Monthly Archives: January 2012

Panel Gallery: To Me, My Board!

Longbox Shortbox

Longbox Graveyard #31

A grab-bag of five phantasmagorical mini-reviews this week!

Incredible Hulk #331-345, May 1987-July 1988

In his introduction for the first volume of the Marvel Visionaries reprinting this run, author Peter David admits that the Incredible Hulk was a book that no one really wanted to write when he took it over in 1987. And small wonder. For most of his history, the Hulk has been a great character underserved by crappy books. With Todd McFarlane on pencils, David would simultaneously take the book back to its roots (with the Hulk at war with his Bruce Banner identity) and also explore new territory (as the grey Hulk develops a persona more complex and nuanced than previously experienced).

I quite liked the dangerous, brutish personality that David developed for the Hulk, but the road story of the Hulk, Rick Jones, and Clay Quartermain hunting down Gamma Bombs was a snore (as was Bruce Banner’s marital problems with his wife, Betty), and the bad guys never rose to the broad-shouldered standard of the Hulk himself. Story themes tended toward the supernatural and morality plays, and in this they reminded me a bit of Saga of the Swamp Thing, where Alan Moore was completing his run right about the time David debuted on Hulk. But David failed to really dig into the dysfunctional side of the Hulk the way Alan Moore deconstructed Swampy — what we wind up with is a day tour of the dark side rather than an exploration of the inky blackness of the Hulk’s soul.

This will sound strange coming from a guy who writes a comic book blog … but reading this series for the first time recently was my first exposure to Todd McFarlane’s pencils. (Remember, I was in a comics cold sleep for decades). Most artists are a product of their age but I have to say that McFarlane’s pencils haven’t aged well. Aside from a select few panels I found his work static and overly posed. The range of expression in his humans was limited — a lot of clenched jaws and 80s hair — but he drew a pretty mean-looking Hulk.

Yeah, he’ll never amount to anything.

Anyway, I found this series a bit of a let-down, and can only assume the esteem in which it is held is largely due to Incredible Hulk having been such a terrible book before the Peter David gave it a fresh take. To be fair, these issues are just the start of David’s decade-long run on the character. I’ll come back and give the series another chance, but this year-long arc was enough for now.

LBG Letter Grade For This Run: C+

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Jungle Action #6-18 September 1973-November 1975

I filled in my collection of Jungle Action at San Diego Comic-Con for a song, and I touched on my affection for Black Panther in a previous column, but I must still rank this series as a disappointment. Make no mistake — this is an historic run that scores high points for ambition and degree of difficulty. It has a minority character in a leading role, it eschews standard superheroics for a tale of African civil war, and it can lay claim to being the first graphic novel. Author Don McGregor approaches his subject with intelligence, examining themes of betrayal and the horror of war, and the art and page layouts from artists Rich Buckler and Billy Graham were brash and fresh for the era.

My problem with the book is entirely down to Don McGregor’s writing style, which employs a tortured syntax that just never flowed for me. Read the two-page spread below and decide for yourself — it may work for you, and it may not, but either way you have to admit McGregor’s style demands a different kind of attention from the reader. I will concede that he may be an acquired taste, but it is not a taste I want to acquire — I reprogrammed my brain to read Patrick O’Brian but I’m not going to do the same thing for Black Panther.

So the problem with Jungle Action may be with the reader and not the book, but I found this a run to be admired, rather than enjoyed.

LBG Letter Grade For This Run: C

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Daredevil #20-49, September 1966-February 1969

With the grim & gritty Frank Miller Daredevil so firmly engrained in my mind it is a bit jarring to go back to the character’s original “swashbuckling,” smart-Alec personality. And as much as I hate to disparage the original, the wise-cracking Matt Murdoch does come off a bit dim-witted in this run, showing little of his supposedly keen legal and seeming something of an airhead as he stumbles through romantic misunderstandings with Karen Page. A convoluted subplot where Daredevil tries to maintain his secret identity by masquerading as his wild and crazy “twin brother” Mark Murdoch has not aged well at all.

