Unca Cheeks the Toy Wonder's Silver Age Comics Web Site!
(... and Why I Love Them...)
If there's any one thing, in particular, which has "soured" me on Marvel Comics' "mutant" franchise, on the whole -- and the baseline X-MEN titles, in particular -- it's the fact that the series' essenttial storytelling premise has been so completely and thoroughly bollixed up, over the years.
This is considerably more impressive a feat (in a horrible, negative sort of way, I mean) than it might otherwise first appear. The original Jack Kirby/Stan Lee series conceptualization was so streamlined and elegant, it really should have proven all but idiot-proof.
Premise: five teenaged "mutants" -- under the watchful eye and methodical tutelage of a sixth, older genetic anomaly -- dedicate their lives to the seeking out and recruitment of others similarly gifted.
What said teen cabal has to offer the other mutants they find, quite simply, is this:
Hope.
Hope that they might -- one day -- find the requisite emotional wherewithal and gumption to make places for themselves, within the larger context of the human societal fabric. (Modern Day "X" Equivalent: "Hope that I can find a nice, isolated mansion in Westchester, where I can hide from human society.")
Hope that they might come to recognize the commingled blessings and responsibilities of their more-than-human status, and better learn to utilize said gifts in the service of others. (Modern Day "X" Equivalent: "Hope that I can become increasingly sullen and obsessive over the fact that I have incredible super-powers. Dammit.")
As stated: you'd honestly think the original series parameters
all but idiot-proof, wouldn't you...? 
One of the final conceptual "holdouts" of the original Marvel Mutants worldview to find steady employment within the baseline "X" books, some years ago, is practically the sole remaining mutie thereabouts whose predominant attitude doesn't make me want to slap his silly, self-pitying little face off with with a Louisville Slugger.
Ladies and gents: I give you one Sean Cassidy -- a.k.a., the high- decibel hero better known as The Banshee.
Ex-Interpol agent; ex-super-villain; and ex-"X-Man," the spirited and upbeat Mr. Cassidy was one of the vanishingly few members of Marvel's mutant team who -- wonder of wonders! -- actually seemed to realize that being "cursed" with powers sufficient to wipe out an entire Panzer division isn't exactly reason sufficient to curl up in the fetal position, naked, sniveling and whimpering the night away.
He, at least, clearly reveled in who and what he was... placing him an incalculable number of notches, characterization-wise, above the mewling, morose likes of (say) Maggot; Marrow; Rogue; or any of the other professional crybabies pointlessly taking up space within the pages of the core "X" books over the past decade or so.
Not only was the Banshee virtually the last X-MEN character to actually be demonstrably in some sort of "synch" with team founder Charles Xavier's lifelong dream of mutants opting for assimilation, rather than the weary, resigned donning of sackcloth and ashes; he also was -- as no less an expert than X-MEN villain emeritus "Magneto" declared -- "the only one of the new X-Men worth fighting."
... to which estimation, I surely would have
added: "Yeah... and he's also the only one of the new X-Men who
isn't a world-class moron [Colossus]; a smug, self-adoring pain in the
hinder [Storm]; insufferably "cutesy" [Nightcrawler]; or a raving
psycho-killer [Wolverine]." I'm just sayin', is all.
The resourceful (and eminently likable) Cassidy currently appears regularly within the pages of Marvel's relentlessly inane GENERATION X title, where he is busy being very badly written, indeed.
However: at least he has a regular, ongoing venue in which to hang his spandex leggings out to dry.
The other character slated for examination this time out, alas, doesn't even have that much going for him, at present.
That's both a pity and a shame, as the fundamentally decent (and self-effacing) Walter Newell -- better known to you, perhaps, as The Stingray -- has always seemed to me a true "break-out" character in waiting, lacking only that one decent, high-profile "shot" at winning a audience for himself, re: the Marvel Comics readership. [See cover reproduction, below]
Originally commissioned by the United States armed forces
to devise a means of stalking; subduing; and securing the violent and unpredictable
Namor, the Sub-Mariner, oceanographer deluxe
Newell cobbled up the visually arresting Stingray outfit solely as a
service to his country. (Namor's reputation, at that time, was largely
predicated upon his pronounced tendencies towards: a.) spearheading Atlantean
invasions of "the surface world" every other month; and b.) being the single
most insufferable butthead in all of Marvel Comics continuity.)
Never one to pawn his responsibilities off onto another, the Stingray suit was field tested by none other than Doctor Newell, his own bad self...
... and: it worked. The costume -- specifically designed to enable its wearer to combat (and defeat) one of the most powerful "rogue" heroes in all the Marvel Universe -- performed as advertised, and Prince Namor was placed on humiliating public display, in anticipation of his upcoming "trial" for various and sundry crimes and offenses versus the peoples of "the surface world."
That's always been one of the most appealing elements of the whole Stingray shtick, actually: the notion that this bookish, unassuming research scientist -- who had No. Interest. What. So. Ever. In butting heads with, say, Doctor Doom every other month, or what-have-you -- was eminently capable of holding his own against damned near anyone in the entirety of the Marvel Comics canon, just short of The Silver Surfer or Thor. [See cover reproduction, below]
Never thinking of himself as anything more than a "weekend super-hero" at best, Doctor Newell has served with distinction (albeit briefly) as an Avenger, and is probably best remembered for the prominence of his role within the Mark Gruenwald/George Perez- crafted "The Serpent Crown Affair" storyline; the latter of which pretty much served as the "high point" of the MARVEL TWO-IN-ONE series' run, overall. [For a representative sampling of same: see page reproduction, immediately below]
(If you were to inclined to argue, at this juncture, that being associated
with "the very best MARVEL TWO-IN-ONE storyline ever" was roughly analogous
to being the designated honors student of the local high school's Remedial Woodworking
class... well: I certainly wouldn't attempt debating the point
with you, for goodness sakes.)
Still: the comparative skimpiness of the character's resume overall notwithstanding... I, for one, always found Stingray's decided lack of the now- standardized (to the point of ritual) Marvel Comics "Breast-Beating In a Heavy Angst Sauce" bill-of-fare a refreshing change from the post-Stan Lee "norm" for that company.
Like the aforementioned Banshee: it's always nice to see the occasional character who actually seems to enjoy being able to perform the very feats we, as readers, have always fantasized about doing.
As opposed to whining like a spanked spaniel puppy, I mean.
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