Yeah, the essence of all the great tragedies is one’s hubris catching up to one in ironic ways. The Ancient Greeks codified it, soap operas have expanded it, and now Skin Horse is knee deep in it. (That last bit came out wrong.)
Are the murderbots and the cobras still hanging out in the Pine Barrens? As one of the largest chunks of wilderness in the east, it might be a good location to put down new roots, so to speak, if it’s not too cold.
Considering that freak wildfires have broken out in both of the locations of the Cypress swamps, and considering how quickly such a fire would devastate a forrest of pine trees (and their nonhuman inhabitants), I am concerned that the Jersey pine barrens might not be a good place for ANYONE at the moment.
It appears that A-Sig is methodically targeting any nonhumans who might pose a threat to whatever their ultimate plan is. I suspect that includes everyone at the safehouse and the Jersey Devils.
The Pinelands National Reserve covers 1.1 million acres: that’s not going up in smoke too quickly, especially considering New Jersey is a lot wetter than the US west. But now that I think of it, yeah, the safehouse is certainly compromised.
On the way from the Colma fray,
Where the dead will live it up until they drop.
Sent on this ship in this comic strip,
Until we reach New Jersey, we cannot stop.
But it’s said today, we’re on our way,
Other side of Chesapeake Bay.
Our hearts will wail, our minds are starting to fail,
We have to leave the Mother Swamp in Carbondale.
Down in the sewers we can see
An old friend looking at eternity.
Go ahead, Sweetheart has said,
And it’s all of us, not just Unity.
But it’s said today, we’re on our way,
Other side of Chesapeake Bay.
Our hearts will wail, our minds are starting to fail,
We have to leave the Mother Swamp in Carbondale.
Must be laughter everywhere
As we’re sent all about, moving to and fro.
We demonstrate that we’re bifurcate
Going from Alaska to Jersey Shore.
But it’s said today, we’re on our way,
Other side of Chesapeake Bay.
Our hearts will wail, our minds are starting to fail,
We have to leave the Mother Swamp in Carbondale.
—from “Jamaica Farewell,” Irving Burgie (Lord Burgess), probably best known by Harry Belafonte, though we used to sing it in music class, which is where I first heard it.
“With the coming of the summer of 2018, many eyes in sweltering Florida turn hopelessly or desperately towards the freedom of the Internet. The Internet became the great song-parodying point. But not everybody could get to the Internet on Monday, and so a tortuous, roundabout, travel trail sprang up—grocery store to shop, across the parking lots to the restaurants, then by bike or auto or foot across to the wet of one’s house, to lawnmowing in the front and back yard. Here, the fortunate ones, through money or influence or luck, might obtain lawn services and scurry to their devices, and from their devices to the Internet. But the others cut in their lawns…and cut…and cut…and cut.”
You should know by now that saying stuff like that is just setting yourself up for a joke..
Yeah, the essence of all the great tragedies is one’s hubris catching up to one in ironic ways. The Ancient Greeks codified it, soap operas have expanded it, and now Skin Horse is knee deep in it. (That last bit came out wrong.)
Are the murderbots and the cobras still hanging out in the Pine Barrens? As one of the largest chunks of wilderness in the east, it might be a good location to put down new roots, so to speak, if it’s not too cold.
Oh, I think that the way global warming is going, temperature shouldn’t be a problem.
Considering that freak wildfires have broken out in both of the locations of the Cypress swamps, and considering how quickly such a fire would devastate a forrest of pine trees (and their nonhuman inhabitants), I am concerned that the Jersey pine barrens might not be a good place for ANYONE at the moment.
It appears that A-Sig is methodically targeting any nonhumans who might pose a threat to whatever their ultimate plan is. I suspect that includes everyone at the safehouse and the Jersey Devils.
The Pinelands National Reserve covers 1.1 million acres: that’s not going up in smoke too quickly, especially considering New Jersey is a lot wetter than the US west. But now that I think of it, yeah, the safehouse is certainly compromised.
If they can control the weather, they can make Jersey as dry – and as hot – as they want to.
The Lodgepole Complex fire in Montana last year was caused by a lightning strike, and consumed over 270,000 acres in ten days.
If A-Sig is intentionally starting fires with multiple lightning strikes, they could easily burn up that entire 1.1 million acres in half that time.
Alfie was (or claimed to be) first officer on the HMCS Habakkuk. I think he was last seen wearing the Cone of Shame.
Killbot #2 was also a member of Bubbles’ crew. I don’t recall off the top of my head if any of the others were aboard.
Uh-oh! The safe house!
Unsurprising. There will be a tornado at the Little House next.
Am I the only one who’s sick of Jersey jokes? Because I’m sick of Jersey jokes.
Don’t hate the jokes… Embrace the jokes. Feed off the jokes. Just as judo uses the opponent’s momentum against them.
I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s no jokes about Jersey here. Just straight, sober facts.
Whoever said that being factual precludes something from being a joke?
True. Just look at the current president.
Alas, New Jersey has the misfortune of having New York City next door, and when New York decides you are a joke, you are a joke.
On the way from the Colma fray,
Where the dead will live it up until they drop.
Sent on this ship in this comic strip,
Until we reach New Jersey, we cannot stop.
But it’s said today, we’re on our way,
Other side of Chesapeake Bay.
Our hearts will wail, our minds are starting to fail,
We have to leave the Mother Swamp in Carbondale.
Down in the sewers we can see
An old friend looking at eternity.
Go ahead, Sweetheart has said,
And it’s all of us, not just Unity.
But it’s said today, we’re on our way,
Other side of Chesapeake Bay.
Our hearts will wail, our minds are starting to fail,
We have to leave the Mother Swamp in Carbondale.
Must be laughter everywhere
As we’re sent all about, moving to and fro.
We demonstrate that we’re bifurcate
Going from Alaska to Jersey Shore.
But it’s said today, we’re on our way,
Other side of Chesapeake Bay.
Our hearts will wail, our minds are starting to fail,
We have to leave the Mother Swamp in Carbondale.
—from “Jamaica Farewell,” Irving Burgie (Lord Burgess), probably best known by Harry Belafonte, though we used to sing it in music class, which is where I first heard it.
And also:
“With the coming of the summer of 2018, many eyes in sweltering Florida turn hopelessly or desperately towards the freedom of the Internet. The Internet became the great song-parodying point. But not everybody could get to the Internet on Monday, and so a tortuous, roundabout, travel trail sprang up—grocery store to shop, across the parking lots to the restaurants, then by bike or auto or foot across to the wet of one’s house, to lawnmowing in the front and back yard. Here, the fortunate ones, through money or influence or luck, might obtain lawn services and scurry to their devices, and from their devices to the Internet. But the others cut in their lawns…and cut…and cut…and cut.”
Tiny art error: It seems that the colourist mistook Unity’s text balloon in the last panel as one of the Cypress’s.
Ms. Diaz may have been illustrating the fact that, among her many other talents, UNITY is a superb mimic.
… or … biomass is biomass – even Unity’s
Just making up for the other day when she left one of the Cypress’ word balloons white.
Eh, tomayto, tomahto.