After the Marvel mayhem of last week, it's time for a return to solemnity with
DC Showcase # 69, which offers us a sobering look at the many ways in which vacuous people attempt to fill their shallow lives, not realizing that their shallow lives can never be filled because of how deep the despair is inside all that shallowness. How that's possible, I have no idea. Maybe it involves some kind of emotional space warp or existential pocket universe.
The Maniaks are a group of young minstrels who may appear on the surface to be having lighthearted fun, but are in the fact each of them walking desperate cries for help.
First, we open with one of the members, Flip, standing on the ledge of a building. As police try to dissuade him from jumping, he is so distraught that he is unable to admit that it is a suicide threat, and makes the claim that he is merely taking a walk on the ledge. This sort of transference is common among people desperate for any kind of relief from despair. They want the other people to notice their pain, not to have to point it out themselves.
We then meet other members of the band, such as Jangles. He is so empty and devoid of a sense of identity that he has become expert at doing impressions, to such a degree he can even alter his head to look like a dog's head or a giant firecracker. He wants to be anything besides himself. Pack Rat, the drummer, may be emotionally the most healthy of the band, as he has learned to let out his frustrations when he "pounds skins".
Silver Shannon is the band's lead singer, and possibly the most troubled, singing a song in which she blankly repeats "I'm going down the road feeling bad cause I got me a pebble in my shoe", lyrics that would make Nico seem perky by comparison. Most of the plot of this issue involves her attempts to fill the yawning chasm in her soul with worldly possessions, even convincing herself to marry a man for his wealth. We are shown his many possessions, none of which can satisfy Silver, so deep is the yawning chasm of unhappiness within her shallow soul, and so shallow are her values that make her deeply unhappy. As she says, "What good is happiness? It can't buy money!"
A dark, disturbing look at the disenfranchised youth of the late sixties and their increasing disassociation and disaffection. All the vices brought on by existential pain are explored here, including womanizing, gambling, and using slang. Highly recommended for its sharp observations about twentieth century alienation, but afterward you might want to perk yourself up with a nice lighthearted Ingmar Bergman movie.
"There came a time when the old gods died!"
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