Deep and Meaningless
I have no idea where this idea came from! I’m jotting down so many these days, that I just lose track.
It’s funny, I might be in the shower and BOOM! – there it is. About 15 seconds later, the entire strip is fully-formed in my head.
Risky!
To quote Governor Tarkin “I’m taking an awful risk […] this had better work.” This 3rd strip doesn’t really fulfill the action-packed promise of the publicity ‘poster’ or the «first strip that you saw. Will I lose whatever audience I have before I even start! Please bear in mind that there will be noisy and quiet strips – hopefully in equal number. But never anything heavy.
The ‘I’m OK – You’re OK’ self-help book
I have no idea whether this is quackery or not. I just found the cover amusing
Quackery?
Without scaring you off still more, there is a lot to be said for ‘living in the Now’ – or ‘Mindfulness’ – I might have benefited from that in some of my employments if only the Now when I was there wasn’t so horrible! But Jack here seems to be getting the wrong end of the stick. When that kid grows up I think he could write a self-help book based around a single whacky theory, pad it out to 200 hundred pages and make a fortune!
There’s certainly something appealing about the easy simplicity of life when all you have to worry about is school, comics and playing soldiers!
BONUS NO PRIZE!
That’s right, tell me something about that cliff-face and you’ll win a no-prize. Notice anything interesting or familiar about it? Come on you 1970s Geeks!
** Stay Groovy, all you 1970s kids! **
– John White
"So that's how this place got its name?" Jim asked.
Jack replied simply, with a "Yup!"
"Cor, gruesome." Breathed Jim, imagining scenes of mad women throwing themselves off cliffs, of mangled bodies, and of splatted brains. What could be better?
Presently, the two boys ambled off, back down the hill and across the green fields; skillfully dodging cow-pats and gleefully kicking toadstools into tiny bits. Penny, Jack's black and white Cocker Spaniel led the way as always. She knew their habits and ramblings better than they did. Presently, for no particular reason Jack said, "My mum's got this book about Eternal Happiness - or something."
"Hmm." mused Jim, "Does it say: Play Soldiers and Read Comics?"
"Nope," replied Jack, "We're supposed to 'live in the present'."
Back at Jack's house, the conversation continued. Jim lay on Jack's bed - as if on the psychiatrist's couch - and Jack sat alongside on a chair; Kermit the Frog notebook on his lap, pen poised, a thoughtful look upon his young face. All he needed - he thought - were reading glasses on the end of his nose.
"The 'present' - being now?" Asked Jim?
"Exactly," replied Jack, "and 'now' is the Seventies."
Jim's eyebrows crunched together in deep thought, and then he offered his extrapolated interpretation, "So... live each moment as if it's the Seventies?"
Jack was pleased by his patient's insight, "Yes. Staaaay in the seventies. Never look backwards or forwards. Wallow in it. Wallow....
Forever."
"Hmmm..." mused Jim, "'That sounds a bit - unhealthy to me, Jack."
Jack stood up stiffly, irritated. "Look - the guy's an expert. Interviewed in - in - in Woman's Own Magazine and... EVERYTHING!"
Jim wasn't impressed. Then, shoulders sagging in resignation, Jack gave in. "Okay, okay, Jim. Basically, here it is: Never stop playing soldiers or reading comics. Same thing."
"Sold!" chirped a very happy Jim!
Discussion ¬