There is almost nothing I hate more than talking on the telephone. If you’re like me, then you’re probably like me. Mashing this warm box up against your ear, listening to someone hem and haw while they get to the point… to say nothing of the awful intrusion of the ring itself. But nothing, no nothing compares to the white-hot rage that being forced to hear someone’s insipid one side of a telephone conversation. Usually about some facet of their life that’s either intensely private or intensely boring.
This week I’m on vacation (all week!) so I did a kind of quickie strip (not as quickie as I’d planned, as usual). Next week will be an even quickier strip, so prepare yourself for disappointment. There are a TON of different comics projects I have to get completed in like the next two weeks or so, which I will say more about (next week) in a separate blog post–in some cases, as they’re confirmed and I am able to talk about them. Sooo exciting.
Okay! Click on the image above or right darn here to begin the hating! See you next week!
What’s funny about this new strip is that I told my comics class about it the other day, and almost no one in the room, even the few people over 40, had ever heard of Condorman. Most had heard of The Greatest American Hero, and all knew the song, which I of course sang a little bit of. It was beautiful.
I have never seen Condorman–as a kid we belonged to a church that frowned sternly on movie theatres (and TV, and bowling, and most other things). So I never saw a single movie in the theatre between the ages of 5 and 15. However, I would often get the novelizations of movies, which would allow me to join very haltingly–and always awkwardly–in with movie-related conversations at school. Sometimes it would work, and sometimes not. I had the paperback book version–complete with 8 black and white photo pages!–but no one had ever seen it. So when I make clever Condorman references… well, you can just imagine.
This really looks like a terrible movie, now. Maybe McG will remake it soon, or something.
ANYway, this week’s strip focuses its lackadaisical eye upon these two forgotten greats of the 1980’s, and the awesome (but short) story that their battle would have produced. Rated “P” for “Pratfalls”.
ALSO: Last week’s strip, dogged by website problems, is now up in its right place as well.
Well, for some reason I can’t get my site to act right this morning, and I’m running late. So I’ll just try and upload it here to the trust old blog. Let’s see…
Okay, that seemed to work. You can click on the image above or right darn here to view the strip.
This is largely self-explanatory, I think. I’d write more about it, but I’m running late, and wrestling my site has burned up much of my morning. Feel free to ask any questions you might have: I could talk for weeks about teeth.
Christopher Howe Holston is one of my oldest and best friends. Among the group of friends I’m a happy part of, referring to something as “Holston-style,” or “pulling a Holston,” or “only Holston would think up something crazy like that,” is a necessary part of most conversations. The thought processes the dude brings to the world are nuts, but beautiful nuts. He’s also a member of the crew of Bullship, if you’re musically inclined. I’m listening to their latest album right now, as a matter of fact.
I could go on in this vein for quite a while, but you really need to know the dude. But when you do a weekly strip that’s really just an excuse to practice making comics, you can choose ANYTHING YOU WANT as a subject. It’s personally pleasurable to me to talk about my friends, so this week I introduce to you my man Chris Holston, aka “Ghostwind,” aka “TIS I! THE DREAMWEAVER!,” aka “Firefly.”
In other news, I have a backlog of non-DHARBIN! strip work to get done over the next three weeks, so I’m going to try and do much simpler strips during that time for my weekly, or I’ll drive myself crazy. I mean, I do after all work full-time, too.
