There are not many persons who know what wonders are opened to them in the stories and visions of their youth; for when as children we listen and dream, we think but half-formed thoughts, and when as men we try to remember, we are dulled and prosaic with the poison of life.
But some of us awake in the night with strange phantasms of enchanted hills and gardens, of fountains that sing in the sun, of golden cliffs overhanging murmuring seas, of plains that stretch down to sleeping cities of bronze and stone, and of shadowy companies of heroes that ride caparisoned white horses along the edges of thick forests; and then we know that we have looked back through the ivory gates into that world of wonder which was ours before we were wise and unhappy.
One night I had a dream— I dreamed I was walking along the beach with a Batman and across the sky flashed scenes from my life. For each scene I noticed two sets of footprints, one belonged to me and the other to a Batman. When the last scene of my life flashed before me, I looked back at the footprints in the sand. I noticed that many times along the path of my life, there was only one set of footprints. I also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in my life. This really bothered me and I questioned a Batman about it. "Batman, you said that once I decided to follow you, you would walk with me all the way, but I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life there is only one set of footprints. "I don’t understand why in times when I needed you most, you should leave me.” A Batman replied, “My precious, precious child, I love you and I would never, never leave you during your times of trial and suffering. "When you saw only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.”
“Batman’s mask is lingerie. It conceals, and reveals, a face made for objectification. The leather fetishism of it, the animalism, even the aerodynamics: they turn his whole torso into a Cadillac. It is everything but human, but for the mouth, which is presented. That brilliant scene in Spider-Man where the ugly girl rolls up Spider-Man’s mask in the rain, using his mouth as he hangs there, bound up in his own sticky threads, that’s Batman all the time. He’s faceless, but orificed. His five o’clock shadow, that noir symbol of virility, is brazenly on display. While the rest of his face is armored, he is unable to defend his mouth. He is as anonymous, and accessible, as a masquerade orgiast.”—GIBBERINGS - Batmans
STEP 1: PERUSE THE MENUS. Go to Eat24Hours.com and type in San Pablo Ave in the address field, and 94608 in the Zip field. No, this isn’t my address, you creepazoids. Hit Search Now and you’ll be presented with a list of restaurants.
STEP 2: CHOOSE THE FORM OF MY DESTROYER Find a menu you like and put together a meal. Make a screenshot and send it to me at eliza.gauger at gmail, along with the total price via PayPal.
STEP 3: SELF-CONGRATULATIONS The food will be ordered according to the screenshot, using a PayPal debit card, and the artists will devour it gamely.
GOOD JOB! You just fed an artist, which is something they’re incapable of doing themselves.
The owner of Sweatshop.tv, who previously offered me a very good price on the domain, has written again to tell me he is going to set up a redirect from his domain to the SWEATSHOP site. What a mensch!
“I need a day job, I think all artists do. Without something horrible happening to me every day, I don’t have a foil to work against when I come home to make comics. Nothing comes out. No pages, no jokes or artwork. When I don’t have a job, there are only two or three subjects I can talk about with any authority: masturbation and killing myself.”—Tristan A. Farnon - The Comics Journal: Interviews