The Doctor Who Monster Book.

Forget Spider-Man. If you have any sense at all, there's only one thing in this world that you want to see stuck to the side of a building.

And that's a police box.

Reader, in 1977, I saw that police box. It was stuck to the side of a building in Blackpool, Lancashire, England, Britain, Europe, the Earth.

Inside that police box was not a policeman. It was an exhibition.

It was a Doctor Who Exhibition. An exhibition that could only be accessed by entering that box and then descending a flight of stairs, into a basement.

Within that basement were many things.

There was a Dalek threatening you as you arrived.

There was a Sea Devil pointing its deadly round thing at you.

There were yet more Daleks, roaming around on rails, doing yet more threatening.

On the walls were stills from the making of the show, including the story The Talons of Weng-Chiang. How all visitors must have gasped at the site of ex-jungle-brawler Leela being nibbled on by a giant rat.

Most important of all to this story, there was a shop. And that shop sold only things related to the universe's greatest Time Lord.

From that shop, I got The Doctor Who Monster Book, a staple-bound book filled with articles about the Doctor's greatest enemies. In its centre was a poster by Chris Achilleos, the man who did all those covers for the show's epic Target novelisations.

In the modern age, none of this might seem that exciting but, in the dark days of the 1970s, when the internet didn't yet exist and old episodes couldn't be found on videotape, a book filled with photos of the show's greatest menaces was a Godsend. At last I could be reacquainted with the monsters I recalled from years gone by and I could meet other monsters I had no memory of at all.

There was a Giant Robot. There was a Zygon. There were hordes of Daleks on Westminster Bridge and a Mechanoid doing whatever it was Mechanoids did. Most intriguingly of all, there were the Zarbi, man-sized ants with human legs. What terrible powers of evolution had combined to create such a creature? Truly, this was the greatest book ever published.

I accept that this site is called Steve Does Comics and that that book was not a comic. But I don't care. Some things are so awesome they have to be shared with the world. Even things that aren't comics.

And if you fear it's too much to ask of flesh and blood to endure a post about a book on a comics site, just thank Rassilon I didn't do a post about the picture cards I used to get from boxes of tea. Now there is a post I'm saving up for when I have nothing at all else left to write about.

The most forgettable comics I have ever owned. Part 10: Dr Who Annual 1978.

As we all know, Saturday was the most important day in human history.

It was the 50th anniversary of the first ever broadcast of the first ever episode of Dr Who.

To celebrate, the BBC flung everything but the kitchen sink at us, creating the impression that it was impossible to switch on the TV without being confronted by a show about the Gallifreyan gallivanter.

Even their rivals Channel 5 got in on the act by showing the second of Peter Cushing's 1960s Dr Who movies.

For a Doctor Who fan, it felt like Christmas always felt when you were a kid.

As for the various shows, I generally enjoyed the 50th anniversary episode. Multiple Doctor stories are always going to suffer from the fact that no story really needs more than one infallible hero in it, meaning the need to give each of them things to do, and say, forces the inclusion of dialogue and actions that are fun but not vital to drive the story forward, causing a certain saggage in the pacing.

But it had the return of the Zygons, the return of Totters Lane, the return of the old opening titles and Susan's old school.

And what sort of madman wouldn't be excited by the sight of all incarnations of the Doctor turning up to save Gallifrey - especially when we get a cameo from Peter Capaldi's rather terrifying eyeballs?

And then, of course, there was the return of Tom Baker; as barking mad as ever.

I also enjoyed Adventures in Space and Time, the drama about the show's creation; and also The Five-ish Doctors, Peter Davison and Georgia Moffett's side project about Davison, McCoy and Colin Baker desperately trying to force their way into the 50th anniversary episode in defiance of all opposition. It managed to be funny, touching and oddly sweet at the same time, with all concerned coming out of it well, with their willingness to send themselves up. I especially enjoyed John Barrowman's horrific secret and Ian McKellen's Sylvester-McCoyless scene with Peter Jackson.

"This is all very well and good," I hear you cry. "But what does this all have to do with comics?"

Well, you cry right because this is what it has to do with comics. As well as once owning a copy of TV Action in which Jon Pertwee decided to teach a six-legged camel a lesson by head-butting its feet, I once also had a copy of the 1978 Dr Who annual.

I'd love to regale you with tales of its magical contents...

...but I can't remember any of them.

I know it, "starred," Tom Baker because it says so on the cover above. I have a feeling it also co-starred Leela, the most well-spoken woman ever to have been raised in a jungle. I suspect it may have included crossword puzzles and the odd Ludo style board game because such books always did. It possibly had some educational content about space travel and science. Who can know?

Were the daleks in it?

I fear not - or I should surely have remembered.

Strangely enough, despite my childhood love for the show - and my still burning ambition to be a Sea-Devil when I grow up - I never owned another Dr Who annual. I suspect that I feared such books might not live up to the knuckle-chewing drama of the TV show and therefore stayed away from them.

Still, I like to feel that, in purchasing it, I made my contribution to the Dr Who industry that has made the show financially viable enough to last for as long as it has.

According to one of those online, "Work out how long you're going to live," things, I'm expected to die at the ripe old age of 92. But those people are fools! There's no way I shall ever allow myself to die before the 100th anniversary episode. Even if I have to turn myself into a Brain of Morbius type monstrosity to do it, I shall be there to see it.

To be honest, I'm counting down the days already.

The most forgettable comics I have ever owned. Part 1: TV Action #64.

Many a time have I opined on this blog about the comics I most wanted as a child but never got the chance to own.

But there's a polar opposite to that.

And that's comics I did have as a child but then somehow totally forgot I'd ever possessed.

The wonder of the internet is that, every so often when you're blundering around on it, you randomly stumble across just such a comic.

And that leads us into this brand new feature.

Of course, it's all highly unfair. The fact that I don't recall having once owned a comic may not necessarily be a reflection on its quality. It may be that I had it for just a short while or that my brain has become mysteriously clouded when it comes to that certain matter.

Still, that's not going to stop me posting those mags on here. Personally, I see it as a chance to thrust them once more into the limelight and at last give them the attention they no doubt deserve.

The first offering is TV Action #64, which I'd totally forgot I'd ever owned until I saw its cover posted on Dougie's Some Fantastic Place.

What's up with me? That comic has Dr Who! It has UFO!  It has Stingray!

Admittedly, it also has The Persuaders and Hawaii Five-0, which are perhaps less likely to lodge in the youthful imagination.

Most of all, how could I ever have forgotten the sight of Jon Pertwee being chased across a desert by a six-legged camel?

And you know what? The depressing thing is that, somehow, even having become reacquainted with that cover, I still recall nothing of the contents.

Sometimes I despair of myself.