Klarion #2

Does anybody else constantly hear far-off circus music when sitting alone in a completely quiet room?

Notice how this cover gives a handy key to learning Old Portugese [sic] by superimposing it's letters on top of the Latin letters? That scares me into believing that Ann Nocenti is going to be leaving secret messages in Old Portugese [sic] throughout her Klarion books. In other comics like Constantine, the messages in the magic language are usually nonsensical bullshit. But since Ann Nocenti's normal dialogue is nonsensical bullshit, what will happen to the magic chants?! Do I even dare to translate them? How long can I look, unblinking, into the abyss before I lose all semblance of my self? Maybe I'll get the neighbor kid to read them first. A young, healthy mind of a stupid kid probably has enough elasticity to survive pure, unfiltered Ann Nocenti dialogue. And if not, the worst that will happen is I won't have to hear him constantly jumping up and down on that Goddamned pogo stick! No wait. The worst thing that can happen is that he'll lose his mind and scream constantly, day and night! That shouldn't last long though before the parents send him away, right? I know parents have an innate ability to completely ignore their kids when they're being loud, obnoxious monsters, but they can't tune out their kid's continuous scream of pain and existential horror, right?

Since my mind might not survive reading this comic book intact, I want to confess something here that might help other people suffering like I have. In these modern times, it's tough to admit this because so many people adamantly feel opposite the way I do, and it's possible I'll be shunned and banished from modern cities by revealing this fact about myself. But here it goes. I like circus peanuts. Actually, I like the Easter version of the circus peanuts which are a pastel pink, purple, and yellow color and shaped like rabbits. Oh, I'll eat the orange peanut ones as well but I like the calming color and cute figures of the Easter versions better. I actually can't remember the last time I've eaten a circus peanut though because I'm too ashamed to be seen enjoying them. I might as well go into a beauty salon and ask for a mullet. Sometimes I feel hopeful that the circus peanut eaters of the world will be cut some slack when I see so many anti-shaming posts on Tumblr about nearly everything. And yet...and yet, it still seems to be acceptable to savage anybody that eats circus peanuts or wears a mullet. Remember, we will never all truly be equal until we regard other people's likes and dislikes with respect. So please stop treating me like a pariah because I enjoy circus peanuts, you retarded faggots.

Oh wait! That's why people treat me like a pariah! Because I still call people retarded faggots! Never mind. Y'all were correct to shun me. Move along.

For those without tender sensibilities (or those with super tender sensibilities who can't wait to become outraged by more shit I write) who are still reading, I'm going to explain the magic trick of the previous two paragraphs! See, I set up this long-winded defense of myself as a victim, trying to garner sympathy as I present my downtrodden position, so that right at the end, by using a couple of offensive slurs, I shock the readers into wondering how they could ever have been coming around to my side on the circus peanut issue, and thus probably make them hate circus peanuts (and the eaters of) even more. Now, everybody understands that part of the trick. They get that the lady in the box wasn't actually in both halves of the box after being sawed in half and separated. But most viewers won't catch the long con being played here. You see, now that I've used the phrase "retarded faggots" in a light-hearted, facetious way to mock myself and make myself look like a completely bigoted asshole for my own amusement (I'd say the reader's amusement but I'm sure no readers were amused by that), I can now use the phrase again in the future as a jokey callback to this moment! So I've given myself permission to use an offensive phrase as a running joke within my commentaries! Because I've always wanted to call everything a retarded faggot willy-nilly! I also, apparently, only want to be read by male high school athletes!

I sincerely apologize for offending anybody for using the R-slur and the F-word. No, the other F-word. You know, the one I just used! The horrible one that's also a British cigarette! Come on, you know! The one that isn't fuck! I just typed it like one paragraph ago! Anyway, I'd fix it if I could but what can I do? Blogger auto saves as I type! I can't delete it now! My hands are tied!

Hopefully everybody reading this is now in a proper mood to match mine while we read Klarion together! Is your stomach kind of messed up and you're not sure if what you've just read, by someone you thought you respected, should be seen as witty or anger-inducing or cruel or insightful? Well, embrace that confusion and join me on a journey into the grandest confusion of them all...a journey into Ann Nocenti's World!

I don't know Klarion. Tell me, why are you remembering this now?

Are Daddy Longlegs a spacefaring, dimension-hopping order of spider? How did Klarion and his friend encounter one back on Witchworld? Perhaps when Klarion says "Daddy Longlegs," it's just the nearest approximation in English of the creature he and his friend tortured. Although Klarion showed he knew a lot about Earth's history and culture in the last issue. Maybe Witchworld is just a dimension created by the witches of Salem as they sought to escape persecution. That makes sense since Klarion's original look was that of a Puritan.

This issue is called "Love Takes a Train" because I don't know why. Is that a movie reference? A song lyric? Does love often take trains? Is that a saying about love leaving a lover?

