Weathercraft

Weathercraft by Jim Woodring
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

There's really no halfway about it. You are either going to love this or hate it. In some alternate universe, Albrecht Durer and Robert Crumb dropped bad acid and had a love child. Jim Woodring is his name, and he has brought his observations from beyond the veils of our reality. They are not for the faint of heart or for those who are looking for robust plotting. All the characters are despicable in one way or another, and even Manhog's attempts at do-goodery are vain debacles that result in the same meaninglessness that existed before his failed attempts at charity. Like a sort of reverse-Fisher-King, Manhog's self-sacrifices come full circle as hell, rather than redemption, are reborn from his faux-repentance. This is an irreverent, surreal, utterly meaningless work that is striking in it's bizarre beauty and shocking amorality. You say you don't care? Neither does Woodring. But he doesn't care with panache!

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