Stan Lee’s plotting is heavily reliant on gimmicks. Daredevil is rendered genuinely blind! Daredevil dresses up like Thor, and meets the real God of Thunder! Daredevil is about to be unmasked on live television! The villains are a third-string bunch, too — Stilt Man, The Beetle, The Trapster, The Owl — yeesh! Even when Doctor Doom shows up it’s for a silly body/mind swap story that doesn’t quite work. It’s pretty tiresome stuff, even by Silver Age standards, but the series is rescued by Gene Colan’s flowing pencils, which seem full of motion (and emotion) even when his subjects are at rest.

So effective is his action that I’ve long overlooked another of Gene Colan’s strengths — he was an excellent draftsman, too, and his automobiles, store fronts, and urban landscapes lend an additional air of authenticity to Daredevil’s street-level adventures.

The later half of the run improves a bit. Daredevil’s battle with Captain America in issue #43 is one of the classic stories of the age, and issue #47′s “Brother, Take My Hand” is melodramatic in a good way, as Matt Murdoch finally uses some of his lawyer smarts to help a blinded veteran. But overall, these issues aren’t Stan Lee’s finest moment as a writer, which is a real shame, because if the script had been as strong as the pencils, this would have been a run for the ages.

LBG Letter Grade For This Run: C+

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The New Teen Titans #1-25, November 1980-November 1982

I took the plunge on the New Teen Titans Omnibus when I realized the twenty-five books it covered almost exactly corresponded with the issues missing from my collection. While the stories in this run are classic, the Omnibus is a bit less so, with an oddly stiff binding that sometimes makes it difficult to see the interior edges of the pages, and an introduction from author Marv Wolfman that apparently dates to some earlier collection, rather than offering fresh perspective on the occasion of this particular republication.

But it’s the content that counts, and returning to the Titans after all these years did not disappoint, though DC’s answer to Marvel’s X-Men seems quaint by modern standards, a Silver Age book in Bronze Age clothing. The stories are straight-ahead, uncomplicated, and compressed in old-school fashion, with heroes leaping directly into the action, and narrating their use of powers, their identities, and their inner conflicts so readers have no doubt who they are and what they are doing.

doing what they’re doing, saying what they’re doing, saying what’s happening, and showing it all at once

George Perez’s art is clear, clean, manically detailed, and displayed in deep focus, each page laid out with the precision of Dutch tulip fields — a perfect order of squares and rectangles parsing out consistently-paced superhero action. With its occasional “Epilogs” and portrait-emblazoned splash screen “Roll Calls” the book hearkens to Justice Leagues past, and the narrative captions used to set up some scenes might comfortably be narrated by Ted Knight, the voice-of-god storyteller from a 1970s Superfriends cartoons.

Marv Wolfman’s scripts reveal teenage yearnings in most un-teenaged fashion, his characters almost perfectly self-aware in the way they emote, stating out loud their insecurities and needs where the genuine article would more likely be sullen, or confused, or capricious in coming to grips with issues that can’t identify, let alone articulate.

self-help Robin saves himself a bundle on analyst bills

But for a series where all the gears are on the outside, it works, and works wonderfully, giving our teen cast a richly detailed and evolving characterization. Like the book itself, our characters are orderly, proscribed, and predictable, even when they are coming off the rails. In a way the stories remind me of later-day Star Trek teleplays, with their A and B-stories, their arcs, their spotlit characters, and the sense of a not-so-invisible storytelling hand that will wrap this thing up, one way or the other, by the end of the current episode.

remind me to renew my subscription to the “Underworld Star!”

It’s a world where the bad guys call themselves “The Fearsome Five” and put an ad in the newspaper to fill out their roster. The tales are unambiguously about good versus evil. There are no shadows here and no shades of grey, in the story or the art. The heroes may argue with each other over methods or objectives, but there’s never a doubt about who the baddies are. And lest demons like Trigon think we find them cute for sporting Bullwinkle antlers, he drives home his point by killing little girls and blowing up planets (for starters).

don’t let those Bullwinkle antlers fool you …

It’s remarkable how the book handles heavy issues with a light touch. Raven is the daughter of a woman wedded to a demon by her coven; Donna Troy is sexually beguiled by a Greek Titan; Starfire was sold into slavery — but the story doesn’t dwell on salacious details, instead concentrating on the strengths of each character in overcoming these tragedies. The tales imply rape and genocide but remain nonetheless sunlit and optimistic even in their darkest moments, and it’s not that these events lack weight so much as the glossy nature of the storytelling is magnetically repelled from the grimmest corners of this particular comic book universe. The New Teen Titans are nostalgic, refreshing, and a pretty much perfect example of its form.

