05/13/2019

In the background we find Knuckles and Claymore reentering the tale. To get caught up with them and why they’re clearing rubble from in front of the burning Pantages Theater, revisit pages 101 through 110.

Also, making that nubby tire on Spider’s monocycle felt like pushing my brain through a garlic press.

And, finally, I found this nugget of utter incredibleness last night languishing in a very old book. I’ll air it out for you:

The Kraken – Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892)

Below the thunders of the upper deep,
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient dreamless uninvaded sleep
The Kraken sleepeth. Faintest sunlights flee
About his shadowy sides, above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height,
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumber’d and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green.
There hath he lain for ages and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep.
Then once by man and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.