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Pub

Pub last night with the usual crew. Unfortunately, as soon as I arrived, I realised that I was tired, and didn't really want to socialise with anyone. The people at my end of the table all seemed to be bellowing and/or making arrangements, neither of which I am very good at coping with at the best of times. Mood not enhanced by suddenly remembering something I'd meant to tell Lorna just before I left and trying to call home on my mobile, only to have no-one answer, despite the fact that I knew both of those spindly fuckers were in the same room were I'd left them 10 minutes before, staring at the phone, presumably both projecting their most feared caller onto it. Eventually I hung up, knowing that they'd instantly 1471 to find out who it was and call me back, which Archie did. Still, the frustration didn't help my misanthropic mood, nor did a subsequent throw-away comment from (a somewhat drunken) tinyjo who occasionally resents the fact that I care about those I live with. We both knew that she meant nothing by it, but my mood sagged further, not least through feeling guilty about inadvertently making her feel guilty for saying it. Relationships, eh?

The practical upshot was that I just sat and read comics. There was an interesting contrast between Judd Winick's 'Barry Ween: Boy Genius' (like 'Calvin & Hobbes', but with swearing. And without Hobbes. And Calvin really is a genius inventor. Sort of.) and Garth Ennis's 'Max Fury' (Garth Ennis's usual hard bitten Real MenTM fighting malarkey). Both were the end of a story arc, both involved death, both ended with the titular hero weeping, but 'Barry Ween' was vastly more moving and engaging, whilst still being funny. And it didn't involved anyone being strangled with their own intestines, which was a plus.

Current Site: What if Cartoons Got Saved? Warning: listen with headphones. This basically content-free crazy Christian site has the usual clouds background and rotating cross gifs, but features a quite astonishing song, like the evil twin of Jeff Buckley's 'Hallelujah'. Must be heard to be believed.

Comments

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
tinyjo
Feb. 28th, 2002 01:33 am (UTC)
It's not that you care about them, but that you seem to feel responsible for them somehow so that you get depressed/grumpy when they do stuff like that. I care about my friends and I'm sad for them when they're having problems, but in the end, I'm not responsible for their happiness and it doesn't generally make me depressed or anything like that. I guess it doesn't help that in general, your friends are more fucked up than mine.
tinyjo
Feb. 28th, 2002 03:00 am (UTC)
It occours to me actually that the only person who has that strong an effect on me is you and hence it's something I associate with love and not just friendship. Hence my instincts are aroused.
(Anonymous)
Feb. 28th, 2002 05:57 am (UTC)
Barry Ween more interesting then Nick Fury
I have to agree that Barry Ween wins hands down both for entertainment and for actual pathos... Strange, eh? Acutally it underlines just how fake and unaffecting all this ‘gritty realism’ comics stuff is. It’s like a caricature of Frank Miller, and he has become something of a cariacature (of) himself.

Of course it’s also probably true that people like us identify more with Ween than with Fury, or at least would doubtless prefer Ween to Fury if we had to meet them in person.

—Damian
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

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