LBG Letter Grade For This Run: B+

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Avengers #1-35 September 1963-December 1966

Full of anticipation for this year’s Avengers movie, and armed with a Marvel Digital Unlimited subscription, this seemed an ideal time to revisit the original run of the Avengers. The origin tale — with Iron Man, Thor, and the Hulk thrown together with all the chemistry of strangers stuck in an elevator — was familiar, but the rest of the run was new to me, as I first came to the Avengers in 1974. Jack Kirby’s pencils on the first six issues were serviceable, but the Don Heck run that followed was genuinely dire — twenty-nine issues of artistic bad road.

Heck, Don, this just stinks!

The first dozen issues are a bumpy ride, though they have an endearing, “gee whiz” Silver Age charm, with the Avengers democratically rotating their leadership responsibilities, and Rick Jones hanging around and coordinating the operations of his “teen brigade” via ham radio. With Tony Stark determined to hide behind his Iron Man identity, the way is clear for Ant Man/Giant Man to be the brains of the outfit, and that character is the best-realized cast member for the first year of the book, as his powers are (amazingly) used to clever effect, and Hank Pym comes off as a level-headed man of science. The Wasp is a one-note bubble-brain, though, and the internal conflict of the book is limited to arguing with (and about) the Hulk.

The book finds its stride with issue #16, when the headlining heroes are jettisoned, and only Captain America sticks around, to lead a spare parts team of Hawkeye, Quicksilver, and the Scarlet Witch as replacement Avengers. Now the book starts to simmer with internal conflict, as everyone seems to want Cap’s job leading the team, and the series begins to benefit from its own history, with villains like Kang returning to challenge the Avengers anew. So, too, do classic Avengers themes begin to emerge, with villains turning good (the Swordsman, the Black Widow, and an earlier version of the Black Knight figure prominently in this run, while the Avengers Hawkeye, Scarlet Witch, and Quicksilver all overcome villainous origins to join the team); the Avengers enjoying an uneasy relationship with government authorities eager to regulate them or shut them down; Captain America proving more entertaining here than in his own book; Hank Pym’s revolving identities; and continuing obsessions over bylaws, memberships, and leadership. We’re also introduced to characters that would figure prominently in later Avengers lore (like Wonder Man) and we get more Baron Zemo than anyone should have to endure.

The book would truly come into its own with the Roy Thomas/John Buscema run that kicked off in issue #41, but this early run is still a lot of fun (despite Don Heck), and it is a joy to watch the Avengers tropes appear. Plus you can watch Tony Stark smoke as he recharges his ticker!

The series does bottom out a time or two but the overall trend is up and to the right — even after all these years, it is still worth watching the Avengers assemble!

LBG Letter Grade For This Run: B

NEXT WEDNESDAY: #32 Panel Gallery: To Me, My Board!

Limited Universe

Longbox Graveyard #30

Two weeks ago I looked at the book that I consider the future of digital comics. Today, I look into the past with Marvel Digital Comics Unlimited.

It almost seems unfair to refer to any digital comics initiative as a relic of the past, but Marvel’s present online format debuted a hair over four years ago, which is approximately a century in digital time. The MDCU is a subscription based-service, differing from Marvel’s (non-compatible) iOS and Android apps in that it offers unlimited access to a back-catalogue of 10,000 titles, rather than facilitating per-issue purchase of day-and-date new titles. You can safely think of MDCU as a “Netflix for Marvel Comics” with the caveat that you won’t find anything more recent than books which streeted six months ago, with the bulk of the service dedicated to digital versions of Marvel books from decades past.

For me this has proven ideal, as I have pretty much zero interest in contemporary Marvel books, but plenty of desire to fill in the Bronze and (especially) Silver Age gaps in my Marvel Comics reading experience. Given as I’m not obsessed with actually owning those old books (and in fact at times find the whole concept of a collection a burden), merely viewing — rather than physically collecting, or even downloading — these old books is fine with me. And the price has been right, too — a year’s sub for about forty bucks, thanks to a discounted subscription that my family scored for me over the holiday (finally, the geeky gift for the geek who has everything!). For less than the price of a Marvel Omnibus I can roll around in digital comic book heaven for a year, and if at the end of that year it all goes up in digital smoke, well, I’m no worse off than I am today, and hopefully better for having read hundreds of comics over the preceding twelve months.

