Ah, I love the smell of satire in the morning. Of course, as I type this, it's not morning, it's late at night. And satire doesn't really have a smell, I suppose. If it did, I imagine it would be something like cow manure, wafting in the car window as you made your way through some seemingly untouched rural area. It's something of an offensive odor, sure, but it's also a reminder of basics truths we ignore day to day. Truths such as the fact that compared to the farmer who spread that natural fertilizer across his field, we pseudo-urban types have no idea what the meaning of a hard day's work really is. Or that the burger we had for lunch may have shat that unseen shit.
No, I've not been drinking.
My point is this: you've gotta love satire, even if it's dressed up in some sort of offensive way. Johnston's merciless send-up of an American culture of violence and ignorance is far from subtle. It's a slap in the face, and a welcome one at that.
Meet Bob and Sally. They're a deliriously happy couple living an idyllic life in American suburbia. They've got three kids -- a typically tortured teen and the always rambunctious twins -- and Grannie lives upstairs. Oh, and they've go guns. Lots of guns. And grenades. Other ordinance, too. And Bob and Sally have decided it's time to share the fun with their youngest kids, Ronnie and Nancy; after all, they've shared their prejudices and militia-mindedness. So the happy couple decides to take the whole clan down to Guns R Us.
Martinez's name is a new one to me, but he hits it out of the park with this effort. His cartoony approach suits the over-the-top, satirical tone of these characters perfectly, and the level of detail he brings to bear is more than a little impressive. His style here strikes me as an unusual cross between those of Gary (City of Silence) Erskine and Batton Supernatural Law) Lash. I think the visual highlight of the book is Grannie's introduction. The energy and dementia that Martinez injects into that scene really makes the most of that brief and surreal moment in Johnston's script.
I can't help but wonder if this book is funnier for those on the outside looking in. In other words, I wonder if this is funnier for us non-Americans. Make no mistake... this is an anti-American book. British writer Rich Johnston spends the whole issue preaching about What's Wrong With You People. Does he paint the entire U.S. populace with the same brush? Certainly not. He takes aim at those Americans... well, those who take actual aim with gleeful abandon.
My favorite aspect of this book isn't the humor, but rather Johnston's refusal to back away from any material, no matter how taboo in the minds of the politically correct. He incorporates incomfortable subject matter and gets the reader to laugh at it as well. At the same time, though, that disconcerting tone remains, and it's meant to. This isn't just about poking fun at America. It's about revealing the dangers of the culture explored through exaggeration here. The reader should be amused but disturbed as well.
