Wednesday already? Seems like just this morning it was Monday

I don't know what my record is for most erasures on a Weddnesday is, but surely I approached it today. I had ASU for 14A: Scoreboard abbr. for the football team that plays its home games at University of Phoenix Stadium: ARI (I don't know what the record is for longest clue for a three-letter entry is, but Patrick Berry might have broken it here.) I had EURASIAN and then ARTESIAN for 20A: Like the Temple of Artemis (I need to brush up on my mythology; the only Artemis I know is Artemis Gordon off of "The Wild, Wild, West" TV show.) I had EXILE for , mayb59A: An American in Paris maybe: EXPAT, and ALIST for 57A: How beer mugs are held while pouring: ATILT. When I had DU__YPANSY (The U was wrong but I didn't know it at the time) I almost put DUSTYPANSY, which actually fit the theme but I couldn't think of any circumstances under which dusty could mean good-looking. And I became extremely attached (even though I know better) to TELLSOFF at 51A: Scolds angrily BAWLSOUT.

But that's okay. I really enjoyed this puzzle. I had a pretty good idea of the theme just from the title (Double Y'ed Trailers) but it wasn't until I was almost finished that I noticed the puzzle had an extra layer of elegance. It wasn't just two-word phrases both ending in the letter Y. It was two-word phrases both ending in Y where you could remove both of the Y's and still have a well-known two-word phrase.
Like so:

18A: Type of humor used in a sex farce? (STEAMYIRONY)
25A: Feel bad for the mean kid (PITYBULLY)
42A: What many inspirational sports films try to do (COPYROCKY) and I think this is what kept me from getting the complete theme quicker. "Cop Rock" is not exactly a household name. It was one of Steven ("Hill Street Blues") Bochco's few failures, a police drama-musical hybrid that lasted only 11 episodes on ABC in 1990 and showed up on TV Guide's 50 Worst TV shows ever. I knwo it has acult following, but that doesn't prove anything. Everything's got at least a cult following these days.

53A: Famous Mudville player after striking out? CRANKYCASEY. Were I a quibbler, I'd point out that Ernest Thayer who penned the immortal "Casey at the Bat" never told us how the Mudville slugger felt after his titanic whiff. Cranky is probably a good guess, but still. . .

3D: Good-looking flower? DISHYPANSY

28D: Suspicious absence from school? FISHYHOOKY

That's all for today. See you tomorrow.

Playing Catch-up

Since Monday's Sun puzzle didn't come out til Tuesday afternoon, by which time I should be working on the Wednesday puzzle -- (ever since I started crossword blogging I no longer know what day it is) -- I'm not going to be able to spend as much time on this puzzle as it deserves.
R&B Singles is a very clever puzzle, wherein constructor Pancho Harrison manages to imbed no fewer than seven great rhythm and blues bands in their singular form.

IMPRESSION (17A: Dental mold)
TEMPTATION (59A: "I can resist everything except ____": Oscar Wilde) MIRACLE (4D: _________ on 34th Street)
SUPREME (10D: Utmost)
COASTER (43D: Item under a glass to protect a table.)
PLATTER (45D; Serving Tray)
and my favorite just because you'd think there was no way to singularize Four Tops:
(39A: Table that seats two couples, in restaurant jargon) which of course is a FOURTOP.

Great as this puzzle is, I can't help but wonder -- Couldn't they have squeezed in Dickens hero (PIP)?

And now on to Tuesday's puzzle Books That Aren't Spaced Out by Kelsey Blakely. After looking at one across PLATA I thought maybe this was going to be a continuation of Monday's puzzle and we'd be looking for classic R&B groups pronounced with a Boston accent, so that next would be COASTA but this puzzle proved more literary than lyrical. The theme involves three famous books that can change meaning just by eliminating the space between the first word (an A in each case) and the second, so that Kathleen Woodiwiss's "A Rose in Winter" becomes ". . .stopped hibernating early" (Arose in Winter). Cool, huh?

