I’m cataloguing the largest comic book collection on Earth.
flash crimson 1990s serial killer music video edgelordy visuals as I sneak into a rich man’s palatial Citizen Kane-ass estate, blade in my hand, song in my heart
I guess it’s my collection now.
I’m soaked in mayhem, howling ecstatically as I run up and down unruly stacks’n’piles of long boxes that constitute a winding, confounding subterranean labyrinth born of some gnawing collector’s pathology
Most of the collection consists of copies of The New Dream #50, a heavily hyped double-sized collector’s edition featuring a holografix foil cover which was touted as a great jumping-on point for new readers.
I’m vibrating with battlehype, crown to taint, I’ve just slain thousands of goblins and assorted hommunculi to secure the site
They must’ve printed, like, a billion of ‘em.
My aura of victory imprints itself upon huge swathes of the collection, displacing corny old spandex soap operas with my glory
Totally worthless.
Later, I try to sell these newly emblazoned comics online, but no one buys ‘em
You find one in every dollar and quarter bin across the land.
People look at the pics and they think I’m trying to sell fire-damaged backstock
People use ‘em to cover their carpets when they do indoor remodelling.
Now, when I sleep I get sensations of being dragged down into the earth by some terrible weight
You can find pictures online of people wrapping themselves in its pages so they look like postmodern Pop Art mummies.
I awake, still inside the Old Dream, but now I know it’s over, it’s been over, it’s never not been over
Oh, the memes with this one.
I can’t stand the twist on this one, that I’m also the guy who constructed this Citizen Kane-ass mausoleum with pretentions of houseness
Oh, the bonfires where people dress up as criminal clowns, and say, “It’s not about the dreams.”
It’s always about the dreams
So, yes, The New Dream #50 was overhyped and over-printed.
Flooded the market with dreams
But The New Dream #49, now that one was underhyped and underprinted, because it was a fill-in issue that had little to do with the ongoing storyline.
Reality is the actual collector’s item, and that one’s even more worthless
The regular writer/artist team quit after The New Dream #48 to start their own independent comic book company.
It’s like when you go through a dollar or a quarter bin and you end up pulling a full two year run of some high quality independent title
So they brought in some ringers to squeeze out #49, and then they delayed #50 so they could build hype for the new creative team and the new creative direction for about a year.
And it’s worth less than a Florida Governor during a hurricane
It was all for nothing.
I mean, sure, you could read it
The New Dream staggered on through #55 before getting all-over shitcanned.
But what if everybody found out you actually read the comic books you buy?
But The New Dream #49, now that one’s a real Grail, a big ol’ White Whale.
Would you ever live down the shame of such an exposure?
You never come across that one.
Would you ever be able to build a Citizen Kane-ass mausoleum big enough to hide your pathetic self from the world?
It’s an old dream.
