Let us ignore, for a moment, the fact that I am extremely intoxicated.
Let us instead focus on the fact that Questionable Content is an extremely enjoyable webcomic. One part witty banter, one part indie snobbery, and one part DRAMA DRAMA DRAMA!!! make for one heck of a comic. Its critics cite (and mock) the characters’ frequent “let’s talk about our feelings” discussions, while its fans either appreciate or overlook the I feel statements that pepper each storyline.
There’s everything going for this comic, and that’s why, I assume, it’s so insanely popular. The jokes are fucking hysterical when it’s on, the characters develop over time, and the art has gone from horrid to pretty darn good. There are robots, which is never a bad thing, and Jeph Jaques seems like a painfully nice guy — every news post ends with “see you tomorrow” or “see you Monday”, and that always reminds me of Mr. Rogers’ end-of-the-show song. Hooray for the friendly webcomics neighborhood!
With backstory that Monsiur Websnark has creamed himself over and jokes that crack Joe Shmoe up every day, it’s easy to see why Questionable Content is one of the most popular webcomics out there. Hooray for Faye!
↓ I have discovered a new pet peeve: idiots who use the terms “fair trade” and “free trade” as synonyms. Astounding.
↑ And a new love: Aldo Leopold, though not the zombie (YAY inside joke that no one will get!). I swiped A Sand County Almanac from Mark a couple days ago. It’s full of lovely little passages about the mundane beauty of life.
In thus watching the daily routine of a spring goose convention, one notices the prevalence of singles–lone geese that do much flying about and much talking. One is apt to impute a disconsolate tone to their honkings, and to jump to the conclusion that they are broken-hearted widowers, or mothers hunting lost children. The seasoned ornithologist knows, however, that such subjective interpretation of bird behavior is risky. I long tried to keep an open mind on the question.
After my students and I had counted for half a dozen years the number of geese comprising a flock, some unexpected light was cast on the meaning of lone geese. It was found by mathematical analysis that flocks of six or multiples of six were far more frequent than chance alone would dictate. In other words, goose flocks are families, or aggregations of families, and lone geese in spring are probably just what our fond imaginings had first suggested. They are bereaved survivors of the winter’s shooting, searching in vain for their kin. Now I am free to grieve with and for the lone honkers.
It is not often that cold-potato mathematics thus confirms the sentimental promptings of the bird-lover.