Shrieking Parts 1 and 2 (ASM 390-391)
Nothing says “collector’s edition” like a polybag. Don’t ever open it though, unless you want to devalue your incredible 90’s comic book investment!! Mine are unopened, so I’ll still be able to retire at 55.
Open at your own risk, moron!
On the bright side, if you didn’t think it through and opened the polybag to read the damn book (i.e., like some sort of degenerate) at least a polybag provides you with a convenient way of asphyxiating yourself because I didn’t know about you but I’d rather be dead than have a collection with opened polybags or with missing tattoo inserts or with free Kool-Aid samples already used.
Those are all real fucking things by the way, and yes, it cost me an extra $100 to buy a copy of Amazing Spider-Man 238 with the fucking tattooz still in it. And yes, it is spelled with a zed. But more on that later. Right now, let’s talk about polybags.
In the 90’s it was ALL THE RAGE to have your comic book come pre-sealed inside a special collector’s edition polybag. Hell, it worked for Spider-Man (1990) #1, so why not apply that same magic to any old random book? No, wait, fuck that. Let’s apply it to four Spider-Man comic books in the same month!
Now, you’re probably thinking “oh come now. Polybags are totally sick, because you’ll get a poster or something.” Yeah, or “something”. In Amazing Spider-Man 390, the polybag version came with a flyer promoting the new Spider-Man animated series on Fox, which, okay, was a totally amazing show. But the real treat was an “Animation Style Print based on the show”! That sounds awesome, until you actually read the words again but carefully this time and realize that, no, you’re not getting an animation cell. What you’re getting is a drawing on a piece of clear acetate that never appears in the show, and in fact, only really resembles the show when viewed from afar while squinting.
Marvel, you must think I’m a joke. The design for Venom from that show was totally different than the drawing you gave me in the polybag.
So that’s my “or something.”But now, to get my animation cell that isn’t really an animation cell, I’ve opened the fucking polybag. So, for my complete collection, I need another copy with the bag still sealed. Yeah, I have two copies, because I’m not some filthy casual. It’s comic collecting—go compulsive or go home, that’s what I say.
Oh wait, did I say I have two copies? Because I have THREE copies, because there’s also a non-polybagged version that has a differently coloured cover. So fuck me, I need that one too. Same goes for every Spider-Man title that month.
The lazy man's variant... using the gold paint bucket tool! Total time spent: 25 seconds.
The one on the right is the "unopened" variant.
Luckily, though they were common, things like polybags didn’t happen all the time in the 90’s, so there would be months and months where a comic would only have one version of the cover. Those were the days. It’s not like the modern comic book limited edition variant cover dumpsterfire bullshit bonanza you see on the shelves every Wednesday nowadays. Back then, it was a neat gimmick that kids loved and that forced hardcore collectors to buy two copies.
It wasn’t just comics doing this. The creator of Mad Magazine once said in an interview that part of the genius behind that Mad Fold-In cover is that serious collectors would buy two copies of the magazine, since folding the cover in on itself to see the joke would mean that the book is no longer pristine. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, Mad Magazine’s back cover used to feature a drawing that, when you folded it inwards so that the little arrows lined up, would reveal a hidden picture and the text at the bottom would say something funny or perverted, like “What, me worry?” or “Bill Cosby”.
Once you move on with your life and get your copy of Shrieking, part 1, out of the polybag, you are quickly submerged into Spider-Man’s psychotic nightmare. The art is dark and desperate. I love it. He’s broken into his dead best friend’s house so he can claw at the painting of his dead best friend's face. We also see Shriek, writhing in agony in her padded cell, and Malcolm MacBride (Carrion) who can’t close his eyes without seeing piles of corpses. Everyone is in hell. Especially me, because this story is continuing a thread set up by, you guessed it, Maximum Carnage, the bane of every kid who could only afford 1 comic book a month and could therefore only afford to read part of the story that every Spider-Man comic book for the next few years would be referencing. Hope you didn’t miss out, jackass!
