Posted by:Kent is not thrilled with this situation to start with. Nor is Brighton, of course, but she has the advantage of having had somewhat more time to absorb the culinary constructs wielded by Melody into her personal lexicon. Kent has had no such time, being thrust into the situation with the immediacy that only a heartbroken lady friend can bring to bear. As such, our man is like a sailor adrift on a sea of tomato bisque in a saltine boat, a gastronomic Odysseus (Foodysseus?) attempting to fight his way back to common idiomatic ground.
He has only a tenuous grasp on the situation, is my point. I'm not sure if that was clear or not, so there you have it.
I yesterday completed my perusal of David Wong's novel John Dies at the End. It's kind of a difficult book to describe, but I shall attempt to do so concisely: imagine, for a moment, that Howard Phillips Lovecraft loved dick jokes. That about sums it up. There's weirdness of all sorts, unspeakable horrors from beyond the veil of reality, and (just to even it all out) cocks. Basically, this book is Ron Jeremy and your brain is an eighteen-year-old girl with fake boobs and daddy issues. The book fucks your brain hard, and after a while your brain begins to realize it likes it and decides to take up a career having plasticky, overacted sex with hirsute men in front of camcorders for money.
No, sorry, metaphor breaks down at that point. Let's try that again. Your brain realizes it likes it, and won't let you put down the goddamn book for anything. Once the mysteries start showing up (and they are there right from the goddamn start), you are both terrified of the possibilities behind them and insanely curious as to what is causing the weird phenomena plaguing the book's protagonists. I won't call David and John heroes unequivocally (though they do assume that role sometimes)--they're basically just a couple unlucky bastards who wind up caught in a whirlwind of otherworldly horrors and only manage to keep their heads above the rising tide of Evil-with-a-capital-"E" thanks to quick wits, unorthodox approaches, and cracks about dongs. Also, an Irish Setter with what some might call an unusual skill set.
You may be getting the idea that I'm recommending John Dies at the End, and you'd be right. Just pick up a copy and you'll see what I mean.
-James
P.S. The sketchy lines are present in the art because I did a color scan of the comic instead of a black-and-white one. 'Tis not Sarah's fault. Mea culpa.
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