The photo above is of three delighted new subscribers to Mad magazine, courtesy of me. They arrived home from whatever it is they get up to during the day — who knows? could be anything — and found this surprise waiting for them alongside stacks of bills and mail appeals intended for their parents.

Who are those parents? They are my niece and her husband. Which makes these three my Great Nephews. Used in this way, though, the term may be misleading — I think they’re really pretty good, but “Great” seems like overstepping — so better to say that I’m their Great Uncle. (Much better.)

Why did I buy them an unsolicited subscription to Mad magazine? To ruin their youth, that’s why. Mad magazine has been a thumb in the eye to parents for 60 years and counting, and I’m proud to help continue that tradition. (That, plus I got a great deal on gift subscriptions.) Look again at the burst of excitement etched across their faces. I wish I could go back in time and do it again! It’s sure to be pandemonium in that house for quite some time.

It’s not just my niece I’m bedeviling with my mischief. Here’s a photo of another happy new subscriber, who was also surprised with a subscription that began on the same day:

Clearly, the derangement took hold immediately. (The leering Mexican demon masks in the background of the photo can’t hold a candle to this lunacy.) Here’s another shot from the same milieu, taken later that night:

No video games in sight. The Usual Gang of Idiots must be proud. Later, I saw this boy’s adolescent-anxiety-drenched sister reading this copy of the magazine, and then when I went looking for it later it was gone. I found out that my wife had taken it to read at work. Where does she work? She’s a respiratory therapist. At a hospital. (I have visions of patients dropping like flies while co-workers struggle to do the Mad Fold-In.) Seems everyone in our family is mad about Mad.

The voice of Charlie Brown has been arrested on suspicion of stalking. And no, it wasn’t the little red-haired girl he’s accused of stalking.

It’s Batman.

As a zombie.

A big tip of the hat to the genius who came up with this.

Here are the covers of the 119 comic books that were on newsstands the month I was born. (And yes, if it seems important to know what was available the month you were born, you can enter your own date of birth too.)

My God, I wish I had all of those issues. Yes, even though every single week I consider how best to dispose of the thousands upon thousands of comics already in my possession, I might be willing to run over a close relative with a cement roller to get these. At various times I’ve had probably a third of these (bought, obviously, later in life). How did I ever let them go?

Which major superhero has the most laughable rogue’s gallery of enemies? Wonder Woman. Check out the list.

In retrospect, these seem so obvious.

Next week is San Diego Comic Con (or, as newbies call it, “Comic-Con International”), and I’m already making plans. This will be my 25th straight year of attending the Con with friends and having a terrific time.

In those 25 years, I’ve gotten to know San Diego pretty well, both from visiting the Con and from falling in love with San Diego and finding lots of other reasons to visit two or three times a year. That is, I thought I knew it well — until I got a look at this.

“This” is a new website, Sherpa Reviews, that profiles luxury travel in San Diego. The people behind the site are great people and I wish them a lot of success, because they’re offering something I wish I’d had years ago: a topographic map of the greater San Diego area, with points of interest clearly marked and with clickable icons for restaurants, hotels and activities. I’m admittedly geographically challenged, so this has given me an entirely new perspective on San Diego — like, what’s next to what else — that I’d never been able to keep straight in my head before. But even if I weren’t somebody who can get lost going from one room to another, I think I’d find something here that I didn’t know about before. (For example: the restaurant Searsucker. Never heard of it before. Now I want to try it.)

I’m sure I’ll be consulting this while I’m in San Diego next week, and thereafter.

They left one out: Superman most definitely suffers from Superman Complex.