The cold violence continues in Shrieking part 2. There are a couple highlights, like one of my favourite Mark Bagley Spider-Man drawings of all time, as well as the first appearance of Spider-Man’s Ravencroft photo ID card (the picture is of him with his mask on!) Speculators go get it!
Those are all real fucking things by the way, and yes, it cost me an extra $100 to buy a copy of Amazing Spider-Man 238 with the fucking tattooz still in it. And yes, it is spelled with a zed. But more on that later. Right now, let’s talk about polybags.
In the 90’s it was ALL THE RAGE to have your comic book come pre-sealed inside a special collector’s edition polybag. Hell, it worked for Spider-Man (1990) #1, so why not apply that same magic to any old random book? No, wait, fuck that. Let’s apply it to four Spider-Man comic books in the same month!
Now, you’re probably thinking “oh come now. Polybags are totally sick, because you’ll get a poster or something.” Yeah, or “something”. In Amazing Spider-Man 390, the polybag version came with a flyer promoting the new Spider-Man animated series on Fox, which, okay, was a totally amazing show. But the real treat was an “Animation Style Print based on the show”! That sounds awesome, until you actually read the words again but carefully this time and realize that, no, you’re not getting an animation cell. What you’re getting is a drawing on a piece of clear acetate that never appears in the show, and in fact, only really resembles the show when viewed from afar while squinting.
Marvel, you must think I’m a joke. The design for Venom from that show was totally different than the drawing you gave me in the polybag.
"Animation Style" Print = Fake Animation Cell
So that’s my “or something.”But now, to get my animation cell that isn’t really an animation cell, I’ve opened the fucking polybag. So, for my complete collection, I need another copy with the bag still sealed. Yeah, I have two copies, because I’m not some filthy casual. It’s comic collecting—go compulsive or go home, that’s what I say.
Oh wait, did I say I have two copies? Because I have THREE copies, because there’s also a non-polybagged version that has a differently coloured cover. So fuck me, I need that one too. Same goes for every Spider-Man title that month.
The lazy man's variant... using the gold paint bucket tool! Total time spent: 25 seconds.
The one on the right is the "unopened" variant.
Luckily, though they were common, things like polybags didn’t happen all the time in the 90’s, so there would be months and months where a comic would only have one version of the cover. Those were the days. It’s not like the modern comic book limited edition variant cover dumpsterfire bullshit bonanza you see on the shelves every Wednesday nowadays. Back then, it was a neat gimmick that kids loved and that forced hardcore collectors to buy two copies.
It wasn’t just comics doing this. The creator of Mad Magazine once said in an interview that part of the genius behind that Mad Fold-In cover is that serious collectors would buy two copies of the magazine, since folding the cover in on itself to see the joke would mean that the book is no longer pristine. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, Mad Magazine’s back cover used to feature a drawing that, when you folded it inwards so that the little arrows lined up, would reveal a hidden picture and the text at the bottom would say something funny or perverted, like “What, me worry?” or “Bill Cosby”.
Once you move on with your life and get your copy of Shrieking, part 1, out of the polybag, you are quickly submerged into Spider-Man’s psychotic nightmare. The art is dark and desperate. I love it. He’s broken into his dead best friend’s house so he can claw at the painting of his dead best friend's face. We also see Shriek, writhing in agony in her padded cell, and Malcolm MacBride (Carrion) who can’t close his eyes without seeing piles of corpses. Everyone is in hell. Especially me, because this story is continuing a thread set up by, you guessed it, Maximum Carnage, the bane of every kid who could only afford 1 comic book a month and could therefore only afford to read part of the story that every Spider-Man comic book for the next few years would be referencing. Hope you didn’t miss out, jackass!
Ugh! What an ugly couple of goblins!
The cold violence continues in Shrieking part 2. There are a couple highlights, like one of my favourite Mark Bagley Spider-Man drawings of all time, as well as the first appearance of Spider-Man’s Ravencroft photo ID card (the picture is of him with his mask on!) Speculators go get it!
Of course I'm the real Spider-Man! I'm the one and only! Do you think that just anyone can put on a Spider-Man costume? Look, it's me! In the picture! No, it's not just my Costco Membership!
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