Ketchum is good. I don't read him as much as I used to--in my younger days I dug all that splatter punk stuff--Skipp and Spector, Edward Lee, David Schow-- all those cats. Oh, how the critics blasted that stuff, calling it obscene, foul, evil--which only made my friends and I want to read it even more. They called us perverts, monsters, future criminals. Idiots. All it did was turn us punks on to READING, and, in my case writing--what's so evil about that?
It's an age old argument. Fredric Wertham tried the same tactics in the fifties, successfully killing off the greatest comic books ever drawn or written, Tales From The Crypt, Vault Of Horror, Haunt Of Fear. Then a year later, out comes Rock and Roll, giving em all a new scapegoat. Splatter punk, punk rock, horror comics, and Stephen bloody King--these were our Gods, and guess what? We all grew up to be decent, sensitive, productive members of society.
So there'll always be a soft spot in my heart for ol Ketchum, bless his fiendish soul. Now and then I'll pick one up, give it a read, and although it's entertaining, it doesn't thrill me like it used to. Gettin old I guess. Need more cerebral stimulation.