You know, I had entirely forgotten that Walky was in the room with them. For a brief, wonderful moment, I though Walky used Universe Vision Fart Powers to teleport into a lawyer’s office.
Then I flipped back two pages and saw him lurking in the background. Poo. I wanted Vision based Fart Teleport powers. Or possibly Fart based Vision Teleport powers.
In retrospect, the apocalyptic visions bother me less than the massive scandal associated with Joyce killing her clone. It’s not just that the current era has challenged us to wonder whether “scandal” even means anything anymore. Even in the Bush era, this was not long after we’d killed our way into Iraq and praised ourselves for avoiding “another Vietnam,” casually glossing over what casualties there were. The idea of taking SEMME to the mat over a single casualty, even an American-seeming woman on American soil, seems… untenable.
Sure, it compromises Joyce’s charm offensive. It taints her image as “America’s alien-fighting sweetheart,” and it compromises her psychologically, as the killing was a moment of rage and weakness that made her look unfit to be a soldier, let alone a spokesperson.
But she really shouldn’t have had to rely on her network of college friends for legal help here, and there’s a lot that SEMME lawyers could say in her defense. To begin with, there’s some question whether Anti-Joyce, as an artificially created being, had legal rights. She herself claimed to be only a manifestation of Joyce’s dark desires, only half a psyche, though perhaps time would’ve proven otherwise.
And while she only seemed interested in pursuing pleasure and fucking around with Joyce’s head during her brief existence, she was a malicious agent who knew everything Joyce knew about SEMME’s operations, even the parts Joyce seemed too innocent to remember. That’s no small threat to national security.
But could she have been restrained? Well, possibly, but she was a battle-trained superwoman who could have Salled out a window the instant she decided her work was done there. Then she could’ve hooked up with the Head Alien (no, not like that… probably), and started having some real fun, because if Joyce was capable of homicide, so was Anti-Joyce.
Sure, this is spin, but spin is what PR people and lawyers do. And surely SEMME has or can employ PR people and lawyers?
Oh, wait, I forgot who was running SEMME, this is all completely plausible now, moving on.
You know, this comparison is a little melodramatic of me, but, aside from the literal thing of partial actual knowledge of the future, this feeling Walky is describing isn’t so different from an anxiety disorder in my experience. Imagining all these ways things might go, obsession with opportunity cost, the feeling of inability to do something about any of it before it’s too late. It’s kind of relatable!
glad we cleared the air on that
it took a while tough….Nachito farts are pretty nasty and hard to get rid of
You know, I had entirely forgotten that Walky was in the room with them. For a brief, wonderful moment, I though Walky used Universe Vision Fart Powers to teleport into a lawyer’s office.
Then I flipped back two pages and saw him lurking in the background. Poo. I wanted Vision based Fart Teleport powers. Or possibly Fart based Vision Teleport powers.
It’s more like letting go of an untied balloon than teleportation.
Someone open a window.
I have to say that for all the uses of the “apocalyptic visions” trope, IW is one that eventually explains them satisfactorily.
Apocalyptic visions mixed with funny moments, what more could you ask for?
Why is Mike tagged in this strip? None of those silhouttes look like him to me, unless he’s in that picture behind Bart O’Ryan.
there’s a silhouette in Panel 4 that kinda sorta looks like him
I mean, Willis tagged Dina’s remains ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
Mike is there in spirit.
There is no flatulence but what we make.
Meta.
In retrospect, the apocalyptic visions bother me less than the massive scandal associated with Joyce killing her clone. It’s not just that the current era has challenged us to wonder whether “scandal” even means anything anymore. Even in the Bush era, this was not long after we’d killed our way into Iraq and praised ourselves for avoiding “another Vietnam,” casually glossing over what casualties there were. The idea of taking SEMME to the mat over a single casualty, even an American-seeming woman on American soil, seems… untenable.
Sure, it compromises Joyce’s charm offensive. It taints her image as “America’s alien-fighting sweetheart,” and it compromises her psychologically, as the killing was a moment of rage and weakness that made her look unfit to be a soldier, let alone a spokesperson.
But she really shouldn’t have had to rely on her network of college friends for legal help here, and there’s a lot that SEMME lawyers could say in her defense. To begin with, there’s some question whether Anti-Joyce, as an artificially created being, had legal rights. She herself claimed to be only a manifestation of Joyce’s dark desires, only half a psyche, though perhaps time would’ve proven otherwise.
And while she only seemed interested in pursuing pleasure and fucking around with Joyce’s head during her brief existence, she was a malicious agent who knew everything Joyce knew about SEMME’s operations, even the parts Joyce seemed too innocent to remember. That’s no small threat to national security.
But could she have been restrained? Well, possibly, but she was a battle-trained superwoman who could have Salled out a window the instant she decided her work was done there. Then she could’ve hooked up with the Head Alien (no, not like that… probably), and started having some real fun, because if Joyce was capable of homicide, so was Anti-Joyce.
Sure, this is spin, but spin is what PR people and lawyers do. And surely SEMME has or can employ PR people and lawyers?
Oh, wait, I forgot who was running SEMME, this is all completely plausible now, moving on.
David Walkerton, ladies and gentlemen. Is he a super-being or just a slob?
You know, this comparison is a little melodramatic of me, but, aside from the literal thing of partial actual knowledge of the future, this feeling Walky is describing isn’t so different from an anxiety disorder in my experience. Imagining all these ways things might go, obsession with opportunity cost, the feeling of inability to do something about any of it before it’s too late. It’s kind of relatable!
Also a funny twist though.
Bart O’ Ryan’s face in the last panel is glorious