We also get "Abridge Too Far" which is "excessively condense", and Shel Silverstein's classic "A Light in the Attic" only now of course it's about how to "dismount beneath a roof." (Alight in the Attic) . "A Light in the Attic" by the way is number 51 on the American Library Association's list of the 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990-2000. Part of what makes humorless prigs uncomfortable about this book is the following poem, which anybody who remembers what it felt like to be a kid will probably get a kick out of:

Little Abigail and the Beautiful Pony

There was a girl named Abigail
Who was taking a drive
Through the country
With her parents
When she spied a beautiful sad-eyed
Grey and white pony.
And next to it was a sign
That said,
FOR SALE--CHEAP
"Oh," said Abigail,
"May I have that pony?
May I please?"
And her parents said,
"No you may not."
And Abigail said,
"But I MUST have that pony."
And her parents said,
"Well, you can't have that pony,
But you can have a nice butter pecan
Ice cream cone when we get home."
And Abigail said,
"I don't want a butter pecan
Ice cream cone,
I WANT THAT PONY--
I MUST HAVE THAT PONY."
And her parents said,
"Be quiet and stop nagging--
You're not going to get that pony."
And Abigail began to cry and said,
"If I don't get that pony, I'll die."
And her parents said, "You won't die.
No child has ever died yet from not getting a pony."
And Abigail felt so bad
That when they got home she went to bed,
And she couldn't eat,
And she couldn't sleep,
And her heart was broken,
And she DID die--
All because of a pony
That her parents wouldn't buy.

(This is a good story
To read to your folks
When they won't buy
You something you want.)

Censorship of any kind makes my blood boil. I have no problem with a parent who doesn't want their child to read a particular book (and every school in America offers alternate choices), but when they then want to tell me what my child can and cannot read that's when we have a problem. For a while I made it a point to buy my children a copy of every book that was challenged in their school district. Alas, it soon became too expensive to continue.

And before I go try to get back on track with the Wednesday puzzle, I will point out that our old friend AVA reappears in this one (62D: Gardner of "One Touch of Venus") and I had a tough time with 50D: Chagrin because I thought and still think that abash fits the clue better than "abase," and with 44D: Half brother of Tom Sawyer because I misremembered him as Sam instead of SID.

Maybe Annie was wrong

Maybe the Sun won't come out. It's 3:13 pm and no Sun Crossword puzzles have yet been posted. I'm going to go do last Friday's Wall Street Journal puzzle before I go into full-fledged withdrawal. In the meantime, here's one of my favorite autographed pictures. It's from billionaire former Italian Prime Minister and all-around ladies man, Silvio Berlusconi.

The Sun'll come out tomorrow

I think the New York Sun crossword puzzles are as good as or better than any crosswords anywhere.

Don't believe me, ask three-time American Crossword Puzzle Tournament champion Tyler Hinman: "With entertaining and varied themes, fresh grid entries, and lively clues, The New York Sun crosswords are exactly what modern solvers want."

or Ellen Ripstein, another ACPT champ: "The New York Sun Crosswords are on a par with the best puzzles anywhere. The Thursday and Friday puzzles are a real challenge, even for expert solvers."

or how about Ken Jennings, 74-time "Jeopardy" Champion: "The New York Sun puzzles are as fun, as challenging, and as endlessly inventive as any being published anywhere today. Simply put, these are crosswords for crossword lovers."

I could throw blurbs at you all day, but I won't, because you can try the New York Sun puzzles for free here. (Keep in mind the Sun is only published Monday-Friday.) And every Monday through Friday, inspired by the legendary Rex Parker who handles The New York Times crossword, I post of my struggles and triumphs (and failures too) with these great puzzles. If you love crosswords, I hope you'll bookmark this page or better yet subscribe with Bloglines. See you soon, and in the words of New York Sun crossword puzzle editor Peter Gordon, "May all your days be filled with Sun.".

New column

For the last eleven years or so, I've written a column (as well as CD and book reviews and a few interviews) for Country Standard Time Magazine and I just turned in my new column, which will be in the next issue. But I thought I'd go ahead and post it here since it has a little something to do with crosswords.

When Will I C You Again?

I just got back from the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament in Stamford, Connecticut. And on the 19 hour train home I had time to contemplate crosswords and how they relate to a couple of my other passions – comic books and country music.

They all have something in common – I mean besides the fact they all start with the letter "C." It’s that they've all gotten more popular in the last few years and I kinda wish they hadn't. In some ways I prefer my hobbies to be more niche than mainstream

When I go to comic book conventions I can actually meet and talk to people like Adam Hughes, Gilbert and Jaime Hernandez, Frank Brunner and John Romita (Senior and Junior). In Stamford I got to spend time with Will Shortz, Merl Reagle, Peter Gordon and Stan Newman.

