There's no such thing as a perfect reading experience, but I came pretty fucking close when I was sitting on the grass at Maori Park Pool, drying off in the sun in the summer of 1993, trying to make sense of the these Love and Rockets comics I'd stumbled across and trying to fit the story all together through the few copies I could get together, which wasn't easy when the one collection I had reprinted a whole bunch of random shit out of order like they were interchangeable Archie comics or something, but at least I could use Tear it Up, Terry Downe as a key text to understanding it all, and it didn't really fucking matter because the fun was in the figuring, and when it got too hot again, it was back into the pool to cool off. I don't think it ever got any better.
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