Aulisio, Pat – Inhabitants



I’ve decided: for certain artists, I’m going to be as hypocritical as possible and decide that spelling errors are OK.  I know, I bitch about it all the time for most every person on this site (at least the ones who always screw it up), but Pat gets a pass.  Why?  Hm.  Well, there’s just something hilarious about a story predicated on the notion of a lack of oscillation of a fan where the author can’t even spell “oscillation” correctly.  Not that it’s an easy word, but simply typing a variation of the word into the Google will get you the correct answer.  He actually started off the story wrong and shifted to the correct spelling towards the end, like somebody told him the correct spelling and he couldn’t be bothered to fix the earlier errors.  In a book that is artistically his best book yet, I choose to be be amused instead of shaking my head in despair.  Hey, progress!  Not that that lets the rest of you off the hook, and this hypocrisy might go away entirely for the next Aulisio book.  So anyway, how about this comic?  It’s huge, magazine-sized (and yet still considered a mini comic), and there’s even a burst in the middle when we get to see his artwork in glorious color.  Jogger (who you might remember from at least one older Aulisio book) is perfectly content to sit in his room with his fan.  Suddenly it stops oscillating, and he travels throughout the world to find a way to fix this problem.  Along the way he crosses over the outer barrier, wanders silently through some thoroughly bizarre landscape, gets a cube from the King of Cubes (useless to solve his problem, but hey, he did ask the King of Cubes for help), calls a friend and is informed that he was given a very special cube, uses said cube to stop a whirling vortex by transferring this vortex directly into his brain, goes into a negative space, and meets up with the King of Crystals.  Can you guess how he tries to help Jogger?  There are long stretches of silence in this book, but he’s found a happy medium between silent comics and, um, talkies with this one.  Those wide vistas of utter chaos are needed to help rein in the more casual conversation.  There’s no price, but a book with color involved that’s this huge has to be at least $5.

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