
You’ve never seen G.I. Joe like this before.
Even in its own Golden Age, G.I. Joe comics were still a ultimately a vehicle to promote merchandise from other media. This is not to say that Hama and several artists didn’t spin gold, as I think the first 80 or so issues of the Marvel run still stands up in manner that I think would surprise many of today’s readers. What Hama was able to do while juggling was simply amazing, and it leaves what he could have done if unrestrained to the imagination of ‘80’s childhood- and now to IDW.
G.I. Joe: Cobra is a 4-issue limited series, and one of the three titles in IDW’s recently launched Joe line. They have recruited Chuck Dixon to pen the central title telling all new stories of a new, present day team, and brought back Hama to fill in gaps and backstory with Origins. Cobra, however, is not only new ground, it’s uncharted territory. It’s not about the front lines, battle cries, or scenes of team camaraderie. Infiltration, personal will, traversing the thin line between subterfuge and assimilation— it is those qualities and themes that propels G.I. Joe: Cobra. This is the series that follows Chuckles, who General Hawk has been given the task to go undercover and infiltrate what the team knows as Cobra. Like so many other stories of this mold, from from Triple X to Donnie Brasco (how is that for a spectrum!) it’s about finding an in and proving yourself more and more to gain acceptance and more access. The journey here is examines each step that brings you closer to your mission’s goal, and the price for that ground. Is there coming back? Do you also leave behind permanently the person that started the journey? It’s cliché, but it becomes an ultimate, personal, ends justify the means situation. . . and more importantly question.
In my interview with co-writer Mike Costa, he offered that during the process of the choosing the central character for this title, this was said:
“We want to do a book about a Joe going under cover in Cobra. Pick any Joe you want. You can even kill him in the end, if you want to.”
One wonders if he said ‘Chuckles’ or merely chuckled in reply. When Chuckles is chosen, the reader doesn’t know what will or could happen. There is something endearing about being expendable, and I think Costa and Gage (my impression is that Costa is doing the writing, and Gage is playing a bit the role of overseer – but I could be wrong) are able to locate that classic aura of unlikely (or perhaps it really is all too likely) likability that so many crime novelists are able tap into with their protagonists. There are always vices, and as a guy, and one who is – I like to think so – at least a remedial reader, it’s hard for me to not think we may be introduced to what will eventually be Chuckle’s demise.
“A beautiful girl.”
My only weakness.”
I know. In some regard it’s so trite. A character we are set up to like, or at least to enjoy the adventures of, has what may be an eventual demise set up by a self-aware prophecy that involves women. What it really is, however, is another example of how Chuckles is sleeping in both beds. Both for work, both also with passion.

What’s also interesting – for the ‘80’s fan – is a bit of a meta-reunion of former rawhides. Chuckles and Jinx. If Joe fans are apprehensive about anything, it is the fear of anything resembling an invasion of damn ninja in their titles, and though this could have easily been the first step in an unfortunate direction, it’s actually perfect. The term is not used, but we know what she is – what she was – and it illustrates yet another example in how (across all three titles) IDW is creating new, autonomous, Joe fiction, but also giving us unobtrusive nods to stories and former truths some of us love. Ninja are the classic, ancient practioners of espionage and sabotage – they are spies. In this instance Jinx is more of a handler. It is this dichotomy of current sensibility and nostalgic stroking that is truly the best of both worlds, but relayed to us in a manner that we lose nothing even if we are only a denizen of one. For a walker of both worlds the natural tension of the given narrative is joined by a giddiness of seeing old friends. Is that the Baroness? Are those Crimson Guard? Is Extensive Enterprises involved? We mentioned ‘crime’ before, but here is that extra layer in a mystery story. What fans know as Cobra is still very much an unknown to the Joe team (though we know from the Chuck Dixon series, Cobra is aware of them). It’s a use of dramatic irony playing off of past incarnations, a mystery to Chuckles we enjoy, but one that we ourselves have to perpetually be on guard about regarding our own true level of knowledge, as it is incomplete, parts borrowed and perhaps (hopefully) being exploited.
When the cartoon intro used the word ‘elite’ to describe the Joe unit, they weren’t talking about Chuckles. We weren’t allowed to know about this level, this cost, that allows the a top secret, elite, military group to operate. There is a gravity here that seems almost out of place – perfectly so – almost like that one-line in Star Wars, “many Bothans died to bring us this information”. It doesn’t seem to fit what we know, and what has come before, but didn’t we want to know? No we didn’t. Now we do.
Now you know.
You’ve never seen G.I. Joe like this before.
- Jay Tomio
Jan-ken-pon is the time traveling, force-walking, multiverse crossing column of Jay Tomio, owner of 1/3 of everything you see currently on screen, and the editor of Heliotrope. Some call him the Bodhisattva.














