Keep Russ Abbott in the madhouse and let Gnasher out of the kennel.

In social climes, it can be as difficult to extract yourself from a conversation as it is to inaugurate one. Chatting to a local recently, and with a pause in proceedings, I enquired as to his favourite comic from his childhood. He commenced on a long ramble about Groucho Marx and Tommy Trinder, completely missing my point and giving me the same feeling of emptiness I get when slowing down on the M25 after spotting a Police car in the distance, only to realise a few minutes later that I am actually crawling past a vehicle from the Highways Agency.
Despite my protestations that I meant ‘reading’ comic, he was in full flow and I had to endure an elongated comedy connections one-man show taking in the sights of Tommy Cooper, Bernard Manning and, worryingly, Russ Abbot.
I had earlier that day taken a post work sojourn to London Colney Sainsbury’s to buy my daughters a comic. It is a fair summation today that the UK comic industry across the board has gone up in price and hugely down in content despite the gloss. It is all about fooling the child with aesthetics doing away with substance. It is the product equivalent of being trapped in a lift with a supermodel. The awe lasts 30 seconds before you’ve read what is in front of you from cover to cover and realise there’s precious little between the pages.
As a child it was the highlight of my week hearing the dull thud of the Beano, Dandy or Whizzer and Chips on the doormat prior to bounding down the wooden ladder 3 steps at a time to feast on classics such as ‘Wheelchair Danny’ and ‘Beat your neighbour’.
To be fair, it is unlikely that the crop from the 70’s and 80’s would pass current day censors. More likely the east offended would start a petition and call for a ban to be implemented. To be fair they may have a point when looking at the social constructs of the characters. Either that or they could politicise it and relaunch Viz as ‘Vaz’, and caricature a serious career politician who becomes embroiled in numerous japes with A class drugs and gentlemen of ill repute (allegedly).
The Whizzer strips including ‘Beat your neighbour’ was about 2 warring families. One thin and desirable, the others fat and scruffy. Wheelchair Wonder was a heart-warming yarn of a 15-year-old top league footballer who was so ill he was wheelchair bound throughout the week. Come 3pm on a Saturday he would muster some strength, get out the chair confines and bang in a hat trick or two for the team, prior to collapsing through over exertion and being wheelchair bound for the next 6 days and 22.5 hours. As a 2D role model he was one of the greats, inspiring legions of benefit cheats who perform such miracles and are exposed weekly by the Daily Mail.
I guess the downturn in comic joy can be lay at two doors. Firstly, the politically correct brigade who have, rightly or wrongly, ushered us away from characters with attributes that are now unmockable, be they big ears, or are camp or overweight. Secondly is the financial bottom line with most publishers now having a stable of comics catering for a range of diverse child target markets. Gone are the days of limited choice sadly and its goodbye Bunty, Judy, Victor, the Beezer, Lord Snooty and Sid the Sexist and Hello Lego, Peppa Pig and the Simpsons.
For me, I will be buying job lots of old comics from boot sales for my kids to enjoy. That’s the plan until pester power hooks me once again as they are enticed by the free piece of plastic tat as I try to lure them back to the past with my dog eared, moving eyes Gnasher badge.