Vs. The Universe

Yesterday I received this random text message from my girlfriend, who has read about as many comics as I have fashion magazines:

“Omg Scott Pilgrim just dumped knives!”

If that’s not a testament to the genius of Bryan Lee O’Malley’s work, I don’t know what is.

Scott Pilgrim

I’ve been in a bit of a Scott Pilgrim overload mode the past week.  Since starting to follow O’Malley on Twitter, I’ve be inundated with hype for the movie, the cast of which is chock full of hotties on both sides of the gender line. Plus Volume 5 is due out next week. And O’Malley will be in town all week for signings, promotions and the looming monolith of the New York Comic Con. In fact, he’ll be here almost a week from tonight:

I’ll definitely be there in line, debating whether or not I should mention to him what an incredible influence Scott Pilgrim has been on me and specifically the Ronin Dojo stuff.  There’s a secret special surprise piece of merch or something that’s be put together by Oni Press for the event and other signings all that week, so, y’know, I can’t fight it. Limited edition? Exclusive? Fanboy instincts take over at the mention of those words. I’m so there.

Indoctrinating outsiders to comics is something I’m hesitant to do. I know its a niche hobby, and I am well aware of how those pushy evangelists of sequential art come across to non-readers. But Scott Pilgrim. . . I don’t know. For my girlfriend, it won’t be a gateway comic to an obsession that will match mine. But it’s a book, a character and a story that boyfriends and girlfriends can enjoy together. Unlike Twilight. I am not reading that. Ever. Deal with it, girlfriend.

So they’re not actually werewolves, they’re shapeshifters?  THIS MAKES NO SENSE TO ME.