Thwak! Braghk! Gukguk! Ga-shklurtz! That’s the sound of Don Martin at work!
Don Martin was my gateway drug into the world of subversive comedy. I mean, like, when I fist saw MAD Magazine, I didn’t know what to make of it. MAD made fun of things I liked! How am I supposed to read stuff like that? I didn’t come here to be insulted! At any rate, MAD felt lurid and dirty compared to the “funnies” I had been reading up to that point. In other words, I was hooked, but that was all thanks to Don Martin.
Y’see, the thing is, Mort Drucker, Jack Davis, y’know, all those guys can draw well. In fact, they all draw superhumanly good. I couldn’t draw like that as a kid, and I sure as shit can’t draw like that now. Don Martin, on the other hand, had a bulbous cartoony slapsticky style that I was able to replicate in the back of my trapper keeper during class. In fact, I used to draw his comics and pass them off as my own. I dunno if anyone beleived the gags were mine, but still, I can’t think of a better cartooning training ground for a youngster. In fact, thank you Mr. Martin, thank you for the corruption of my youth and others. I hope to see you in Hell.