On Past Connections · 1:15am Dec 25th, 2020
I meant to get to this sooner, I swear, but the inclination to write about this comic never seemed to be there.
But at this point time will allow, and I do seem to feel like doing it now.
But let's talk about issue #91 rather than timing, since—I'm sorry to say—I'm continuing the rhyming.
There's a moral here we all can know: never forget to bring your banjo. It's better to have it and not need it there than to watch a musical number catch you unaware.
But really, the moral is sung out for all to see: in all relationships, communication is key. And that road runs both ways, for who would communicate with you if you won't really listen to what they say?
Clearly Rockhoof's beard earns it place by carefully guarding his poker face. When he points out what everycreature sees as if it's an observation from personal expertise, because of the beard he grew you can't tell if he's messing with you.
I get that talking to cacti stretches credulity, but would Tempest protest so if they took the only other option of choosing a direction arbitrarily? For safety, turning back would be best, but they can't do that; they're on a quest. That leaves just two options to proceed: follow the chasm one way or the other to seek what they need. If plants can talk, they know which way to walk; if plants never could, then either way's equally good.
Rocs, I imagine, are no strangers to the heat, but this one's in the wrong desert; there's no dragonlings here to eat.
But what do you think she normally needs to fly? Wind currents shouldn't be in short supply. Solar energy drives air around, and in a hot desert there's plenty of sunlight reaching the ground. (Of course, the result is affected by the high-pressure descending air, but all the same the energy has to go somewhere.)
After saving Dust Devil, do you think Crystal's smaller, or is it just me? I can't decide if I'm simply seeing what I expect to see.
In time, perhaps, like Tempest, I'd find it to be too hectic, but it'd be cool if real people had spontaneous musical numbers with costumes and pyrotechnics. There's not enough people in any season who are suddenly dressed like KISS for no actual reason.
But perhaps it's best to have some preparation first; it bugs me that Brook messed up the rhyme scheme in the opening verse.
Were I prescient I would not have been so fast to name a blog post "On the Elements of the Past." I wish I had saved that name, I'm sure you see, for when I could pun on a rather unexpected tree.
And I haven't a guess, I fear, what it means to find the Tree of Harmony out here.
Okay, for now my rhyming is completed. Unlike a certain Owl Lady my rhymes are never depleted, although I have (not today, I promise) in the past checked a rhyming dictionary and cheated. Still, my material about which to rhyme is now depleted.
You'll have to wait a couple of weeks if more rhymes are what you seek.
