I've just lent my dad From Hell, which many believe to be the greatest graphic novel of all time (Yes I know, Emily, but face it, you're wrong). Really I'm just returning the favour: he started buying me Tintin books when I was about six, after all.
Generally giving my dad something as postmodern as From Hell is a bad idea. I still remember when we watched The Usual Suspects. Things seem to be going quite well, though. We've had several debates about the architecture and alignments of Nicholas Hawksmoor's churches and their possible significance, for example. No, that isn't an unusual conversation for me and my dad.
In the meantime, over at N.A.O.W.F.I.T., another part of my life has been embellished and exploited for the tawdry purposes of fiction.
No comments:
Post a Comment