Part One: What I Believe.
Originally published as the editorial in Slightly Bent Comics #1.
I BELIEVE in music, I BELIEVE in love. But not necessarily in that order.
I BELIEVE for every drop of rain that falls, one is leaking into my basement.
I BELIEVE before the end of time, the title of every pop song ever released will also be used as the title of a movie.
I BELIEVE civilization reached a peak with the invention of the prescription swimming goggles.
I BELIEVE on of the best titles ever for a comic book is “Mysterious Suspense” (Charlton, 1968), because mysterious suspense is truly the best kind of suspense.
I BELIEVE in the universal, healing power of sarcasm.
I BELIEVE George Reeves (TV’s Superman of the 1950s) was a great actor. So you can synchronize your aesthetic tastes to mine right now, as long as you know mine are correct.
I BELIEVE it’s not what you can do, it’s what you can repeat.
I BELIEVE it’s not what you can do, it’s what you can repeat.
I BELIEVE it would be inappropriate to foist my vegetarian beliefs on others, so if you want to slaughter sentient mammals just to have a heart-clogging bacon-burger, I will give you no grief.
I BELIEVE the glass is half empty and half full. We call this reality.
But I BELIEVE the half-full part is a lot more fun.
I BELIEVE being alive is a caper. We’ve stolen existences from the vaults of the Carbon-Based-Life-Form Bank & Trust and zipped off in the getaway car of biology. I’m giddy about it.
But then, I BELIEVE exuberance should be the default emotion for human beings. We should all snap back to it when not otherwise engaged, like when, you know: working.
I BELIEVE those who can find exuberance in their work are lucky dogs.
Or other lucky domestic pets of your choosing.
Part 2: What I Don’t Believe
Originally published as the editorial in Slightly Bent Comics #2.
I DON’T BELIEVE I caught your name. I’m Walt.
I DON’T BELIEVE everything I read, which is odd, because I do believe everything I smell.
I DON’T BELIEVE in ghosts, except for Capser, ’cause he’s friendly. In fact, I say this with authority: he’s the friendliest ghost in town.
I DON’T BELIEVE my personal life is anybody’s business but my own, except for maybe a few close friends, family and oh yeah, “The E True Hollywood Story.”
I DON’T BELIEVE in fairy tales. I mean: a pig? Who can make a “house” of straw? A “house” that gets, like, blown down? By a wolf? Yeah, right. Who do they take us for?
I DON’T BELIEVE how good you look! Are those new glasses? And you’ve lost weight! HOW? You must tell me! Treadmill?
I DON’T BELIEVE you should write checks in grocery store lines, unless you don’t have cash or credit cards, and if you don’t have cash or credit cards, please, don’t go grocery shopping.
I DON’T BELIEVE there’s anything more beautiful than a sunset, except for a sunset in the background of a Victoria’s Secrets catalog photo.
I DON’T BELIEVE in government conspiracies. Conspiracies require competence and coordination.
I DON’T BELIEVE you ignore that whole “Wag the Dog” thing, though.
I DON’T BELIEVE in not believing.
I DON’T BELIEVE in spreading bad Karma, hatred, intolerance, paranoia, gossip or flu germs.
I DON’T BELIEVE you paid attention all this time.
But I’m glad you did.
Walt Jaschek means that.
