On Handling of Silence · 10:48pm Apr 4th, 2021
You know what, I don't feel like sharing a random snippet of whatever's on my mind today. Let's just get to the point.
We all know this part serves no purpose anyway.
So let's talk about issue #95 now that we have the chance.
The moral of this story seems to be that words aren't everything. Some things don't need to be said. It's not the only way to communicate, and sometimes words are very unnecessary (and can only do us harm).
Although I'm sure a lot of the readers of these comics feel that certain words that are here unsaid are necessary, but tough. Everybody just has to deal with the fact that those are words we wanted, not words they needed. I myself will confess to finding the implicit nature of the resolution a bit unsatisfying, but I have the maturity to acknowledge the lack of a diegetic lack.
No, if I'm going to complain it's going to be about something extradiegetic, and if I'm going to complain about something extradiegetic it's going to be the captions. They're a crutch, and one that I don't think Toni Kuusisto needs. And they ruin the effect; we should be experiencing this crisis in silence just like the characters are. The art should tell a story unaided (other than by diegetically written words), and I think it could have. But it didn't.
Those who have a near-obsessive memory of all of the comics (i.e. me, except with a different opinion) might be tempted to compare this to issue #23 with the pets, but this is different. There may not have been verbal communication in that comic, but there was verbal-equivalent communication going on between the pets, and that's what the pictographic word balloons (which weren't even captions) were representing.
I can't help but wonder about this muffleta moss.
How does it survive in caverns that are usually completely isolated from the surface? Many mosses prefer shade, of course, but they're still dependent on photosynthesis. They need some source of light, and in those caverns I don't see any candidates beyond the rare sinkholes and explorers with lamps. Is there something bioluminescent down there that we didn't see? Does muffleta draw energy from both sound and light, allowing it to survive in an environment that has either (just so long as the sound isn't laughter)?
And more interestingly, why has no earlier explorer ever enabled an epidemic of moss? One might hypothesize that the moss is a relatively recent arrival down there, but even then the most plausible theory would seem to be that Starswirl accidentally introduced it to the area, which would imply it's been there for a millennium without getting out. Are visitors to the caverns truly that rare?
Also, is it flammable? I don't think burning all of the moss would have been a great idea, but I suspect it would have gotten rid of the moss (among other things).
So let's do a compilation of random observations:
- The mare being attacked by crabs on the first page is clearly the best thing since sliced bread.
- On page six, there's a pony who I'm pretty sure is trying to get rid of a bomb (a la Batman as played by Adam West).
- Is it just me, or is Dash flirting with the pony she saved from falling off a ladder? In any case, she's allowed some flings before she settles down with AJ.
- I choose to believe the pony with the eyepatch on pages eight and nine hurt herself with one of her punk accessories, but it was worth it.
- Who put up the poster "BREAD: Hoofmade by: DOUGH" (page twelve)?