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Today’s Pulp Purchase: The Life and Times of the Shmoo

ShmoobookShmooGuard

This book was pressed repeatedly into service (This edition is like the seventh printing within 2 years) when the Great Shmoo Craze of the late 1940’s was at its apex, and before my friend Laurel’s Grandfather was left with hundreds of unsaleable plaster Shmoos, which he abandoned in an attic in Royal Oak, MI. I like to think they’re still standing there…

Al Capp was the evil genius behind the Shmoo, who live to serve mankind, to serve mankind joyfully of their own delicious little bodies,  which when flambéed taste like fugu and when spatchcocked taste like heritage ptarmigan.

This specific book is a cynical,  horrible pastiche of excerpted drawings ripped from the strip, thinly linked with a halfassed written narrative. featuring distracting construction-paper colored margins and backgrounds. Frank Frazetta was Al Capp’s ghost artist, so there’s that, sometimes. And the cover itself is delightful.

Autosarcophagy Fig.5: the Shmoo

…I do realize that true autosarcophagy requires that you eat yourself, and I’ve wantonly expanded the category in these threads to include simple vorarephilia, but I’m really speaking to a theme, a theme of enthusiastic, fetishistic self-sacrifice.

When the Repiglicans look at you, they see a Shmoo in training.

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