Overall I’ve been satisfied with MDCU but the experience is far from perfect. I mentioned that the system is four years old, and it shows, not least of which in that it is entirely Flash-driven, which knocks my iPad out as a viewer, because, as we all know, there ain’t no Flash on iOS devices.

I did try to work around the Flash limitation by viewing the site using the Puffin browser on my iPad, but it was even more dreadfully slow than the stock Flash experience, and I could never quite get a full-page view dialed in the way I’d like via Puffin. It isn’t fair to hold MDCU to account for failing to function on a non-supported platform, but it is a bit frustrating that this otherwise-attractive service is unavailable on iPad, a device so well-suited to the “lean backwards” experience of digital reading.

Instead the MDCU must be viewed on a computer with internet access, but even here the results are a mixed bag. The ideal system is a big, crisp display — MDCU seems to have been built with 27” and larger monitors in mind. My problem is that I’m not keen on sitting in front of a computer to read comics (computers are a “lean forward” experience), and there’s no way to get that big monitor to the couch or into bed where I prefer to read my books. A laptop is the obvious compromise, but you do give up the quality of the big monitor experience, and my viewing satisfaction is further exacerbated by owning a Macbook Air, which is a tremendous device for writing Longbox Graveyard, but a sub-optimal comics viewer owing to its 13-inch display.

Below a certain screen size, you’re practically required to view the MDCU library using the “smart panels” option, which does a pretty good job of selectively framing a panel or two at a time, but makes it difficult to appreciate the overall architecture of a comics page, and feels a bit like reading your books through a knot-hole. Even on a large computer monitor, the horizontal aspect ratio of computer screens is at odds with the vertical orientation of a comics page, which is more ideally suited for, oh, I don’t know, maybe this iPad 2 here that I can’t use!

Anyway, on a full-sized computer monitor, you can display a full page (or better-yet, two), lean back, put your feet on the desk, and comfortably read a book … but it still doesn’t compare to relaxing in bed or in a hammock or on some silken divan surrounded by a legion of Princess Leia slave girls with your complete digital run of Howard the Duck.

In an ideal world these comics files would be PDFs, Marvel wouldn’t care if I downloaded them instead of just viewing them, and I could get them on my iPad where the aspect ratio is perfect and pinch/zoom touch controls dispense with the whole awkward smart panels thing …

… you know, the way it is if you pirate the books from online sights right now.

Regardless, I genuinely think forty bones is a more than fair price to view so many Marvel books of years past online. I knew full well going in that the reading experience would be sub-optimal so it really isn’t fair to complain about it. Hopefully Marvel will get their strategy sorted out and provide an iPad-friendly version of MDCU sometime soon. In the meantime, imperfect as it is, viewing these books via my Macbook is the only game in town.

Unfortunately, the challenges of MDCU aren’t limited to the viewing experience. Browsing the site is slow, indirect, and earns failing marks. You can browse by Character, Series, Creator, Comic Event, and On-Sale Date, but everything is accessed through links-within-links, and every refresh of the page is painfully slow.

Let’s say I want to browse the Fantastic Four. It may be the World’s Greatest Comic Magazine, but it isn’t in the default display for “Browse By Character.” Clicking “F” I wait a few seconds, then select from the “F” books on offer, then select Fantastic Four (as opposed to Fantastic Four (Ultimate)).

Now two layers deep in the interface, I see books 1-20 of 1086 issues on offer. It will take me another two clicks to arrange the screen the best way for my purposes — displaying 100 titles per page, rather than twenty, and sorting from oldest book to newest, rather than the other way around — and the ancient Flash interface takes more than fifteen seconds to process each click. But even then … the first eight entries are things like Visionaries collections, Marvel Age re-imaginings, and Clobberin‘ Time Digests (WTF?) before I see the canonical Fantastic Four #1 from 1961 available for reading. What is worse, I have to jump through these hoops every time I want to browse a title, because as near as I can tell, there’s no way to save my preferences for browsing. I always want to view books from old to new with the maximum number of titles per page, but the system will always make me start with viewing them new to old with a minimum number of books per page.

