EC COMICS LAUNCH PARTY
Revenge Of
Los Angeles
July 23, 2024
It was a dark and stormy night when I discovered EC Comics. Perusing my college library’s bookstacks during a moment of procrastination, I came upon the graphic novels section and was struck by a series of spine-tingling spines: Tales from the Crypt, Weird Science, Shock SuspenStories, they screamed. This was around 2018, when the term “elevated horror” was on the rise — and with it, the idea that horror was historically a backwards, brutish genre that needed to be redirected. The comics I read in those volumes proved that this couldn’t have been further from the truth.
Horror has long been deeper than doe-eyed final girls and Technicolor bloodstains — thanks to pioneers such as original EC Comics co-editor William Gaines, who in 1954 stood before the Senate Subcommittee to Investigate Juvenile Delinquency and defended the value of a Shock SuspenStory that laid graphically bare the evils of suburban racism. The censorious atmosphere imposed by these regulators led to the publisher’s decision to shut down EC and focus on their other magazine brands.
Now, like the ghosts and zombies who haunted many of its pages, EC is back from the beyond — resurrected by new publisher Hunter Gorinson as Epitaphs from the Abyss and Cruel Universe, monthly anthologies with the same radical spirit as their predecessors. Last week — lured in by an Instagram ad promising a “spooky little soirée” — I stopped by Revenge Of, a comics and pinball shop in Los Angeles’s Glassell Park neighborhood, to celebrate this momentous occasion.
Stepping into the store, I found myself surrounded by bookshelves, action figures, and even an array of sweet treats — but where were the festivities? I squeezed through the crowded aisles and found an opening into a hall that looked not unlike the interior of a spaceship, lined with blinking pinball machines. I resisted the allure of a Sopranos-themed installation and made my way onto a patio packed with comic book fans. Three photo booths gave patrons the opportunity to insert themselves into the cover art. Screenwriter J. Holtham, author Ben H. Winters, and writer Corinna Bechko were present to sign copies. In conversation, they attested to the community spirit in the comics world, reflected in the evening’s attendance.
Next to the signing table, guests could indulge in a variety of on-theme activities. Tattoo artist Johnny Vampotna inked flash tats that could’ve appeared on Halloween greeting cards in EC’s heyday. Velvet Apparition provided the best assortment of vintage wares I’ve seen in all my journeys through antique malls, ranging from the gorgeous (ornate bookends shaped like cathedrals) to the ghastly (drying and finishing powder designed for morticians) to the goofy (a smiling rubber cat toy that squeaked when pressed). Inside another indoor area — this one replete with even more pinball machines, plus a bar — horror merch brand Disperse sold T‑shirts and DVDs. Patrons were eager to sort through the bin of cult classics, proving that physical media is indeed undead.
I closed out the night by — what else? — buying a cup of tokens and giving some of the pinball machines a whirl. I faced fearsome foes on the Scooby-Doo machine and made the strippers at Sopranos club Bada Bing! spin — but after a few rounds, I was ready to head home. I had some reading to do.
