When I was a boy, I discovered Cerberus The Aardvark at a comic book shop in Boston. I picked up issue six (“The Secret”) and laughed at the adventures of the barbarian aardvark. The whole thing was ridiculous. But I did not expect the heartbreaking ending.
I was amazed I was reading the comic book at all. At the time, there was Marvel and DC, and that was it. But I was becoming aware that there was a whole culture of underground comic books. It was exciting to see a medium I thought I knew tell different and unexpected stories.
For decades I wanted to read the first few issues of Cerberus. This was before the Internet and eBay. Issue one was beyond my means. Eventually, Cerebus was collected in volume editions which I never got around to purchasing. But then came the pandemic, and I decided
I’m a middle-aged man; for crying out loud, I can spend $40 on a comic book! And I picked up volume one, which contains the first 25 issues of Cerebus.
And there it sat on my bookshelf, unwrapped and unread, for over a year.
I love Cerebus, but I was twelve when I first started reading the comic book. I was afraid to go back. I didn’t want my memories tarnished. What if it was terrible? But tonight, I decided to crack the book finally, after all these years, read the first issue.
It wasn’t bad.
I didn’t laugh. I don’t think I even smiled. But writer/artist David Sims told a great yarn. His style, rough as it was, was evident. Cerebus himself hadn’t settled into his final form. His snout is far too long, his face and body ill-defined. He’s wearing a Barry Windsor Conan helmet. But it’s still recognizably Cerebus.
I’m excited to see how he evolves into the aardvark I know and love.
Tomorrow I’ll read issue two.
Every morning I listen to two albums. Today I listened to Kjenslevarulv by Dei Kjenslevare and Jet-Powered, Monkey Navigated by Idiom Creek (thanks @Angst_Xiety). 🎵
Every morning I listen to two albums. Today I listened to Avanti by Alessandro Corrini (thanks Steve Power and Hessel Veldman) and In a Few Places Along the River by Abul Mogard. 🎵
My go bag containing my kit sits unused in the corner of my room (by “go bag,” I mean go-to-work bag).
My handy Victorinox Classic SD is the only pocket knife that has day-to-day utility. It’s perfect for opening mail and maybe filing the odd nail. I recently picked up a WESN microblade, which also functions as a fidget you, now goes everywhere I go.
Other than the WESN and SD, my phone and watch are the only things I constantly carry.
Earlier today, I ripped Toxic Narcotic’s “The Festering” to MP3 and have had it on repeat for the last hour. Toxic Narcotic avoided genres, jokingly referring to themselves as crustcore, but clearly, this song is an homage to Black Sabbath.
Every morning I listen to two albums. Today I listened to I M A M C R U 1 2 by KRS-One and Dubs & Versions by The Yabby You Sound. 🎵
Every morning I listen to two albums. Today I listened to Vocal Studies + Uprock Narratives by Prefuse 73 (thanks, @Angst_Xiety) and Twenty-One Sabar Rhythms by The Doudou Ndiaye Rose Family. 🎵
Every morning I listen to two albums. Today I listened to Silberland, Vol. 1: The Psychedelic Side of Kosmische Musik (1972-1986) and Spectral Organ/Feedback Gong by Antti Tolvi. 🎵
I didn’t know that when I began reading J. J. Anselmi’s Doomed to Fail that I’d end up purchasing Sleep’s Dopesmoker album on eBay, but here I am, anticipating the arrival of the album later this week. I can’t believe I, ahem, slept on this album.
This is my first year living in San Diego that I didn’t go downtown to take photos of everyone in their costumes for Comicon. I admit that being around groups of people that large while still a pandemic had something to do with my reluctance. Maybe next year.
