How do we see the Eternals?
By Jack Kirby

That is the question. And it's a big question, because it involves us all in a great cosmic adventure which began when the dinosaurs split the scene and humanity was first pushed on the stage of that universal Gong Show we call History.

Something happened back there, among the steaming ferns and moving continents of prehistoric Earth. And neither Walter Cronkite nor Howard Cosell nor your ever-lovin' current events teacher was there to take notes on the events we must nowadays sift from the myths, the mummies, and the skeletons that lay buried beneath tons of soil.

So what happened there, in that unreported, unwritten, mystifying beginning of all things? How many mammoth events provided the oil which still spins the wheels of this plastic pickle-works we hail as modern civilization?

I feel that playing around with this sort of conjecture is highly entertaining, and that we should aim our gunsights at this giant puzzle we've inherited more often. We can't leave it all to the professors, pundits, and paperback prophets. The puzzle belongs to you and me as well. And beneath the Royal Aegis of Marvel Comics, you and I can get together and- carefully provisioned with all the junk food we can carry- just have ourselves a ball with the grand discussion of all the ideas and characters which spring from the yarns in pages such as these.

If you've read ETERNALS from issue #1, or just hooked in somewhere along the succeeding episodes, I'm certain that you can define the perspective of my thoughts on the subject.

My people and concepts are for your entertainment only. It is really my definition of life itself. I see it as a space and time given to the average reascal to utilize in a pleasurable manner until his slot is empty.

So, what do you think happened back there amid the perhistoric swamps? Could it have been something close to what I've presented? Are the Eternals, Deviants, and Space Gods a pleasing conjecture? Just what are your fancies? Are they serious, somber, flamboyant, or just plain freaky?

Whatever the case, send your letters to:

Eternal Utterings
P.O. Box 4943
Thousand Oaks, CA 91360

Let me know what you think, and we'll work ourselves up a smoky storm together!

-Jack Kirby

Gods, Myths, and UFOs.
By Jack Kirby

All three of the above have never ceased to plague the thoughts of man since the day his mind first began to sort out all the details of his total environment.

Naturally, some of us in this day of advanced technology seem to think we've got it all summed up. But the sales of books and articles which speculate on the unknowns of our universe soar daily. We're still absorbed by the fantastic possibility of making a connection between the elements of our past and present that we feel might have an important bearing on our future.

What are we looking for in these unknowns? What do they represent that frustrates all interpretation? It seems that- somewhere in our collective make-up- there is a missing dimension which seeks definition, a need for omnipresent guidance from beings of unlmited power, a yearning for personal contact with the heavens, a ravenous curiosity to search the stars for...what?

"That," as Shakespeare wrote, "is the question." What is this strange instinct that turns us from the unsolved mysteries still locked in Mother Earth to make a fetish of the unseen X's that lie beyond our skies? Do we have some sort of group hang-up that derails us whenever there's sky phenomena involved?

Isn't it strange that our mythical Gods and Goddesses live "up there"- as opposed to the terrible spirits and demons who reside in the hot, fiery core of the regions "down there?" Can it be that some part of us has its roots in deep space? Are we descended from a species that is not planet bound? There, again, is the eternal question! Why is there this mass obsession with the sky?

Despite the numerous "saucer flaps," and the intriguing speculations concerning artifacts of dead civlizations, is it the opinion of this writer that the true revelations which will lay bare our beginnings are still matters for the distant future. Our capabilities for achieving the truth are unfortunately too limited in this age. The hope lies with the evolution of instruments forged in the technical tinker shops of today. When they've reached the proper stage, they will guide our hands to the truth.

Of course, that will be an important time for our descendants. What this simple truth may promise for mankind will be their affair. We shall be phantoms of the past, perhaps adding to the complex and mysterious collage that man leaves behind him in his passage through the years.

How ironic it would be to witness the somber rituals of a Spider-Man cult in 2540 A.D.- or to be present at the "strength olympics" held in honor of the Hulk. New myths created in the twentieth century, and scattered by the printing press throughout the world, may well enlarge the giant puzzle that is humanity and make things much more difficult to decipher.

But we needn't worry about all that. We can have a great time with the few grains of truth already in our possession and space out by fantasizing the rest.

Let's dig up the ancient pots and chipped statues, and pore over the mystic symbols that give us a charge. Let's chase the UFOs from cornfield to briar patch and yell, "Hey! I've just seen a little bug-eyed dude from Venus!" Chances are that we'll never bring back one item to prove it, but- what the heck!- it's a great game. Everybody gets excited, and some poor nerd who wouldn't be noticed by his mother suddenly finds himself on television, telling the world via network hookup how he was picked up by a saucer in Denver and dropped off in downtown Miami ten minutes later.

I think that another, more rational way of truth-guessing can be found in pure entertainment- like reading THE ETERNALS. Something's there, all right! Something's possibly off target. But one thing is for sure: You won't be bored! In fact, you may get deep into the fun-game that held the interest of some of the real "biggies" of the history books. Good company, eh?

-Jack Kirby