You probably don't know who any of those people are, but I can best describe it to you like this: If you were a movie lover, it would be like spending a weekend with Brad Pitt and Cameron Diaz, or Meryl Streep and Paul Newman. If you're more of a literary lover, it would be like a dinner party with John Updike and Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

The point is I can hang out with and bask in the presence of some of the biggest names and greatest talents in two fields of endeavor that I am enamored of, comic books and crossword puzzles.

And I used to be able to do the same thing with that third C. When I went to country concerts back in the 1970s – and I saw some of the biggest stars around at that time -- Conway Twitty, Loretta Lynn, Sonny James, Crystal Gayle – they all hung around, signed autographs and chatted with fans, not just a few fans, but everybody that wanted to meet them got to do so.

Most country stars don't do that anymore. And I know that some of them probably would like to, but it's just not practical. And I know about Fan Fair, and I think Fan Fair is great, but it's only one week and one place.

I’m not sure what the answer is, but I don’t think we can ever go back to the way it was. And now it looks like it may be happening with my other hobbies too. Some comic creators have stopped going to conventions because they get mobbed, the American Crossword Puzzle Tournament had a hard time handling a record crowd this year and next year will have to move to a bigger location.

And I’m glad that the things I love are being enjoyed by lots of other people, really I am. But it just seems like we lose something, a personal touch, when an avocation becomes too big.

Oh well, I guess I could always take up croquet or candle collecting.

Will the real Kitty Carlisle please rest in peace

Kitty Carlisle Hart passed away on April 17th. She was 96 and evidently the last of her breed, that breed of course being Grande Dame.
She is most famous for two things -- acting and singing an aria in the Marx Brothers classic "A Night at the Opera" and for appearing as a panelist on the classic TV game show "To Tell the Truth" for more than twenty years. But she could have been famous for many more accomplishments. She was a tireless promoter of the arts who served on the New York State Council on the Arts and as chairperson from 1976 to 1996. She was married to Moss Hart, a well-known playwright ("The Man Who Came to Dinner" "You Can't Take it With You") screenwriter ("Gentleman's Agreement", the 1954 version of a "A Star is Born") and Broadway director ("My Fair Lady" "Camelot"). In 1996 when Governor Pataki decided not to reappoint her to the Arts Council, she started singing again and embarked on a national tour that lasted through 2006.
The best obituary of Miss Carlisle is here.
And yes, I do happen to have an autographed picture of her:

It's Friday I'm in Love

Four Corners in the Middle by Gary Steinmehl

I admit it, I don't get it. If "Four corners in the middle" means something, if there's a theme here I don't see it, and I've turned the puzzle sideways and upside-down looking for it. Anyway, I'm sure it's something simple that I've overlooked, so please make me feel like a fool. Tell me what's going on.

After I finished the puzzle I googled "Four corners in the middle". It was a time-wasting basketball strategy made irrelevant by the advent of the shot clock. That doesn't help me any.

Acute bandages, hazard drives, cowboy bon mot, second packing??!

Okay, while I wait for someone to enlighten me, I'll tell you that I still enjoyed this puzzle -- even though it's been sitting there on the corner of my desk calling me a stupidhead ever since I finished it. (And I did finish it, didn't I, Mister Big Scary Friday Puzzle? So who are you calling a stupidhead?)

I did not know that the Dead Sea was once known Lacas Asphaltities (37A). By the way, Lacas Asphaltities means just what it looks like it would mean -- Lake of Asphalt -- which means asphalt has been around longer than I thought. (Okay, okay, I'm dumb.) Evidently the thing to do when you visit the Dead Sea is to float in it while reading a newspaper.














Alone or with a friend.














And if you don't have a newspaper you'll have to pretend.








BORAX is a word I've seen many times (9A: Water softener) without ever really learning what it is. Maybe because it's used in so many things -- insecticides, cosmetics, fire retardants, furniture and a jungle from the 70's that lodged itself in my head and will not leave to make room for more important information: "Oh, Fab, I'm glad there's lemon-freshened borax in you!"

