Exit Delay

Episode One Hundred Sixty Six: Exit Delay.
In which we drop the reel.

1 comment:

  1. "Our dried voices..." SM recites T.S. Eliot's 'The Hollow Men' (1925). The meaning is lost on me, but, on the day that I threw this strip together, the seemingly existential imagery spoke to me: Lots of unseeing eyes in that world, and an bleak exploration of an in-between space: people neither one nor the other. The recipient's stunted arm curiously making a comeback two weeks later.

    The back-lit keyboard an accidental photo taken at my desk. No meaning behind it, but I was fairly happy with the result.

    Eno utters the Oblique Strategy of the day ... an affirmation that the medium is the message, or perhaps an exhortation that Guy's understanding of what matter is just off.

    The third frame was an interpretation of an illustration I saw on Twitter in relation to a conference (I think) for the Irish novelist Flan O'Brien (his English-language nom de plume), author of one of my favorite novels, The Third Policeman (completed 1940, published posthumously 1967). The illustration, a penny farthing with three bowler-hatted men squirreled inside the larger wheel, they themselves spokes, left hand on central hub and right hand on (each of the three) pedals. The image is attibuted to Jan de Fou (? I wasn't able to find much on the artist), and has the look of a Victorian plate illustration. My interpretation felt too close to the original, and so I cut it up in Gimp and presented as a collage. I guess I'm happy, but the strip as a whole feels rudderless and - like that particular panel - meaninglessly Dada.

    But, you know, maybe Eno is saying that's the point.



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