The Master of Quack Fu

I love me some Howard the Duck, but the book always worked best when it avoided explicit superhero parodies.
The weakest issues in the series were parodies of other Marvel titles. Sure, “Iron Duck” and the “Master of Quak Fu” made for some great cover art, but the stories were tepid (Howard as “Son of Satan” is the exception.)
The third issue is intended as a lampoon of the kung fu craze of the mid 1970s. The problem is that writer Steve Gerber doesn’t really know what he thinks about the fad. Howard, of course, hates it, but Gerber can’t eloquently explain why, and the book frequently contradicts itself.
The story begins with Howard and Beverly leaving a kung fu movie. Howard is clearly disgusted by the violence in the film, calling it “training for the local troops.” He also takes issue with Hollywood exploiting as “ancient tradition” for its own end as he stands on the street shouting at people. All he needs is a box to stand on with the word “soap” written on it.
Anyway, the kung fu craze gets out of control when, at a local diner, Howard and Bev see a character named "Count Macho" (based on Count Dante, who ran numerous ads in comics in the 1970s) kill an overzealous karate fan.
Early in the issue, Howard proclaims that people who enjoy violence "don't have the mental equipment to be sure they exists." So what does he do when Count Macho kidnaps Bev? He takes a crash course in kung fu so that he can fight back. Like all good liberals (and conservatives, for that) Howard's real concern isn't his own ability to process reality ... it's everyone else's. He thinks he lives in a world of idiots, which is probably true. He simply can't recognize that he's an idiot, too.
I'm not really sure what Gerber's message here, was. It begins as a slam against kung fu movies, but the story would have felt at home in a Shaw Brothers picture. Howard abhors violence, but turns to it the first chance he gets. Because the story has no intellectual center to argue from, the issue feels like nothing more than propaghanda.
The issue features guest art by John Buscema. Frank Brunner quit after two issues when Marvel passed on a requested pay raise. It was their loss ... Brunner is a fantastic artist.

Howard the Duck #8

Don’t blame me, I voted for Howard the Duck

If the Bronze Age of Comics has a patron saint, it's Howard the Duck,a character that represented the fixations of a subculture that was comprised equally of former hippies, grade-school children, jaded commercial artists, and prison inmates.
Howard the Duck, like all of Marvel’s best work, was an act of utter desperation. A stable, profitable industry simply doesn’t give characters like Howard the Duck their own book (similar situations were responsible for such risk-taking ventures as Spider-Man and the international X-Men team.) But desperation is the lifeblood of the comics industry … you can almost watch as collective creativity rises and falls with America’s economy. The best comics are usually written under the worst situations, mostly because there’s a lot less to lose when it all blows up in your face.
And there was nothing like Howard the Duck when you were in the mood for in-your-face outbursts. From the beginning Howard was angry, pretentious, funny, preachy, left-wing fun that made as much (or as little) sense as the average superhero comic. The book began as a perverse parody of superhero books, pitting Howard against such inanities as the cosmic accountant Pro-Rata and the amorous Space Turnip, but the book quickly fell into elements that loaned themselves more freely to social commentary. After a few quick jabs at writers, psychologists, cultists, and the legal system, Howard slipped and fell into slimiest arena of them all: politics.
It remains one of the most fascinating comicbook-related publicity stunts to date, certainly more witty and interactive than the 1-900-KILL-ROBIN stunt DC pulled in the late ‘80s. Writer Steve Gerber set up a small presidential campaign for Howard, following it within the pages of the comic as he sold campaign buttons and openly platformed for the duck on the letters page.
The story began like most Howard the Duck story arcs. Down on his luck and more than a little bored with life, Howard agrees to run as a presidential candidate for the All-Nite Party, a new political party whose motive for backing a talking duck seems dubious, at best. Even Howard thinks there’s something hinky about the whole situation but agrees to loan his face and voice to the campaign because it seems like something interesting to do.
Howard being who he is, he immediately begins to draw all the wrong kids of attention. A contract is put out on his life, and soon assassins begin killing each other for the right to fulfill the contract (Howard only vaguely wonders why bodies keep falling from buildings wherever he goes.) Regardless of not having a platform, political experience, or even American citizenship, Howard quickly begins to top the polls, hedging out Gerald Ford and Jimmy Carter in the ’76 election.
Things fall apart, as they always do, when a sex scandal shakes Howard out of the running. A photo of Howard and his … er, “companion” Beverly is leaked to the press, showing them taking a bath together. The photo is a poorly made forgery, taped together from separate images, but it doesn’t matter. Howard loses his support and the election, and moves on to his next adventure (well, actually he goes insane in the next story arc, but that’s not really relevant here.)

Marvel recently dusted off Howard for a new mini-series (*cough* … economic depression) but arrived a little early to take full advantage of the latest presidential debacle. It would have been nice to see Howard back in the political ring, especially with such high-minded rivals like John "Bomb Iran" McCain, and Barack "What, Me Worry?" Obama. That’s the great thing about comics and politics, though … tomorrow always brings new issues.