What was one of the most difficult problems facing both NASA and the Soviet cosmonaut program during the early days of space exploration, you may ask? Well, to be sure, designing man-rated space vehicles and life support systems were important challenges. But the big question was, how will we celebrate Christmas in space? And... who with? Join us as we look at how this problem was tackled by some of America's most skilled imagination specialists. Skilled at what, exactly? Let's see.


The sharp eyed reader will notice that this is not the original printing of "Monsters On Mercury," but a reprint from a 1966 issue of "Fantasy Masterpieces." The even more sharply envisioned reader will be amazed at the chutzpah of a Marvel Comics willing to recycle stories barely four years old. And our readers posessed of amazingly perceptive powers of observation will already know that "Monsters On Mercury" didn't actually appear in Journey Into Mystery #62, but rather issue #78, proving that not only was 60s Marvel already cannibalizing itself, but that it didn't even know where it was cannibalizing itself from. Wake up, Stan!

But who cares! We're on Mercury! And here there be monsters.


You may be asking yourself, how do our intrepid space explorers manage to land on the sizzling hot surface of Mercury, the planet closest to the sun? Well, it's simple, they did it at night.


Mercury! Not boiling hot on the sun side nor freezing cold on the dark side, as was previously supposed, but a comfortable, breathable shirt-sleeve sort of temperature. Holy cow, indeed.


What's wrong Mr Spaceman, did you get a monster in your Lee-Ditko monster story? Suck it up!


What are the odds of the astronauts all biting into a York Peppermint Patty at the same exact time?


Spending Christmas Eve stuck somewhere remote, confronted with weird beings prying into your thoughts? I see you've ALSO spent the holidays with my family!

(rim shot, nervous audience laughter)


Corralled on a distant planet by giants from the unknown doesn't look like trouble to these guys, but add a big draped cone to the mix? NOW they've got trouble.


Were they jumping to conclusions when they assumed this object was a time bomb, or were they jumping to conclusions when they included a demolitions expert on a space mission, which usually doesn't involve this kind of blasting? One thing's for sure, their cloning technology is on point.

Because all those guys look alike. That's the joke.


He looked inside and found the Statue Of Liberty and that this was Earth all along, right? Right?


"We read your minds and you were all thinking of this weird green object with yellow and red spots. Except for one guy, he was thinking about some kind of spinning top made of clay, or something."


It was all peace and brotherhood until one of the aliens asked "So... what did you bring us?" And then it became the worst nightmare imaginable, the nightmare of going to a Christmas thing and it was a gift thing and you didn't know so you're the only one there without a gift and you really feel like a dope, and then somebody hands YOU a gift and then you feel even worse. In fact I'd have to say the only thing worse than a story about spending Christmas on a far off planet with alien beings, is TWO stories about spending Christmas on a far off planet with alien beings! Of course we're kidding. There can't be more than one of these lame attempts to mix holiday cheer and space monsters, right? Right?


The snow was silently falling on that silent night on that alien planet, and all was silently calm! Was there, somewhere lurking, a holy space infant, tender and mild, born both under and on a far off star?


Many people judged it a harsh punishment when the Quaker Oats man was forced into outer space exile. He knows what he did!


Christmas Eve! They're out there and you can't stop them! You had such hopes. You travelled thousands of light years to an alien world just to get away from visitors on Christmas Eve. But they're out there. Well, dust off the fruitcake, I guess.


His thoughts went back a year ago when they gathered at the spaceship. They'd been told it was a lineup for... let's see. "Beanie Babies" is way too dated. "Nintendo" is too vague, "Funko Pops" is overused... "Labubu" - that's it. They'd been told they were lining up for the new Labubu blind box collectible toys. But instead they were being blasted into space!


Anyway they arrived at their new home and they started working hard planting crops and they were pretty sure they knew everything they needed to know about making agriculture work on a strange planet, but then somebody said something about planting a tree so that they'd have a Christmas tree for Christmas in a year, and somebody else said, I think trees take a lot longer than that to grow, and then they all realized they'd just been faking it all this whole time, and that they were all going to starve.


But then they realized strange forms lurked in the shadows, waiting for just the right moment to make themselves and their desires known. But enough about the carolers and their demand for hot chocolate, what about the aliens?


Mysterious strangers with vast powers carrying strange objects on Christmas? All we're missing is a little boy with some drums and we have everything we need for a poorly animated holiday TV special!


Nothing quite as exciting as that Christmas Eve anticipation of knowing exactly what's under that wrapping, waiting for it to be unwrapped so you can confirm that you knew exactly where this story was going even though they just needed to drag it out one extra page. The magic of Christmas!


And look at that, the aliens read their mind and constructed a Christmas tree for them, complete with tinsel and shiny balls and a star on top and sheet music so that even the space aliens can figure out how to pronounce the "Wenceslas" in the Christmas carol he's the star of.

Remember to keep the spirit of the season in your heart, and also remember that if they haven't read the story before, it's new to them. So don't be afraid to recycle those plotlines and reprint those recycled plotlines, until all the used and re-used and re-re-re-used stories fall softly over the good land.

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