Originally published at: https://boingboing.net/2019/04/22/the-book-of-weirdo-a-history.html
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I’m being a Weirdo right now.
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Is DiCaprio more of a weirdo than previous known?
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i am as well
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The internet is nice and all, but can never match print’s ability to capture proper weirdo-ness.
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I’m thinking it’s a different Leonardo DiCaprio.
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After Humbug came Help! which lived for five years and included the first colloboration of Terry Gilliam and John Cleese.
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You forgot to mention cartoonist J. Bradley Johnson, one of the weirdest of the weird. Apart from his own self-published series like “Itchy Scaly” (named for his eczema), as far as I know he was only ever published by Weirdo, along with a couple of pages in Julie Doucet’s zine & in Snake Eyes magazine.
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Have the issues themselves ever been reprinted, or collected in book form? Snooping around on Amazon, I didn’t see anything suggesting this.
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Some of it was reprinted in books showcasing specific repeat artists, such as The Complete Crumb from Fantagraphics (I think much of, or all of Crumb’s Weirdo art was reprinted in the latter volumes), and some of Kim Deitch’s books, and probably others.
I know some of the early issues of Weirdo had additional printings as well and can be found at better comics/comix stores or eBay, etc. The whole set is well worth collecting/reading.
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Have you ever, without realizing it, dug yourself into a hole and then, when it suddenly dawns on you that you had monumentally fucked up, been too embarrassed to reverse your direction an inch?
Years ago, about 20 years ago, I wandered into a bar, one afternoon, in a lakeside town in Guatemala. I was totally baked but I still had room for a cooling ale. The place was empty but for the bar maiden and one guy perched at the adjacent edge of the bar flipping through a huge, like A4-sized book he’d been sharing glimpses of with the barkeep, who seemed impressed.
Being the only other person in the pub and seated at the bar, I made as if to overlook, even though I was a discrete distance away. The guy proffered the enormous book and let me thumb through it. It turned out to be these amazing hand drawn images of Mayan folklore, people, pyramids, jungle and the whole shebang – all done in the style of Robert Crumb. I complimented him on his enormous talent and the similarity in his style and offered him a joint, which he declined. Then as I threw down several beers I raved about how I’d recently seen this TV show that showed Crumb and his brother to be totally freakin weirdo folk - albeit with amazing musical ability (ah, how was I to know they were hamming it up – not the music, the weirdness). “Is this guy bothering you R?” says the barkeep. Well, sooner or later despite being stunned to find myself in such a farflung place in the same room, it occurred to me who I was talking to. I really hadn’t focused so much on his appearance. But I was now already too embarrassed to apologise after dissing the guy. Then I tried to cover my tracks – without admitting I knew who he was - by saying how much I liked Zap commix and it’s myriad of characters and Fritz the Cat etc. Being the introvert stoner I would often strike up a conversation without ever introducing myself or troubling the other person for their name. Guess I’m better with objects than people. Is it too late for me to be contrite Mr Crumb?
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