
“I don’t drink beer cause it doesn’t make me feel well, and I need every brain cell I’ve been given. And I don’t drink beer, I don’t mean to be overcautious, but the bitter taste makes me nauseous. I don’t drink beer.” From I Don’t Drink Beer, written by Tim Hawkins.
Just as the song above suggests, I do not drink beer… pretty much for the reasons Tim Hawkins noted. Besides, I’ve got low blood pressure and the one time I got drunk I just sat glowering in the corner and frightening the hell out of my friends. I was sixteen at that time, and that’s one of the few life lessons I’ve kept rattling around in my brainpan for the past six decades. However, like most everything that the Swells had deemed low-class, I fully appreciate beer culture.
Back in my sainted hometown of Chicago, just 90 miles south from the town that Schlitz thinks it made famous, the brewer built fifty “tied-houses” between 1897 and 1905 — saloons that sold only Schlitz beer — throughout the Midwest. The architecture was such that a large Schlitz logo was built into the motif and were decorated in colored terracotta. 10 such tied-houses remain in Chicago to this day, and on this day, not a one is serving Schlitz at all.
Granted, most haven’t served beer in years, but those that are still selling suds aren’t serving the beer that made Milwaukee famous. Schlitz went blooie this past weekend. Continue reading “Brainiac On Banjo: Schlitz Hits The Fan”















The comment expressed in our headline above was made by the fabled Jules Feiffer in his groundbreaking 1965 book
I don’t know if the kids who were reading comics at the every end of 1939 were ready for that. Within two years the series was lightened up by a bumbling guardian angel called “Percival Popp, the Super Cop.” Think Frank Capra, but stupid. The Spectre became a founding member of the Justice Society, but when World War II ended he was out of the group, out of More Fun, and living off of Officer Popp’s police pension.
But the guy still remained in the hearts of DC’s creative community. Editor Joe Orlando needed a new lead for Adventure Comics, so he brought in Michael Fleisher and Jim Aparo and let them go nuts. The Spectre took this “vengeance of God” thing to a fundamentalist level, and he would kill the bad guys with such creative cruelty that they might have made EC artist “Ghastly” Graham Ingles genuflect at his porcelain throne. It was great. And it lasted 10 issues.
So it was with absolutely no surprise whatsoever that I stumbled across a DC Digital First thing called Ghosts. At first I thought that odd — thus far they hadn’t done resurrections of their mystery anthologies in their new digital line. Then I saw “Ghosts” was just another way of saying “The Spectre” and then I noted it was written by Dan Jurgens.


