Post Modern

‘Dan Davis’ as Andy Warhol.

I’ve been thoroughly enjoying all of you commenting on the shambling abomination that is Crankenstein’s Monster. It’s horror beyond imagination in the funny papers these days as Batiuk once again drags Lisa’s battered and abused corpse out to puppet around and demands Davis stitch it onto the recycled art patchwork of long dead gags that makes up modern day Crankshaft. Lisa Moore’s been more abused post mortem than poor Elmer McCurdy.

But at least when Les Moore does his dramatic dance of interpretive grief all over her grave, we know that Lisa is well and truly dead.

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When Life Gives You Lemons, You Make Second Rate Pizza And Eat It In The Parking Lot

I’m a little late with this spur-of-the-moment post, as this was from June 8th, but this The Komix Thoughts post amused me more than the entire run of “Crankshaft” AND all of Act III combined.

At a book signing in Akron at Luigi’s (yes, the book launch was at a pizzeria. A sterling example by Susan Cash, who was the marketing manager for the Press, of thinking outside the pizza box.), they closed for the afternoon, and we spent the day with people filling the restaurant and the line spilling out the door. The generous folks at Luigi’s even took food and drinks out to the people waiting in line to get their books signed. When they finally had to open for the dinner hour, we moved my signing table to the parking lot and finished the book signing there.”

So essentially, they threw him out. The inner workings of this man’s mind are just endlessly fascinating. I picture a lot of non-Euclidean gears, wheels and ramps, all leading nowhere, with peculiar atonal melodies whistling in the background. It’s like he lives in another dimension that only he can perceive or access.

Not going to one of these book signings is a major life regret of mine. Mind you, I never wanted to openly harass the guy or anything, but what I really wanted to do was pepper him with increasingly obscure FW questions until he reached his breaking point…if he even has one, that is.

“So, Mr. B, sir. There’s something I’ve wanted to ask you for a long, long time. Is Kerry Darin’s step-half sister, or is she his half-step sister? And how would Kerry and Summer be related?”

Things like that. And I’d have been all enthusiastic too, like I was a genuine FW superfan. I’d have worn a “Stay Funky!” T shirt, a fake Les goatee, and waved a homemade “Band Directors Make Better Music Together” sign, in the official FW font. And I’d have put tape on the corners, all haphazardly of course.

The rest of his post (you know where to find it) is pretty funny too, but man, that “Lisa’s Story” signing sounds like it was THE book signing to go to, like Jimi at Monterey or Van Halen at the US Festival. I’m sure all the other ones were, uh, “good” too, but that one sounds like it was a real barn burner.

Collecting My Thoughts

We have travelled back in time and entered the Age of the Skunk. Hideous visions await us.

Many ‘thanks’ to Beckoning Chasm for this DSH John art. I needed a new sleep paralysis demon.
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Back to the Future

Many apologies for the lateness of this post. I meant for it to go up hours ago, but then I spent half of yesterday with my head stuck inside the charred black interior of a Lang Platinum Electric Convection Oven, and the industrial strength degreaser fumes ended up getting to me.

Hello Darkness, my old friend.

Now, before you get concerned, I did this in the interest of job security. They can’t fire you from the gas station if you’re the only one who knows how to clean the oven. But if anything would make one contemplate sticking their head in an oven recreationally, it would be the hideous abomination we’re about to be faced with.

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