By Amy Silverman
By Olivia LaVecchia
By Monica Alonzo and Stephen Lemons
By Chris Parker
By Michael Lacey
By Weston Phippen
I remember reading more than one letter ranking on Lynda J. Barry's illustration style, story contents, or both. I am compelled to stick up for the strip after just reading Skreddy (September 5). First, the "ride down the slip 'n' slide bummer of life," which I could feel in my stomach, then I laughed out loud at the reckless abandon of Skreddy. Then, on the roof, "Rock is my life, a giant squid is my wife . . ." Maybe it is funnier to me because my wife is a giant squid, too.
Anyway, Ernie Pook's Comeek is unique and cool, and I am glad it has endured the years and not disappeared.
I read M. V. Moorhead's movie reviews and I agree with most of them. But I must say that Kansas City had to be one of the worst movies I have ever seen ("Riff Trade," August 15). I could not find one redeeming quality in the acting; the only part of the film that was enjoyable, apart from the closing credits, was the music. I think this is by far the worst movie Robert Altman has ever directed.
One interesting case of a good guy butchering dogs is Sylvester Stallone in First Blood, where he put away two or three bloodhounds that were tracking him down ("Pet Reprieve," M. V. Moorhead, August 1).
Keep up the good work. It's so refreshing to pick up New Times after a morning with the Arizona Republic.