With all the books on offer I should feel like I’ve been let loose in the biggest comics shop on the planet, but this interface makes browsing and discovery a real chore. This has been a major disappointment. It makes me want to cry.

I’ll get over it … somehow …!

To get around this hurdle I’ve made heavy use of the “Must Reads” feature, which lets me checkmark a book for later reading. In theory, at least, this limits my pain in that I can go through my now-optimized FF list one time and just check off the books I want to read … though making check marks next to each book is no joy, and there’s still the wait time required to refresh each of the dozen or so pages as I move forward through the library.

But having a robust “Must Reads” list is no picnic. Clicking “Must Reads” defaults me to an Issue View displaying only 10 books per page. I already have over 200 titles on my Must Read list, so that’s twenty pages of clicks to page through even my painfully-curated list.

To get the list into useful shape, I first have to change the 10 per Page view to 50 per page, then guess which of the four pages will have the book I want to read. On a good night, I might guess right and estimate that the Silver Surfer issue I want to read is on Page 3 of my Must Read issues list … but that was still three clicks (each with a longish pause to load) before I could get to the book I wanted (which will itself require another long load), and I will have to jump through those same hoops again next time, because as with the browsing experience, preferences aren’t saved. Plus when I do finally have my Must Reads list set up just right it is still out of order half the time, because the system sorts issue numbers by first digit instead of value …

A “Browse Must Reads By Series” option would seem to offer some relief, by collapsing all those individual issue listings into series subheads, but maddeningly I am unable to actually launch and read books when using this view. Instead MDCU throws up a kind of checklist showing which books are on my list to read, but there are no links to the books themselves.

Searching yields better results, but it seems feature-rich to little effect. After seeing Amazing Spider-Man #229 lauded over at the excellent (and recommended) Chasing Amazing blog, I figured I’d look up that issue for myself. Entering “Amazing Spider-Man 229″ into the search box and narrowing results to “Digital Comics” yields bupkis. Entering the same string into “All of Marvel.com,” however, led me direct to the … ahem … digital comic, which I was then able to load and read. Why provide an option to narrow search results if only the general result will work?

The whole interface is simultaneously over-featured and undercooked. For example, I can rate each issue after I’ve read it, between one and five stars. That’s nice. But what can I do with that rating? There’s no option to sort the books I’ve read by rating, or review and compare (and maybe adjust) my ratings after I’ve entered them into the system. My rating presumably influences the displayed rating for each book as a guide for other readers, but it is useless to me. It would be nice to pull up a list of all my five-star books to offer as a recommendation list for friends, or even to isolate the best books to show my kids when they evince a rare moment of interest in my hobby … but no can do. I can export my reading list as a CSV file but my Mac copy of Numbers couldn’t make much of the data. The “Digital Comics I’ve Read” view is just as cumbersome to use as the “Must Reads” interface, and doesn’t show my ratings at all, so there’s basically no “scorecard” experience for using the MDCU — no sense of accomplishment or feeling of gradually filling out a digital collection to offer even a transitory substitution for the experience of collecting and reading the books themselves.

I don’t know if it is due to copyright concerns or simple indifference, but there are basically no tools for sharing content or comments or anything else about these stories. If I think of my old pal Chris Ulm while reading about Iron Man slugging it out with the Mandarin I’m better off getting a screen grab and pushing it to him via email than I am opening this cryptic window:

So much for sharing, really. This interface will result in pretty much zero virality, and seems a real missed opportunity for Marvel’s fans to spread the brand and co-opt their friends into the system.

I’ve already touched on the reading experience, which is pretty good if you can get accustomed to reading your books one panel at a time. Most of the older books that interest me have pretty pedestrian page layouts, and the gestalt that I miss in not seeing entire pages is compensated for by seeing panels blown up several times their printed size, which has already helped me better appreciate a few artists (most notably Steve Ditko).

love the detail, motion, and emotion of this Ditko panel from Amazing Spider-Man #10, which is easy to overlook in its original resolution

You will also have to decide if you like the colors of these digital copies, which of course provide a substantially different look and feel than reading the original books. The system isn’t perfect and some of the page turns can take their sweet time but I’ve made peace with it. Be aware that I found one book — Thanos #1 — where the word balloons and panels were distorted and out of place, possibly a bug related to adjusting the zoom controls, but that this is first time I’ve found a book unreadable out of the seventy or so that I have sampled.

