Sorry for the lack of posts lately. Nothing's really riled me up lately for whatever reason. I guess the Super-Penis Follies were just too intense, leaving me depleted and flaccid. (Actually, as soon as I'm good and sure that the topic has finally died down, I'll spring a series of Penis Polls on you folks. First up: Doctor Octopus or Alfred the butler--whose is bigger?)
I was thinking about saying something about Johanna Draper Carlson's recent ax-grinding session, or maybe her possible attempt to provoke a feud between John Cooke and his former publisher TwoMorrows. But the former led me to write a brief-yet-boring essay on why it might not be the worst thing in the world for young manga readers to pick up some Marvel and DC comics (the short version: I would hope that it would convince these hypothetical readers that they like the medium of comics, regardless of format or genre, thus perhaps encouraging them to eventually try the kinds of comics published by Fantagraphics, D&Q, First Second, etc.). As for the latter, I didn't really have anything to say at all, other than I'm pretty sure I saw that Comic Book Artist cover earlier this year, leading me to think that Cooke is probably not trying to sabotage his former publisher.
Anyway, other than continuing phallocentric discussion and my getting irritated with Carlson, there's not much in which to sink my fangs. Of course, whenever I've made a post like this in the past, it's usually followed by a bunch of crazy shit which provides material for days and days of lazy posting. Perhaps posting a musical-type clip will hasten this process.
This is for you Johnny Bacardi!