Oh Calvin and Hobbes, how I love thee!
During the ten brief years of thy lifespan, thou didst bring a wealth of wonder, warmth, and wit to the comic pages of newspapers throughout the world. Thy writing did make me laugh even harder than the brilliant single-panel cartoons of Gary Larson, yet thy characters captured my heart even more dearly than those of Charles M. Schulz' masterpiece. Thou didst show the world with just three or four panels a day, how to be hilarious and intelligent at the same time.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, how I love thy artwork. Not only wast thou smart and funny, thou wast beautiful to look upon. Forsooth, thy alien landscapes and sprawling images of a boy and his furry friend sledding towards disaster--through a deciduous forest of the type to which every child should have access--were truly pleasing unto the eyes.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, how I love the insightfulness of thy stories. The tale in which Moe stole Calvin's toy truck was funny, yet sad in that it reminded us of the unfairness of childhood, and, indirectly, life in general, and how a harsh part of growing up is the recognition of that unfairness. Yet, that story was comforting in that it reminded us that the unfairness of life is something that we all share. Such a small story, yet rather poignant. (If any of ye say that I do read too much into it, my answer unto thee is
). The entertaining-but-touching truthfulness of this story is representative of the many excellent sequences thou didst present.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, there was no pressing need for a humorous cartoon to portray dinosaurs with anything resembling scientific accuracy, and yet thy author regularly did so. While early appearances of allosaurs within thy panels had the silly appearance one would expect of prehistoric creatures in a comic world, after a short time thy author--Bill Watterson--didst begin to draw the inhabitants of the Mesozoic Era with attention to detail that would make proud the editors of paleontological journals, taking care never to show carnosaurs from the late Cretaceous period interacting with sauropods of the Jurassic time. Why hast Watterson done this thing? Because he didst love his subject matter. For that, I love thee.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, thy author believed that if he heavily merchandised his creation, he would cheapen its value, undercut any messages it might share, and possibly reduce his freedom to produce anything even remotely controversial. Yet, by sticking like glue to this belief, he went against the wishes of his Syndicate, would-be toy manufacturers and vendors, would-be animation houses who would have liked to produce animated specials or movies based on thy characters, and possibly even a large portion of his own fans who would have gladly spent unreasonable amounts of dough on junk like little stuffed Hobbes dolls with suction-cup feet that thou canst stick in the back window of thy Toyota. In holding true to what was in his heart, he didst turn down the opportunity to become richer than Midas (Certain I am that he was not poor, but far richer he could have been). Such solitary, lonely devotion to what one considers to be right in the midst of widespread opposition is one of the traits I most admire in my heroes.
Oh, how I love Suzie. And Rosalyn. And Calvinball. And Club GROSS. And Stupendous Man. And the box that functioneth as a duplicator, transmogrifier, or time-machine depending upon how one openeth it. How I feel sympathy for Calvin's parents. And Miss Wormwood. And the snowmen leading tragic lives. How I wish Galaxoid and Nebular had been introduced earlier and made more appearances.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, when I read thy panels, I find treasure everywhere. Thanks in large part to thee, it is a magical world.
During the ten brief years of thy lifespan, thou didst bring a wealth of wonder, warmth, and wit to the comic pages of newspapers throughout the world. Thy writing did make me laugh even harder than the brilliant single-panel cartoons of Gary Larson, yet thy characters captured my heart even more dearly than those of Charles M. Schulz' masterpiece. Thou didst show the world with just three or four panels a day, how to be hilarious and intelligent at the same time.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, how I love thy artwork. Not only wast thou smart and funny, thou wast beautiful to look upon. Forsooth, thy alien landscapes and sprawling images of a boy and his furry friend sledding towards disaster--through a deciduous forest of the type to which every child should have access--were truly pleasing unto the eyes.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, how I love the insightfulness of thy stories. The tale in which Moe stole Calvin's toy truck was funny, yet sad in that it reminded us of the unfairness of childhood, and, indirectly, life in general, and how a harsh part of growing up is the recognition of that unfairness. Yet, that story was comforting in that it reminded us that the unfairness of life is something that we all share. Such a small story, yet rather poignant. (If any of ye say that I do read too much into it, my answer unto thee is
). The entertaining-but-touching truthfulness of this story is representative of the many excellent sequences thou didst present.Oh Calvin and Hobbes, there was no pressing need for a humorous cartoon to portray dinosaurs with anything resembling scientific accuracy, and yet thy author regularly did so. While early appearances of allosaurs within thy panels had the silly appearance one would expect of prehistoric creatures in a comic world, after a short time thy author--Bill Watterson--didst begin to draw the inhabitants of the Mesozoic Era with attention to detail that would make proud the editors of paleontological journals, taking care never to show carnosaurs from the late Cretaceous period interacting with sauropods of the Jurassic time. Why hast Watterson done this thing? Because he didst love his subject matter. For that, I love thee.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, thy author believed that if he heavily merchandised his creation, he would cheapen its value, undercut any messages it might share, and possibly reduce his freedom to produce anything even remotely controversial. Yet, by sticking like glue to this belief, he went against the wishes of his Syndicate, would-be toy manufacturers and vendors, would-be animation houses who would have liked to produce animated specials or movies based on thy characters, and possibly even a large portion of his own fans who would have gladly spent unreasonable amounts of dough on junk like little stuffed Hobbes dolls with suction-cup feet that thou canst stick in the back window of thy Toyota. In holding true to what was in his heart, he didst turn down the opportunity to become richer than Midas (Certain I am that he was not poor, but far richer he could have been). Such solitary, lonely devotion to what one considers to be right in the midst of widespread opposition is one of the traits I most admire in my heroes.
Oh, how I love Suzie. And Rosalyn. And Calvinball. And Club GROSS. And Stupendous Man. And the box that functioneth as a duplicator, transmogrifier, or time-machine depending upon how one openeth it. How I feel sympathy for Calvin's parents. And Miss Wormwood. And the snowmen leading tragic lives. How I wish Galaxoid and Nebular had been introduced earlier and made more appearances.
Oh Calvin and Hobbes, when I read thy panels, I find treasure everywhere. Thanks in large part to thee, it is a magical world.
