verbicide | domo arigato, mr roboto (Reply)

So last night, Dudley Manlove played the Top Ten Worst Songs of All Time. I'm annoyed, because I can't remember all of them. Of course we were drinking a lot. Among the list were: Xanadu, Take on Me, Don't Stop Believin', Mr. Roboto, Milkshake. Shit. That's all I can remember. Fuckity fuck fuck. It's going to drive me mad.

I had a lovely afternoon with

jeff_nw, who is awesome. Lunch at Jitterbug and much catching up as it had been forever since we'd seen each other. Insert 4 paragraphs of hyperbolic fawning here because omfg he is so cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute! And anytime I get to hang out with Jeff, I am a perky bunny for the rest of the day. He did make the mistake of telling Hobbes that he looked elegant and regal. Hobbes has been posing elaborately ever since.

Afterwards,

brabble called to tell me she was already at Elliot Bay Bookstore, so I zoomed over there. I stopped to pick up the latest issue of SiP. The most exciting part about this was easily finding parking for Pike Place Market (and The Golden Age Collectibles). I also bought Blankets, which from my perusal at UW Bookstore is very good, and has been excellently reviewed.

Off to Elliot Bay Bookstore where Sarah and I devoured Issue 69. I also finally bought Art Spiegelman's In The Shadow of No Towers. I've been wanting it for some time and felt spendy today.

Some pizza at Mario's and we walked back to my car, repeatedly assailed by drunk, horny Seahawks fans. It was ridiculous. The cat-calling and jeering is bad enough, but one of the fuckers actually reached out and grabbed my back with both hands. We both walked hurriedly away from the marauding throng. So not okay. Do not touch. I wanted to club them with a 2x4. Hiss.

Back home. It's so dark out, I keep thinking it's like 5 hours later than it really is.

I'm enjoy the series again. Which I really wasn't for awhile. At least things are moving forward. But as much as I love SiP and think Terry Moore has mad skillz, he does need to get over himself just a little bit. He takes himself too seriously or something. He posted this melodramatic thing in the SiP Forum about how the next two issues (68 & 69) were going to be EARTH SHATTERING.

I think I posted this before, but let me share it again:

"Forget everything you've read about what is coming up in the next few issues. Diamond Previews, interviews, my forum comments... they're all out the window. I have rewritten everything to come. If you care anything about Francine and Katchoo and their families, SiP 68 and 69 are going to rock your world. For me, I'm walking on clouds. It's not like I've changed the SiP story, it's like I've finally found it.

I'm not going to visit the forum again until 69 is completed. I don't want to say anymore or answer any questions. I want to stay in this magic place and not think about who is or isn't reading. The love and support you've all expressed to me has meant a great deal to me. I hope the next two issues will return that love and give you something to smile about in a world that badly needs smiles."

First of all, I think it's dangerous to set your readers up like that. And second of all...where's the Kaboom?

The most shocking thing about 68 was the weird change of art-style midway into the issue. Not sure what the point was of Ginger and Freddie. It was so random that outside of giving us insight into Freddie Femur: Still a LOSER, what's the point? What happened to the autopsy chick?

The Mary Midnight thing had already been alluded to, so that wasn't a big shock. And the continued bizarre, unprofessional behavior of Sara Bryan continues to irritate me. And why was Walsh being such an unmitigated dick?

Issue 69 is packed with Casey. What a turn around. I hated Casey at first. Or at least found her seriously annoying--now, I love her. What did Katchoo say? "God bless her little silicone heart."

The format of 69 is different. With a full page picture and surrounding narrative text for Casey, Francie and Katchoo --with regular panels on each of their lives in between. I really liked the update on Casey in Las Vegas. Well drawn, and funny, and sweet.

Francie and Marie. What. The. Fuck. Did Marie Peters suddenly become a cancer patient? The artwork is totally different from even just the previous issue. Even her hair is wrong. Obviously Francie is still struggling with her choices and I'm wildly curious about how Terry Moore is going to close the ten year gap.

And Tambi working for the FBI? Hilarious. Regardless, $4 billion can't be easy to walk away from.

And the ending? David. *sniffles* I've missed him. (I know he bores you, Sarah, but I want to see something nice happen to the poor guy!)

Okay. Next issue now, please.