I guess one positive to take from today’s thing is that Les is so tiny he’s barely visible. Presumable Frankie zooms off to follow, so he can tell Les he’s the location manager for the “Lisa’s Story” movie or some other entirely stupid development.
And, one supposes Cayla’s “It knows where we live” is probably just more world-weariness. I honestly don’t understand how these people can get out of bed in the morning, since everything is awful and futile and all plans are doomed to failure, and there is no chance of even a fleeting glimpse of happiness. Westview is one charismatic leader away from Jonestown–and that’s only because Les has no charisma; he would willingly serve the Kool-Aid with a smile. “You’ll all be with Lisa soon!”
I don’t understand why Batiuk writes this crap. I know he feels that “high art” is that which shows its depth by being all about depression and darkness and the complete lack of hope…and some works of art embody those things and do achieve greatness. But Batiuk doesn’t have the talent for it, and it’s long past time he should realize this.
But then, some fools nominated him for a prestigious award, because awards are often given to the bleak, and his focus changed forever.
Today, his Titanic is set and locked on course for the iceberg, and it’s far too late to alter course. Shame, really, he could have taken his place with Mel Lazarus, Ernest Thaves, Morrie Turner and Art Sansom. People who could reliably fill a comic-strip space. Nothing to be ashamed of, it’s a worthy occupation and gave some readers a grin or two.
Instead, he turned away and made readers wish that space was left blank. Or had an advertisement for cyanide.
Son of Stuck Funky 