Jim

     I'm not sure if I've already stated this but, just to make sure, I'll take the risk of repeating myself. Every few months, I re-read every single comic book in my possession. This takes hours upon hours to accomplish, usually devouring my normal reading life for at least a week. I did this about a month or so ago, but, I made a drastic mistake. I forgot to read Frank. In chapter 1 of volume 2, Manhog attempts to kill a bird, after suffering a head injury, he begins to worship Frank and becomes entirely delirious as his logic (which he didn't have much of to start with...) rapidly deteriorates. A can of silver paint applied to a skinned leg, a popped blood blister and an incident of near-drowning later, Manhog finally accomplishes his original goal, eating a freshly killed bird. The feel of this particular comic is very hard to put into words. It has a childlike appeal to it. 'Childlike' does not mean stupid or immature. I am positive that there are some freaky, abnormally intelligent and insightful 7 year olds out there who live this comic. I like this comic so much that I'm sure to read every single word inside of it. Whether it may be comments or publishing dates, I've read them all.   

     Frank is just one of the many, amazing comics that my dad decided to store in my bedroom one day. I've never really liked the superhero stuff, except Plastic Man. I admire meticulous artwork and effort. Upon discovering that Mad frequently used the same image in one of the features in an issue, I was extremely disappointed. Though I do go through my comic fades which are randomly born and eventually face sudden deaths, some of the masters have always stayed by my side. Well, before I wrap this up, I'd like to mention that you ought to read Jimmy Corrigan and I'd also like to dedicate this flimsy ELA blog post (which is barely worthy of containing this name) to Harvey Pekar, who died a few months ago... I do believe that the cause of his death was related to heart problems... Man, could I read that guy's rants, I was comforted to know that somebody besides myself was capable of feeling such repulsion towards ignorant beings. Heh, don't remember when Jackson  died but I won't forget the death of Harvey... I was, as usual sitting by the computer and listening to NPR... Well, this response is becoming much too conversational for my tastes, so I'll leave you 8th graders to your contemplation, teenage angst, and cellphones...