You may know Bill Campbell's name, but chances are, you know his handiwork better, especially the Weird-Ohs models that burst on the pop culture scene in the 1960s. Enjoy looking back over the career of this colorful artist in over 700 brilliant photos and witty prose. From his early days painting model box tops for the Hawk Model Company to his invention of the iconic Weird-Ohs model kits, Bill has continued to create some of the most unique artwork the world has seen. Also discover his work for national ad campaigns, editorial cartoons, his box art, fine art, and the Weird-Ohs that never were. Now much of that work has been gathered into one volume that traces the entire arc of Bill's career, including his connection to the Manhattan Project, an initiative that may well have saved his life. Much of the art is presented here for the very first time.

"Humanity built its monolithic spires of hopes and dreams and tried to believe that the whole sordid mess actually meant something." Terapolis is an urban sprawl of global proportions. The vast city state has smothered whole nations, liberated humanity from the tides of history; the place is ripe with secrets... Here, billions of people live only to give themselves to The Gestalt. An esoteric technology, said to unlock the secrets of creation, it offers humanity the chance to realise its most-cherished and forbidden desires. For Silas Morlock, enigmatic Master of MorTek, The Gestalt is his greatest achievement, but little time remains to fulfil his purpose and save Mankind from itself; death gathers, an ancient struggle between good and evil nears its peak. On the other side, the Incunabula; bibliophiles who refuse to stop peddling the items most poisonous to the hold The Gestalt has on human minds. And then there's Adam, the misfit dreamer pulled into a conflict beyond his understanding. His own desire will take him on a terrifying journey into the heart of darkness. Poor Adam, he will learn the secrets of Terapolis; if they don't shatter his mind, he'll become the unlikely saviour for good... or ill. It's a struggle played out in the shadows, where the lines are blurred, and nothing is quite as it seems. For the lost souls embroiled, the stakes are the very highest. But secrets are for keeping, in the dark places...

THE doctors didn't believe me; they only believe in their pharmacopoeia -- a lot of addicts do -- but I made them believe in the end. I had to. The others left me no choice. Too many sleepless nights had ripped a gash in perception. Out there, on the far side, through the fog of delirium, I sensed their presence. I wasn't alone. I saw them hinted and outlined by the weak light that leaked from the waking world: sculptures of silhouette utter dark against the shadows of endless time. I knew; they'd been waiting, they'd been calling. Now they had me -- and they forced me to sit and write. This is what they told me to say.