In this post-modern world, where we doubt ourselves, our expressions, our very reality, not much is certain. At least for those of us who ascribe those wanky, somewhat debatable beliefs to Reality. But I think there’s one thing those of us who enjoy funny books and post-modernism can agree upon. One pointed, penetrating, non-perishable truth. That pierces through the pall of Post-Modernity: Jack Kirby is as awesome as it gets. In Reality. He’s the Best. And today, August 28, 2015, he would have been 98. Now sadly (for us, not him) he’s sloughed his mortal coil, transcended its greasy, entropy-bound parameters. But he’s still out there, surfing the gnarly astral waves. Beckoning us to join him. And while it is not our time to join him yet, let us honor Kirby.

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