Whatever the case, I think we can see that Klarion has fallen into a love triangle quicker than any Young Adult Novel's protagonist in the history of young adult novels. Because what is a story about young people without any feels caused by relationship troubles?

So, Klarion, about that spider story? Are you going to finish it?

Rasp has tapped into some kind of reality crawling web spider thing that finds out data about the people all around him. So just by looking at somebody, he can see the websites they love to visit. If GoogleGlass ever cracks that technology, most of y'all are going to be fucked. Not me though! People will look at me and see that I visit sites about computer gaming history and old text adventures and Oglaf and sites about old school Dungeons and Dragons and Achewood and some comic book sites and, okay, well maybe that site about naked women bending over but who can blame me? You can see everything!

Rasputin is floating over the crowd but Zell doesn't want the crowd filming Rasp flying, so she tells Klarion to fly up there and drag him to the ground because that would look much cooler on film than Rasp just hovering there.

Is that the end of the story? I suppose telling that boring ass story was slightly better than Ann Nocenti typing in big bold letters, "KLARION HAS NO EMPATHY!" But not by much.

All the cool kids into Technomancy who love to visit the Neapolitan Club can't actually handle real magic and get scared, so they begin throwing rocks at Klarion and Rasp and Zell. I guess that's like how I spent many of my teenage years hoping to get laid but then was absolutely terrified when a woman first told me she wanted my penis inside of her. And like the magic kids, instead of embracing what I'd most hoped for, I, too, threw rocks.

To escape from the mob, Klarion casts a spell to hide their retreat. And just in case the readers were unsure if the spell worked or not, one of the Technomancy kids says, "Where'd they go?" It worked! Huzzah!

Meanwhile, the cook and the landlady hang out on the roof discussing the children.

Later, Klarion and Zell have Dark Arts Training. One of the things Piper the Landlady tells Zell is that she must deal with her internet footprint. Why? What does that have to do with anything? Is that part of magic? Hiding your recent Google searches? Making sure nobody finds out who you're stalking on Facebook? If the power of the Neapolitan Club comes from knowing your "shame," then shouldn't you be training the children to block off the parts of their mind that deal with guilt? I don't think what you look at on the internet constitutes your shame. Unless, I suppose, you're Ann Nocenti and you simply believe everybody is looking at penises and vaginas whenever they log on to the internet. And even if they are, where's the shame in that? The shame is in believing that feeling and being sexual is a bad thing. Or that feeling those things by yourself while looking at strangers is a negative way to deal with your sexuality. Maybe I'm not the person to ask! I never feel shame.

Although I have thought a few times about deleting that retarded faggot stuff from earlier. Is that shame nibbling away at my mind?! Get away from that, you shame mice!

Coal and Necrot, the Abbott and Costello of the Neapolitan Club, discuss their newest toy, The Buddybots! They're little spidery things that people swallow and then the spidery thing takes the person over. They're self-replicating and use material from the host to grow and change. So, you know, they're nanobots. But a little bit bigger because they aren't corporate nanobots! They're "indie!" They've got that "zine spirit!" They're full on "D.I.Y." They're also upcycling but Coal doesn't mention that! Turning used up teenaged kids into useful techno-zombie soldiers.

Wait. That thing is going to crawl out of Rasp's ass and become his girlfriend?

At one point, Necrot asks Coal what his motivations are. What is he trying to accomplish with this scheme? And Coal says, "I live in an old bank vault, Necrot. What do you think I want?" Um, a studio apartment, at the very least? Some IKEA furniture? How did that answer the question?! Later Coal clarifies that he wants everybody to be addicted to the technology he's creating. I don't know how that equals "I live in a bank vault."

We also find out that Coal has a splinter in his heart! Aww! That'sh why he'sh sho grumpy, poor guy. Klarion just needs to remove the splinter and he'll be grateful and happy and carefree!

During training, Klarion and Zell remember that they're the only young boy and girl in this comic (not counting that loser, Rasp), so they'd better get to the making out part.

"Hello. Put your dick in me, Big Guy."

If that Buddybot had come out of his penis and made a pass at him, I would have declared my unending love for this comic book. I suppose the Buddybot was confused about where it should come out since I'm sure Rasp's palm smells like Rasp's penis.

Klarion #2 Rating: I should probably find an article where Ann Nocenti describes what this book is about because her books are always much better when she talks about the concept than the script she eventually writes about that concept. I guess the bad guys are going to take over the world using technology and make a lot of money because technology is just like magic in that everybody is under its spell. And the magic people are going to prevent the technomancers from taking over by using good old fashioned natural dark magic which will set everybody free from the allure of their cell phones! Also, some teenaged boys will fight over one teenaged girl because God forbid Nocenti introduce more females to steal the spotlight away from Zell.