It’s been a surprisingly good week for me, if you were at all curious about the man behind the curtain, the wizard behind the Oz. But who cares about that, let’s talk about a week of comics that was probably way better than it needed to be. TEBIOS! Because hell, I think this gimmick has legs, at least until I run out of recognizable languages to translate it into.
“If music be the food of love, play on,” wrote Shakespeare, but we don’t care about that because his plays didn’t have pictures, and comics don’t have music. C.O.M.I.C.S: Come, Our Menagerie Is Crumbling Swiftly.
Another week, and another pretty phenomenal week for comics. Sure, 90% of that is because of James Stokoe, but heck, what more do you need? COMICS! Sometimes they are great.
Hey look! I have returned from the ashes, like a tiny child playing in the fireplace too long. Let’s bring it back with a bang as I talk about too many comics over the last two weeks, and I probably regret doing this. Ready? Let’s start.
There’s only two words in the world that matter, and those two words are COMICS and NOW. Prepare your eyeballs for opinions, this week I get emotional.
Sometimes you just want to dance until your heart stops, which is impossible because you are a dancing robot, and you have no heart. You have no heart, and you must cry. You also don’t have eyes or tear ducts. So you dance. The dance you do is the robot. DUCK YOU SUCKERS, IT’S TIME FOR COMICS