Via the e-mail:

Chad: Also, we gotta get together and plot out a book...multi-billion dollar budget movie type....:)
Me: There should be babes. And... space aliens. With guns. Guns with babes painted on them. And also loooooooooooooooove.
Chad: we at all worried about being dubbed the sexists of comics?
Me: Yeah but there's looooooooooooooooooove. The feminists can't get us if there's loooooooooooooooooooove.
Chad: are you stoned?
Me: No sir. I **was** stoned.
Chad: bastard

I've had this idea in my mind for the last month or so that I'm going to go to the big comic convention doodad in Toronto next month, and I'm gonna throw an egg at Bendis' head. I'm not thinking about this because I dislike Bendis. Far from it. In fact I like Bendis more than most folk, and I like the fact that he's a sadistic little fascist in the Powers letter column. Actually it's the attitude in the lettercol that specifically makes me want to throw an egg at his head. Again, not because I disapprove of the meanness, but because the meanness suggests to me that this is a guy who is going to respond to having an egg thrown at his head. That he is going to understand why for anyone else, that's a sign of gigantic disrespect, but with Bendis, it is the most specific and appropriate totem to your appreciation of the man. Because Bendis? He knows yolk. He throws the eggs, and he needs eggs thrown, so he can see the yolk, because the yolk is the natural response to the jerkiness of modern human interaction. He needs me to throw an egg at him for the three hours it took for me to get from my house to Sunnybrook to work this morning. An egg for how my boss this morning isn't my boss this afternoon. An egg for how I got put in a position where I had to do something unpleasant today not once, but twice, by people being jerks. For these and more I want to throw an egg at Bendis' head. And then I want to run. Because as much as I want to throw an egg at Bendis' head, I do not want to see Bendis pissed off.