Pride in what and who you are is a strong foundation, but don't be defined by your oppression; use your anger, don't let it use you.
Dave McKeanShe looked out at the other trees, and she realised that her life was one of thousands, any one of which could have been her, she had grown wherever her life had taken her, she had drifted wherever the wind had blown her.
Dave McKeanIt's not even been a two-and-two-make five sort of day, it's more like a two-and-two-make...fish
Dave McKeanThe depressing majority of comics seem to be about violence of one sort or another, [...] And I just don’t enjoy violence. I can see that narratively it is often a powerful spike in a story, but I certainly don’t want to dwell on it. I don’t want it in my real life, I don’t find violence entertaining in and of itself, or exciting, or funny.
But sex is happily part of most people’s lives, and crosses the mind most days, I would say, even if it’s just watching your partner get out of bed in the morning. [...] Most pornography is pretty awful. I mean, it does the job at the most utilitarian level, but it rarely excites other areas of the mind, or the eye. It’s repetitive, bland and often a bit silly. I was interested in trying to do something that has an aesthetic beauty to it if possible, and something that tickles the intellect as well as the more basic areas of the mind. Maybe that’s not possible, and as soon as you start to think too much, it stops working as pornography. I don’t think so, but I guess it’s in the eye and mind of the viewer.
Stichwörter: sensual
Oh, sheep. I've lost all my sobbing colours.
Dave McKeanStichwörter: humour comics surrealism
LEO: We're the last to leave.
BARKEEP: Ahuhrumhuh...koff, koff, humn...
LEO: Do you think he wants us to leave?
KAREN: No, no, probably just a bit of sarcasm gone down the wrong way.
I suppose cats have sayings like... "A dead mouse...has no entertainment value." How's that? Doesn't exactly trip off the tongue, does it? Okay, how about..."Red sky at night, time for a nap...red sky in the morning... time for a nap.
Dave McKeanIt a heasy t'ing to live for de lightnin' crack hillumination of possession.
It heasy to hide in de dark o' faith, pretendin' dat anyt'in' dat skitter an' scuttle in de night is jus' bad himagination.
It a heasy t'in' jus' to stay where you at. Grow roots. Vegetate. Be a potato.
And then a strange thing happened. Out of the diseased and deteriorated pool os tired thoughts came life. A simple and poisoned life, but a life nonetheless. Death cultivated tis bacteria with love and attention. It thived in its stifling, hopeless world, sapping Death os all its energy, but Death didn't notice, for all its attention went on the fracturing, multiplying, fragmentary creations inside it.
And when the virus had eaten every fleck of Death, it lived on in Death's dry sarcophagus.
Life implied by Death.
I mean, it's not even been a two-and-two-make five sort of a day, it's more like a two-and-to-make... fish... or something... You know? Not even close to making sense.
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