Take today, for instance. It was a perfectly beautiful morning. I woke up and read PAD's "Madrox: Multiple Choice". Beautiful and moody artwork by Pablo Raimondi (yes, he of the "Books of Doom" fame). Even more beautiful character work and witty dialogue by PAD himself.
Then I came downstairs and the dog was in the living room. It looked at me like it had been buried under the snows of Kilimanjaro. Actually, it just ate half of my son's maths exercise book. Thankfully, it's not a schoolbook. Otherwise, the age-old excuse to teachers that "my dog ate my homework" will actually be true for the first time ever. It also gnawed on Superman and Martian Manhunter. Imagine that. Darkseid couldn't do it but my dog did it!
Following that, I went online and wrote complaint messages to my pastor about how church people (read: leaders) behave like dogs let off their leashes. They absolutely do not know what to do. They will start messing up everything with their vomit and urine. Take Sunday, for example. A perfectly beautiful day with a wonderful preacher from Bangladesh. He preached on Jonah. And no, it wasn't funny. It was, in fact, heartbreakingly beautiful. It was the start of Missions Month in church and he preached on the foundations of missions being the love of God but how we as his children more often decide to go the other way. As if to prove how true his sermon was, the beloved elder and his daughter (yes, the one with that irritating voice and critter-like smile) came up during Announcements and actually went the other way. No, not to Joppa. More like to some Paleolithic settlement up north.
Like I said, my life is full of "Peter David"-flavoured absurdities. I went to church to look for God and all I got was a businessman (who isn't even very good at running a business). More accurately, I got a mediocre businessman who greets people with his "Shaloms" while reminding you to throw in your lucre into the offering bag so that great and wonderful construction/renovation programmes can be carried out in the Name of the Good Lord. I've had quite enough of this nonsense. From now on, I'll take my religion from the likes of Solomon Kane (at least he kills demons) and Rahne Sinclair (who chases after psychic adulterers in her wolf-like form).
Anyway, this post is really about Peter David's X-Factor. The Madrox hardcover is actually Volume #0. It's very, very, very, very, very, very good. So good that if I get my life story written one day, I'd want PAD to write it and Pablo Raimondi to draw it. No, I do not look like Jaime Madrox. I'm more in the neighbourhood of Guido but substitute the muscles for fat.