Steinmehl got me 42A: Dictator's phrase (INRE) I was thinking Idi Amin not the boss man, especially as that seems like it ought to be spelled "dictater." (I know it isn't. Despite what today's puzzle is telling you, I'm not stupid.)

65A: It might be on a roll (OLEO) Amazing how constructors keep coming up with new ways to clue this word that is unknown to margarine-loving non-crossworders.

Interesting to see LIPO clued as Chinese poet of the eighth century, rather than fat star's procedure or something similar. Li Po's most famous poem is "Drinking Alone Under the Moon" but most of his poems seem to be about liquor, and he died when he fell out of a boat while drunkenly trying to embrace the moon's reflection in the water. (And you thought Dylan Thomas was a drinker.)

I'm hoping that the theme will come to me as soon as I post this entry and reveal my ignorance to the world. But if not, I would seriously appreciate anybody who can let me know what I'm missing.

(Shut up, puzzle, I'm not talking to you.)

Thursday Never Looking Back

I've mentioned before that I like to get 1 Across, and I got it today, (Frequent celebrity mag topic BRANGELINA) thanks to the gossip magazines my son subscribes to. For those who don't know, Brangelina refers to super celeb couple Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. Other Hollywood uni-names: Bennifer (Ben Affleck and first Jennifer Lopez and then Jennifer Garner), Tomkat (Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes) and even Romber (for reality show stars Rob Mariano and Amber Brkich.) All of which goes to show that crossword solvers need a good dictionary, an encyclopedia, a Bible and a subscription to Us Weekly.

Didn't get 5D: Its logo is an eighth note with a star behind it GRANDOLEOPRYfor a while, and I should have since I am a country music columnist and critic. I know I've shown the considerable holes in my musical knowledge before, but
what makes this a eighth note? Don't all notes look like a tadpole that turned a corner too quickly?

I've never heard the expression "tickle the palm" (1D: BRIBE) and Thesaurus.Com does not list Tickle the palm as a synonym for BRIBE, though it does list Grease and grease the palm. Maybe it's obscure and maybe constructor Graham Meyer was in a hurry to get done with this puzzle so he could go grease the ivories on his piano and get a tickle job for his car.

24A: 1995 Stallone Role (DREDD) refers to Judge Dredd, a movie that few people saw. When people learn that I'm a comic book fan, they invariably ask me how how I liked the new X-Men movie or the Fantastic Four movie and they're always surprised when I tell them I haven't seen them and have no intention of seeing them. Movies almost invariably screw up comics (and I say "almost" because the first two Christopher Reeve Superman movies did it right) and for all the talk about "comic book dialogue or plot" they always have to dumb something down for a movie audience. (Ask me about Alan Moore and "V for Vendetta" or "The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" sometime.) I knew they were going to screw up Judge Dredd as soon as I heard about it. Judge Dredd lives in a future dystopia where police are judge and jury too. Judge Dredd never ever takes off his helmet. Never. I mean not even to sleep or to bathe. I knew Stallone couldn't do a whole movie without showing his mug and I knew if they didn't have any more respect for the character than that they were not going to get my seven dollars.

Okay, this is me getting off my high horse:

I had a hard time with 40A: They're clumsy (LUMMOXES) I had _UM_OXE_ and alll I could think was DUMB OXEN, but I've never heard oxen referred to as clumsy, even the dumb ones must be pretty graceful.

And I don't know about 32D: Uncertain (DOUBTABLE) I know it's in the dictionary, so I guess you could say it's just as good a word as doubtful, but I'm dubiable.

22D: Song originally from Broadway musical "Everybody's Welcome" (ASTIMEGOESBY) is a perfect crossword clue. I knew this song made famous in "Casablanca" was originally in another show, and somewhere way back in the back of my brain was the name of that show, but I didn't know I knew it until I had almost the entire entry filled in.

If you don't love baseball you probably had a hard time with 53A: 1986 World Series chant (DARRYL) I love baseball and as a Red Sox fan I will not, can not, ever forget the 86 Fall Classic, and I had GOMETS for a long time. It refers to a chant from the Fenway faithful meant to rattle rightfielder Darryl Strawberry. Mets fan got the last laugh however when, in a decisive 6th game, the Red Sox' Bill Buckner erred on an easy grounder to first. (There you go, Rex, some baseball commentators do occasionallyuse the word "erred".)

