The walls and ceilings
Are constructs, they don’t exist
But the floor is real
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.
…I took this picture of a life-size Mr. Peanut Costume in an antique shop window in Depot Town, Ypsilanti; the hollow eyes mutely attest to the moral vacuity of a nut that desires nothing so much as it’s own gormandization…
Ham Heaven, in Ferndale. Out of business, now. But boy, did the pigs ever love being slaughtered and eaten at Ham Heaven.
Cover art for Piggleyland. Pen & Ink, Photoshop color, lens flare to irritate Greg.