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Going comic shopping on a Tuesday after a holiday weekend sucks.
That's why we came home with only one comic this week, vowing to
return on Thursday in hopes that the new issues of all our favorite books
would be out.
Unfortunately, Thursday would be too late to find, read, and review a
suitable comic, so I am stuck reviewing Tony Millionaire's Sock Monkey,
published by Dark Horse. This is a terrible world, I tell you, when a
reviewer such as myself has such a limited stock of things to review.
I'm really thinking that reviewing this comic is a waste of my time. I could
be role playing, or reading Sluggy Freelance, but instead, I'm trying to
think of something to say about this comic, and nothing is coming to
mind. Hence the delaying tactics I'm using, trying to make my review look
longer and worthwhile. You're probably now as enthused about reading
this as I am about writing it. Well, if I have to suffer, so do you!
So, anyway, this issue I read is #1 of Volume 3. Absolutely no effort is
made to clue in new readers (lured in by the #1, or reading it because
someone on-line recommended it to their husband) as to what is going
on or what has happened before. Apparently, they already have enough
of a fan base that they feel no need to get new readers. Oh no, they're
too good for that. Or maybe it even makes no sense if you HAVE read
the previous two volumes.
The story centers around a sock monkey and a stuffed crow. How
exciting. They somehow end up in the trophy room of some hunter and
decide to go hunting. Being small, they go salamander hunting. It only
gets weirder from there. I think it's supposed to be funny, but I didn't
laugh once. I don't think I even smiled or thought, "Well, I guess that
could be funny." Actually, I was bored silly. Boredboredbored. That's
why this review sucks.
There was nothing bad enough to make fun of. The art is fine. The dialog
and punctuation are fine. The story is stupid, but not in a cheesy
melodramatic way, which would be sooo fun to pick apart. It's just
senseless, useless, pointless, and interest-less. Maybe I stepped in at a
bad time, because if it was always this bad, I'm sure it wouldn't have
enough readers to stay in business, unless Mr Millionaire really is that
rich and is paying to have this boring waste of paper printed to help fuel
his feelings of self-importance.
Wow, I'm sure mean when I'm bored.
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