 1989's Deadman: Love After Death. He's extremely boney, maybe even skeletal, but doesn't quite look rotten in the same way Jones' does. Also, Emond's version of his long, pointed collar trails off into thread thin curlicues.
Emond's work with Deadman is perhaps the most visually interesting aspect of the book. 

I found his rendering of the ghost a little off-putting, as, in terms of color and texture, Deadman seems to be made of the same "stuff" as everyone and everything else in the comic. There's no visual indicator that he may actually be a ghost, or made of ectoplasm or something, so it looks kind of weird and wrong when Emond draws him climbing into a particular body to possess it. It looks a bit more like they are just being smoothed together, rather than Deadman going inside the person.
You can also see this on the cover, where Deadman's arm is extending through Lobo's chest, but Lobo's flesh also seems to be poking out along with the arm, suggesting some sort of stretchiness to Lobo's body, rather than Deadman simply sticking his insubstantial arm through Lobo's quite substantial chest.

While Emond's Deadman may look as solid as Lobo and the other non-ghost characters, he's unnatural looking in the way he moves, constantly stretching and bending, his limbs often extending behind him and resembling long strings of spaghetti or, perhaps given the red of his suit, licorice. More than once while reading this I found myself wishing Emond had drawn a Plastic Man comic before he had passed away.  

According to his narration, Deadman's therapist has said he needs a vacation, and so he heads for Pismo  Bizmo Beach. He proceeds to take over the body of an apparently good-looking "skurfer" (That's "sky" + "surf") and is in the process of enjoying having oil rubbed on him by various beach babes when their boyfriends from the Steroid Biker gang arrive. A fight ensues, Deadman body-hopping in order to defeat the bad guys.

After a few pages of Lobo wandering around the beach, giving Grant a few scenes to play the hyper-violent "Main Man" off of Californian beachgoers, he arrives at the fray, and we begin chapter two, and the first of those surprises.

Deadman is the bounty that Lobo is hunting! I suppose that should have been obvious from the title, huh? But it still surprised me. This panel, by the way, features what is my favorite joke in the comic, the "Wanted: Alive!!" poster for Deadman.

Okay, maybe it's not much of a joke, but I liked it...

Lobo is armed with a spook-detector and a spook-collector with which to find and capture Deadman, but it is ultimately Deadman who captures Lobo, taking over his body...although not without some difficulty, due to Lobo's alien physiology and single-minded will ("His mind is a seething cauldron of undifferentiated rage, hatred and boredom...Somewhere, really ugly heavy metal music is playing.") 

In order to find out who put a price on his head, Deadman-in-Lobo's body flies to the meet point in outer space...only to be Boom Tube-ed to Apokolips, which is the other, bigger surprise: It is Darkseid who hired Lobo to capture Deadman!

Well, in actuality, it is one of Darkseid's minions. Not Desaad, but a new, original-to-this-book one, a Doctor Kroolman. (If you're wondering why Grant made up a new New God for this story rather than using Desaad or someone, well, this is a Lobo comic, so you can probably guess how it will ultimately turn out for the villain, and obviously this isn't the place to lose valuable IP). 

What does Kroolman want with Deadman? Well, his is a rather weird, though amusingly audacious, plan and, refreshingly, it isn't just another attempt to secure the Anti-Life Equation. We'll get to said plan in a moment.

As Deadman-in-Lobo fights his way through hordes of Parademons—which Emond draws as bat-winged demons from his own imagination, rather than hewing to Jack Kirby's designs—he accidentally uses the gun on his hip, which is the spook-collector, and thus Deadman gets sucked out of Lobo and trapped, ready for delivery to Kroolman. 

The trapped Deadman is a great image, by the way. Here are the first few images of him in the collector, a tiny little head, pair of hands and a mass of red squiggles:
It's only after Kroolman tricks Lobo into accepting a hit on himself—which, unable to ever go back on his word, he goes through with, killing himself to complete the contract—that Kroolman finally explains his plan to Lobo:
Both you and Deadman have been to Heaven. Therefore, you must know your way back--not consciously, perhaps, but deep down inside you--on the spiritual level.

By interrogating Deadman, and matching his buried knowledge with yours, I will be able to locate it with pinpoint precision!
And why does Kroolman want to get to Heaven? Well, he explains, in order for Darkseid to be "the one true God", he has to unlock the secrets of the old gods, secrets that can be found in Heaven. 

So Apokolips plans to make war on Heaven. (I have to assume in an earlier draft of the script, Grant had Kroolman saying something about Darkseid trying to bump off God and take his place, which seems more direct than this business about finding secrets, but maybe DC balked at that). 
Once they're both dead, Lobo and Deadman finally meet face to face, and they do not get along. Kroolman uses his special equipment to start disassembling the pair's spirits but, as the stars of superhero comics so often do, they manage to escape the— Well, I was going to say "death trap", but I suppose that's not quite the right word, since at that point they are both already dead.

Suffice it to say that the guys whose names are in the title are not erased from existence, and the villains' plans to conquer Heaven never come to pass. This is thanks to a pep talk from Lobo ("'S loser talk...dude!"), Deadman's possession abilities and the stupidity of a henchman (Although to be fair to that henchman, I would have done the exact same thing had I found myself in his circumstances).

In the end, Kroolman dies, Lobo flicks off Darkseid and gives him the business and, after a few more neat images of Deadman, he walks off into the background of a panel, one ridiculously long leg trailing behind him as a raincloud forms above his head. 
While there are definitely some fun elements to the book—and I suppose it's something of a must-read for fans of Deadman, if only to see Emond's rather unique take on him—it's still very much one of Alan Grant's Lobo comics, and thus your mileage may vary, depending on how funny you happen to find Lobo. 

Do take that into consideration if you decide you might want to track this book down. It hasn't been collected, so doing so would require either finding a back issue or turning to Amazon's Comixology. 

I do feel it is something of a waste of the "Brave and The Bald" joke, though. I think that might have been better suited to a Lex Luthor team-up book, as baldness is associated with Lex in a way that it isn't with Deadman, even if, yes, Deadman is technically bald...