Multiple Warheads #1

            I’ve fallen in love again. The object of my affection may be entirely unavailable, and I presume getting courted by many other, more impressive suitors. I wouldn’t be surprised in the slightest, because Multiple Warheads is delightful. Multiple Warheads is funny and quirky, its beautiful and surreal, its subtly poignant and altogether enthralling. I know I’m not the only one vying for reciprocation from Multiple Warheads, but I’m so in love that I don’t believe I even care.

            I can’t even pinpoint its best quality.

            What Brandon Graham, the creator who also drew and wrote the entirety of the sprawling 48 pages, has given everyone here is a masterpiece that spits in the face of masterpieces and makes me want to curl up on the couch next to it, cuddling and watching a mediocre romantic comedy until the end of forever.

            If I had the authority to give out Nobel Peace Prizes, I’d give on to Graham, because if the world leaders could read just all read this book, they could sit around, drinking hot cocoa and talking about it for so long that they’d all just hug and play Pokemon instead of going to war.

            Okay, so maybe that one crossed the line a little bit.

            But in all seriousness, what Graham has put out is a testament to the comic book medium in general. It is whimsical, inventive, beautiful and remarkable in its darkness all in one fell swoop. Sexica and Nikoli are a couple traveling across a the happiest dystopia I’ve ever scene. Sexica is a former organ runner who gifted Nikoli with a wolf penis (seriously), and they are traveling across the country with a car named Lenin because a spaceship crashed into their house.

            The story here is the most creative I’ve seen. And that’s just the beginning of Graham’s incredibly writing. Whether it’s dialogue between two main characters or banter to pass the time while the art is doing the work, it’s funny or intriguing, and there isn’t a wasted word inside the pages.

            And the art is, as I’ve said twice now, absolutely mesmerizing. It’s one of the few books that I’ve read where the art is really worth sitting and staring at for an extended period of time. It’s colorful and disarming, detailed and powerful. No matter what it is, talking dragonheads or racially sensitive cow people, they are drawn in a masterful fashion.

            Also, there are singing cigarettes.

            I’ve run out of positive adjectives, and I presume Graham would say no to a marriage proposal, but I’ll finish with this: if I read a better comic book, I think I’ll cry.