| Illumina Drathiran'ar |
08-12-2004 12:49 AM |
Regardless of what the thread in CE said, tonight I am getting down on my knees and praying that syndicated comics go away forever. And if by some miracle they do, through the sheer force of my will, don't blame me. Blame the strip that made it possible.
I rarely read the comics during the summer. I don't have time. But there they were, lying on the table when I walked in the house. I picked them up and my eyes wandered down to "Over the Hedge." I don't even read that. It was as my eyes were drawn to the page, by some seventh sense. And lo and behold, I read:
"I could... but have you ever considered the fact that you can't flip yourself over as hindernce to your specie's long-term survival?"
My breath caught in my throat. I stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, staring. Don't people edit these things? Doesn't anybody care enough to fix faulty syntax AND correct a word that DOES NOT exist? I went into shock. I began hyperventilating, and soon I blacked out. My sister informed me later, after I came to, that I spent a good portion of the night rocking on my heels in the driveway, whimpering "Why?" softly in the starlight. And I prayed. I prayed to every god ever worshipped, and I even made up a few to boot.
So again... if the comics vanish, or if Michael Fry and T. Lewis are found someday with copies of A Writer's Reference by Diana Hacker lodged in their windpipes, you'll know they brought it on themselves.
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