Monday, November 25, 2019

And we're back! I'm not sure I love my new house, or my current set-up--it's not what would traditionally be considered "ergonomic," and I may have to look into a lower-profile scanner since it's blocking my view of the TV but it's the only place it could go outside of well, outside--but it's gingerly moving towards what I want. I bought a ton of shelves to go with the ones I already had, in the hopes of getting a place for everything, everything in its place, and so forth; but I may have outsmarted myshelf--er, myself: I may have more shelves than I have wall space without blocking heaters. I needed one of the shelves for my kitchen, though: there wasn't a pantry, so I needed a wire shelving unit to put everything on--like the approximately 1800 bottles of water I have. I exaggerate, of course...slightly. Over the course of time, I'd occasionally buy big packs of water when it was on sale, to store in case of emergency. Then I'd put them in a pantry or a closet or my garage or whatever and forget about them, then buy some more. Ah, I'm sure they're fine. Maybe I could even stand to drink some, probably wouldn't kill me...

There were a few things that didn't make the move: one shelf spectacularly collapsed when my son and I were moving it. Most were cheap, Wal-Mart shelves. I swear some of them are meant to be put together with load-bearing cardboard...I also got rid of a pre-flatscreen Zenith that I remembered as weighing about the same as a dead sun, but it wasn't quite that bad; as well as my beloved but sadly defunct VCR. Still, I have books. So many books. After awhile, when your feet start to hurt from lugging them around, you wonder if they're all worth it; so I checked out a lesser-known title from the pile to see: from 2014, the Absence, written and illustrated by Martin Stiff.

This was a collection of a six-issue self-published series, which is impressive as hell. The art is reminiscent of Guy Davis, I think, and that's not a bad place to be. After World War II, a young man returns to a coastal village in England. He may be the only soldier to return; moreover, the town may not have been sorry to see him go. Meanwhile, a mathematician is funding a massive undertaking outside of the village, but what? And how could he afford it, which leads to the question 'what did you do during the war?' And are either related to a long-running, and accelerating, string of disappearances?

It's not a quick read, but it's an interesting one. It might have a few questions, but the one I get from it is, 'can you escape?' A horrible village, gossip, your reputation, your destiny; can you dodge any of them? The answer seems to be, 'not so much,' but give it a try and draw your own conclusions. I think I'll hang on to this one, even though it's a heavier hardbound to drag...

1 comment:

Mr. Morbid's House Of Fun said...

Wait a minute? You don't like your new digs? Got a case of buyer's remorse already?