Dick Tracy, 11/29/23
The summer between my freshman and sophomore years of college, I stayed on campus to do an independent study and worked part time at the library in their book repair lab. While I didn’t get to handle rare books like Dick Tracy’s sinister bibliophile/stab maniac X. Libris, I did learn how to handle the various tools of the trade to get more prosaic volumes back on the shelves, including some knives and knife-like implements. Did I become enough of an “expert” in this “work” to neatly stab someone through the ribs, killing them instantly? No, no I did not, and frankly I kind of resent that.
Hi and Lois, 11/29/23
When Winnie-the-Pooh got his head stuck in the honey jar, it was of course of a matter of fairly serious import to Pooh and his friends in the Hundred Acre Wood, although it was obviously quite funny to those of us who read and enjoyed his adventures. The Flagstons seem to occupy an intermediary space, one in which they take on the role of both the observed and the observer, simultaneously laughing at the antics of others while engaging in antics of their own that discomfit them and amuse us. What would our own predicaments look like from an outside vantage point, if our lives were grist for narrative? Would episodes of anxiety and irritation elicit cruel laughter, rather than sympathy? Something to think about, the next time you get your head stuck in a jar of some sort.