It's getting ever jollier.

*As kind of an addendum to yesterday’s comics listings, and just because I know some of my readers will be interested in this: according to Tom Spurgeon, the latest edition of John Porcellino’s much-loved, long-running King Cat Comics, issue #65, is now available direct from the writer/artist, 40 digest pages for $3.00.

*Yet more Speakeasy: Rich Johnston returns to the subject to interview Speakeasy head Adam Fortier, bringing with him some of the concerns raised in the recent online discussion. Try to hang in there; I for one was suddenly seized by an urge to click the back button as soon as I saw Fortier’s very first answer, which begins by partially acknowledging the issue of Speakeasy’s increased production adversely affecting their sales, immediately claiming that there’s other factors involved without naming anything, then raising a hypothetical situation that has no bearing on the actual problem and using it to bow out of the question.

Things do not quickly improve (pay special attention to Fortier’s answer regarding conflict of interest with multimedia rights - it basically boils down to ‘oh don’t worry, trust us’), but do stick around for the climactic airing of a presently circulating email by artist ‘Dub’ of Studio Grafiksismik, in which further grievances against Speakeasy are vividly detailed, and Fortier responds at length with his own version of events. Very he said/she said, but illustrative of the myriad of problems that can arise in contemporary small-press comics publishing.

Elsewhere, Johanna Draper Carlson offers her own analysis of the interview (to match her analysis of the initial situation), and Johnston himself appears to comment.

Oh - also, Dave Lloyd liked the V for Vendetta movie or something. I recall Kevin O’Neill rather enjoyed the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen film too...

*Holidays are sinking into my flesh, my pores absorbing everything. Whether it’s the ferocious illumination of electric candy canes in windows, the leering stare of blow-up holiday sentinels guarding local lawns from intruders, or that frosty bottle of gin I purchased out of a man’s trunk last night for $5, the Christmas mood is hopping and bopping.

For example, my family was planning to engage in their yearly ritual filmic celebration, in which we all welcome each other home from far and wide and soon thereafter pile into the car to sit in the dark and watch things on a screen. Of course, it’s not always an outstandingly satisfactory trip, since we all have to actually agree on something to see - I somehow doubt Syriana will appeal to my Great Auntie (although perhaps I don’t truly know her). Thus, we often wind up with some rather dodgy, if widely palatable in theory choices (oh how I jingled my bells to The Grinch!). This year we all settled on King Kong though, which seemed like a really decent pick, more decent than I’d usually expect.

Which naturally meant that we didn’t get to go today. Maybe we’ll go tomorrow? We all have schedules to fuss around with too. Anyway, this necessarily delays the arrival of my King Kong comments; I briefly considered just listing my impressions as based on how I imagine the film turned out, but then I’d be talking about the dinosaurs lifting Jack Black up into their kingdom in the clouds where he sings them the most beautiful songs, and then he becomes He-Man and the biplanes shoot down the monkey with lasers. Also: all dogs in the film can speak flawless English. And that would just set me up for disappointment further down the line.