No comics today. Was super busy both in and out of work. The very little time I had for reading was spent on Neil Strauss’ Emergency. With only 80 pages left, I’m now confident I can finish this before January ends.
Then my usual dilemma on what to read next comes.
I’ve several candidates: Why Comics? From Underground to Everywhere by Hillary Chute, because it’s a recommendation from my friend Nikki; Bird Box by Josh Malerman, because I’ve seen the Netflix movie and am curious about the source material; and Windblown World by Jack Kerouac, which has been sitting untouched in my library for close to a decade now. I’m also considering rereading Hunter S. Thompson’s Hey, Rube because I kinda miss reading Gonzo.
Something came from the mail today: a light-colored Herschel backpack. It the wifey’s belated birthday gift to me. Asked on why she decided on a backpack as a gift instead of, say, a Batman action figure, she replied: “So you can protect your comics when you claim them from Filbar’s.”
My wife, ladies and gentlemen. Ain’t she the best.
Picked up from where I left off in the Adam Glass run of Suicide Squad today. Issue #14 is kind of disturbing. I imagine feminists angrily raising their fists at the violent treatment of Harley Quinn here by her beloved “puddin,” the Joker. One scene shows her hanging by her neck, with a chain for a noose, as the Joker gleefully interrogates her. It’s sick, it’s twisted, and I wonder if this issue got flak when it was released years ago, even though there were fewer hotheads on the Internet back then, and political correctness wasn’t as big as it is today.
A comic book a day 