So … aside from a rotten browsing experience, a pretty crap interface, long page loads, inadequate reading list tools, bad sharing tools, and material that suffers for being viewed on a laptop computer monitor, how did you enjoy the play, Mrs. Lincoln?

Surprisingly, I enjoyed it. A lot. And it is all due to the content provided by MDCU.

Once you start to get your arms around the scope of the books on offer here you can’t help but have your eyes grow wide. For a person like me, who took twenty years away from comics, there are entire lost decades to explore, to say nothing of the buried Bronze and Silver Age treasures I bought this subscription to read. Sure, I’m no particular fan of 1990s comic books … but seeing dozens of Jim Starlin books from that era pop up in a search on that creator’s name encourages me to give them a try, and if I don’t like what he did with my Bronze Age favorites like Captain Marvel, Silver Surfer, and Warlock, then, well, I’m not out anything but my time, am I?

It’s like grabbing the tallest stack of comics you can imagine from the ultimate free funny book library. The biggest problem is deciding where to start, and then finishing what you begin. The full Lee/Ditko run on Spider-Man, or the full Lee/Ditko run on Dr. Strange? Two-hundred and fourteen books by Gene Colan? (Though that enthusiasm was later tempered by discovering many of those hits were for cover-drawing credits, rather than interiors — did I mention the browsing experience of MDCU was crap?)

A hundred eighty-nine hits for John Buscema doesn’t seem like a lot … until you realize there aren’t any Conan books here, and this is all prime superhero stuff — Thor, Fantastic Four, and that classic Avengers run. There’s just so much here … the Peter David Hulks that I never read, more than six hundred hits for Jack Kirby, reaching back to Marvel Mystery Comics #12 from 1939 …

Where will I find the time to read all these books? Just building a reading list is a full-time job!

Am I missing some favorites? Sure. There are the victims of cloudy or lapsed licenses, like Conan and Master of Kung Fu, and some sad omissions like the original runs of Iron Fist and Ghost Rider. But there are also some nice exclusives, like the retro Captain America: 1940s Newspaper Strip, a 3-part series published in 2010 that tells a “lost” Captain America tale in an updated Golden Age style.

In the final analysis, despite these three thousand words (!) bitching about the interface, I count myself a fan of MDCU, because there is just so much here to read and enjoy. There are gaps in the library, to be sure, and fans looking for recent books may be especially disappointed, but for an old timer like me, this really is digital comic book heaven. I like reading these old books on line far more than I thought I would, and maybe it’s a good thing I can’t do it on a tablet, and that the interface is trying to kill me, because I might otherwise disappear into the digital depths of Marvel’s universe and never come back.

Gene Colan panel from Iron Man & Sub-Mariner #1 (1968), which I never would have enjoyed without my digital subscription

And with this I realize I have made a near-complete departure from the original mission of Longbox Graveyard. Instead of organizing, cataloging, re-reading, and evaluating my Bronze Age books out in the garage, I am instead leaping back even further in time to read lost Silver Age books, or scrubbing forward to read select series from the missing decades when I thought I was quits with comics for good. I feel that I am in love with comics like never before, and that I want to steal away to a cabin in the woods (with WiFi!) for a week to just read, and read, and read some more. I want to gorge myself on these treasures until four-colored digital ink shoots out my nose. It has driven home for me that I am a reader far more than I am a collector, and I can clearly see a day when I’d happily dispense with paper comics altogether in favor of this digital form that will some day prove superior.

Some day, but not today. But even today it is pretty good. Aside from the browsing, and the sorting, and the list handling, and the sharing tools, and the …

(UPDATE: As of March 2013, Marvel has released an iPad native version of their service, which seamlessly recognized my subscription and allowed me to finally enjoy Marvel’s library on my device-of-choice. The reading experience is fast and slick, and while search still needs work it has shown considerable improvement over the original, desktop experience described above. Bravo, Marvel, for bringing your library to iPad! Subscription renewed! Download your free copy of the app HERE.)

NEXT WEDNESDAY: #31 Longbox Shortbox

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