It’s not the size of a man’s ME …

I haven't done an "onomontoPOWia" post in quite a while, but I can't pass this up:


Don't let yourself get distracted by the seething mass of pus-filled bulges that constitute his "muscles" or his grotesque anatomical proportions or the pathetic inking or the lackluster color or the lingering questions of where his other hand is and what happened to the handle of that gun. Because that would be a rookie mistake.

No no, the real star of this little tableaux is the onomontoPOWia. Specifically, look how big his shouted "ME!" is compared to the BUDDA BUDDA BUDDA of the gun's discharge.

If a guy brings a gun that big to a fight and it's quiet enough to not even be shushed by a librarian, something is definitely amiss. Image characters of the Nineties were all about the macho, and clearly this guy's trying, but he's never going to make the big leagues with a wimpy weapon like that. I mean, a flying headband and skintight faceless ski mask and obnoxious musculature and bad attitude and gravity-defying shoulder pads will only get you so far, you know? At some point you have to fire that boomstick and when you do, you'd better be able to bring it, bucko!

Although, if guys with "Little Man Syndrome" buy big flashy cars to overcompensate, maybe he's buying a teeny tiny sounding gun to ... undercompensate?

Nah. No one in the Image Nineties would be able to resist showing off an ... asset ... as big as that would imply. On the contrary, they'd be hanging a dozen pouches off of it and giving it its own title.

(From "Bloodstrike" number 13, ©1994, Image Comics.)