Wednesday Morning Papers Didn't Come

I don't like sequels. I never have. I refuse to patronize any movie with a numeral at the end of its title. I haven't seen a James Bond movie since "Dr. No."I'm the same way with books too, so I have no idea what happened to Harry Potter after the Sorceror's Stone. To me, a sequel is just an artist's admission that he has run out of ideas and has now sunk so low he's plagiarizing himself.


And as much as I hate sequels, that's how much I fear geography clues. They are the definite chink in my crossword armor. I can never tell Rhine from Rhone or Yser from Oise. Whenever there is a geographic clue I skip it, and even if the clue were "Street where Robert Loy lives" I would skip it.

So you would think that a sequel to a geographic puzzle would not be my cup of tea. But love is stronger than hate or fear, and I love puns and wordplay. And I love Capital Pun-ishment The Sequel by Alex Boisvert.

The first Capital Pun-ishment puzzle was in last Wednesday's sun and you can read about it here if you've forgotten) and it used only U.S. capitols, but Boisvert has expanded his realm now, and now we've got world capitals.

(Warning: Hardcore wordplay ahead. If you don't agree that a groan is at least as good as a chuckle, proceed with caution!)

The punishers are as follows:

16A: Carillon classification for competitive people (TAIPEIBELGRADE) (Type A Bell Grade.)

23A: Secure an auto mausoleum (ANKARAKHARTOUM) (Anchor a car tomb)

With 36A: Get under an animators skin (HANOIDAKARTUNIS) Boisvert pulls off a triple capital pun. I am a big fan of sequential art, and I have done my fair share at comic conventions of hanoi-ing da kartunis.

51A: Shout when a costume part grows twofold (DAMASCUSDUBLIN)

And my favorite, 58A: (Mother's heifer razzed a nudnik) MOSCOWBUDAPEST.


To get such great entries in the puzzle requires a lot of three-letter words. We've got presidents (DDE) and congressmen (SEN), body parts (EAR) Roman numerals (CDI), exclamations (OOH) and notations (IRR), top of the line cars (XKE) and bottom-of-the-barrel celebrities (URI), but that's the price you pay.

One clue stood out for all the wrong reasons. 45D: Short-legged rodent (MARMOT). That doesn't really narrow it down much. Are there any long-legged rodents?
But all in all, I liked this puzzle so much I hope there'll be a sequel to the sequel, call it: The Return of the Son of Capital Pun-ishment: With a Vengeance

Sun Comes up, it's Tuesday Morning

Take Five is by Patrick Blindauer, and the five that you're supposed to take are the five vowels -- A,E,I,O,U -- and sometimes (but not today) Y.


So when you take five, one at a time, "Rocket Launch" becomes ROCKETLUNCH (17A: Hero in space?) , That lovable monkey Curious George becomes CURIOUS GORGE (27A: Odd ravine?)

My favorite is 38A: Affair with a robot? (ELECTRONICFLING), it just seems appropriate to laugh about taxes the day after they're due. 45A: Ice-cold brew is of course FREEZINGPINT.

I have to say that the U-less entry 62A: Aspect of the bathroom? SHOWERFACET is the weakest of the bunch but then I may be prejudiced, U is my least favorite vowel. (Nothing personal.)

One of the things that I most admire about crossword bloggers like Rex Parker and Orange is their ability to find secondary themes in puzzles, words with connections that the constructor didn't intend except maybe subconsciously. So I was looking for connections in this puzzle, like things that people might eat at a rocket lunch. They might enjoy a nice SALAMI (6D: Deli hanger) sandwich, maybe accompanied by an OLIVE (66A: "Little Miss Sunshine" girl) or two and a chicken LEG (19A: Journey segment). If they get thirsty they could TAKE TEA (20A: What the British do in the afternoon.) And what crossword luncheon would be complete without an OREO (55D: Source of the title material in "Weird Al" Yankovic's "The White Stuff") for dessert?

If you're curious about a gorge, you might wonder how a RECESSION (35D: Tough economic time) got SOBIG (6A: Dirk DeJong's nickname in a 1924 novel). And of course if you fell in, you might say OHNO (56D: Words of horror).

