Back when I was a kid, me and my buddies felt naked without a rolled up comic book in our back pocket. They were like gold; we were down in the dumps when we didn’t have the latest issue of Action Comics, and on top of the world when we did. We’d spend days wondering what it’d be like to be The Phantom, or even Superman himself. But you forget that kid stuff when the grind closes in and you leave all that behind in the hazy summer days of boyhood.
When The Librarian tossed a comic book in my lap one day and told me to study it closely and prepare to cross over into the truly weird places between the cracks in the world, I snorted and looked at him sideways.