pretty spider for a white guy

Super Lumina failed state inspection last Friday because of a safety issue (for a busted indicator and quite possibly the retractable titanium steel ramming spike I mounted on the bumper). Normally this would be the type of thing I'd have fixed on the spot, but because I waited until the last minute, the mechanic didn't have the parts or time to take care of it. I had to settle for a rejection sticker and an appointment to bring it in for repairs and a retest this morning.

I originally picked this particular garage (back in 2001) because it located a couple blocks from where I was living at the time, which meant I could drop my car off, walk home, and goof off around the house until it was time to pick up and pay. They also happened to be honest, affordable, and extremely good at their work -- an extremely rare combination -- and I continued to go there even after I moved to the Woburn Highlands on the far southern edge of the city.

The previous drill of "drop off and walk home" was slightly adjusted to "walk to my grandma's house (my former residence), and beg a ride home and back." This time around, though, no ride was offered, and I was too self-conscious about my present Worst Grandson Ever^TM status (passively earned, just so no one gets the wrong idea about my particular flavor of crapulence) to ask for one. So I ended up spending most of the day in my grandma's living room and attic, digging out and reading comics from the dozen or so longboxes I've yet to bring up the House on the Hillside and drinking Dixie cup after Dixie cup of watery fruit punch.

Most of the stuff was from the 1990's and early 2000's, and I was amazed at how many comics I bought and continued buy even after any sane rationale for reading a title slipped away -- Peter David's coyly smug Captain Marvel relaunch, Erik Larsen's Defenders relaunch, Mark Millar's Authority run, Devin Grayson's Titans. Chalk it up to collector's inertia, a noxious habit I'm glad to have since kicked to the curb.

There were also some relatively entertaining things I purchased and subsequently forgot about due to the high volume of incoming crap, and these were how I passed the long hours of my captivity in the Land of Bleach and Doilies -- Garth Ennis's War Story comics and his Enemy Ace: War in Heaven miniseries, Planetary/Batman: Night on Earth, Avengers/JLA (a.k.a. JLA/Avengers) , and John Byrne's run(s) on Sensational She-Hulk.

It was the latter that provided the most enjoyment, not for the playful (if a bit heavy on the meta gags) romp through the Marvel Universe's z-list which made me miss the old, good John Byrne, but for this editorial page illustration from issue #41 (July 1992):


There is a transcendental cosmic truth to be found within its majesty, providing that one has the strength of will to embrace it without descending into existential madness.

Flesh For Lulu - Restless (from Flesh For Lulu, 1984) - "Gothic rock" is a rather subjective term.
Polysics - Making Sense (from Neu, 2003) - I think we're well past any chance of that happening. Better to just ride the Japanese noise rock whirwind and see where it leads us.