And who would enjoy a freezing pint more than a TOSSPOT (54A: Souse)? Especially if it was full of a variety of GINS 31D: Goes out at the card table, in a way). BTW, even though SOT and TOPER show up more often, my favorite crossword souse synonym is definitely "tosspot."

If you were having an ELECTRONICFLING, its quite possible your mechanical mistress arrived on earth in a fleet of UFOS (59D: Sky line creators, perhaps). And of course you'll have to exercise TACT (54D: Delicatesse) or you might end up with an EENSY (44A: Very small) surprise.

As far as a SHOWERFACET, well every shower I've ever been UNDER (65A: Anesthetized) has been WET (63D: Prohibition opposer).

You know, it's amazing, when you start looking at it, how much there is going on in a 15 X 15 square.

The Monday Sun

I can see that I have much to learn about crossword blogging. Just when I was about to make the pronouncement that Thursday and Friday puzzles are much easier to blog about as they have longer, more interesting entries than lend themselves better to illustration, along comes this Monday puzzle with opportunities aplenty to illustrate.

And to get in trouble.

The name of this puzzle by Mark Feldman is Spa Treatments for Miss World, and the theme entries all concern health or cosmetic treatments associated with a particular country. 67 per cent of these I have no problem blogging about.

I mean I can show you Spa Treatment #1 (3D) FRENCHMANICURE. Nothing controversial there for even the most fervent Francophobe.

I can explain that Spa treatment #3 (17D) SWEDISHMASSAGE refers to a variety of techniques specifically designed to relax muscles by applying pressure to them against deeper muscles and bones, and rubbing in the same direction as the flow of blood returning to the heart. And that the best masseuse I ever knew was very dismissive of Swedish massage, preferring the deep tissue massage technique, which I can testify (in the words of John Mellencamp) hurts so good.

But what am I supposed to do with Spa treatment #2 (16D) BRAZILIANWAX. I don't want to alienate my audience, who Will Shortz has taught me is always at the breakfast table enjoying a wholesome repast with their family. Nor do I particularly want to explain to my wife what all those pictures of balding Brazilian babes are doing in my browser's history.

Maybe I can get the point across with this caveman cartoon. After all, thanks to Geico, everybody loves cavemen, right?

On second thought, no, that's not quite right either. How about if I let Scott Spiezio, the third baseman of the World Series champion St. Louis Cardinals show us all what a Brazilian wax is all about. Scott doesn't have a "bikini area" so he wears his Brazilian on his face.
Scott --


Whew, that's better. But I'm still not out of the woods yet. What am I supposed to do with 59A: Chat room activity for some (CYBERSEX) especially as it's directly beneath 55A: Like some illnesses (NEARFATAL), I know good and well near-fatal cyber sex is not a suitable topic for breakfast table conversation. And even looking for images to accompany something as seemingly innocent as 63A: Musical instruments with pipes (ORGANS) can show you more than you bargained for, as can 1D: Down Under girl (SHEILA).

And I'd strongly advice you to have safe search on if you want an image to accompany 9A: Staff (ROD) or you might get something even more startling than this shot of Rod the Mod Stewart.

6D: Bib moistener (DROOL) is unpleasant to contemplate. And now even 7D: Finishes (ENDS) looks like something it shouldn't.

And from sex the puzzle turns to violence. 16A: Throw to the canvas (BODYSLAM) is a legitimate wrestling move, but directly above 19A: Transversely (CROSSWAYS). If you bodyslam someone crossways, you could break their spine.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Let's look at some of the other entries.

12A: In the saddle (AHORSE) is somewhat unusual but not controversial -- unless, they mean horse as a nickname for heroin. And look right under there, 15A: Night Flight (REDEYE) we all know red eyes is something that happens when you smoke marijuana.

Sex, violence and drugs, oh my!

And isn't DRIP (34D: Tiresome person) a slang term for gonorrhea? How do we know that X in GRANDPRIX (38A: Endurance car race) is really silent? Every TIKI (41A: Carved Polynesian pendant) I've ever seen was naked.

Oh my, I feel faint. Thank goodness for 18A: Eeyore's creator (MILNE) and 49D: Magic word of comic books (SHAZAM). If you'll excuse me I'm going to go curl up with my stuffed Winnie the Pooh and a stack of Captain Marvel comics.