Transmetropolitan Quote Time!

"There are twelve different channels showing LAW AND ORDER 24 hours a day. In some countries, Jerry Orbach has become a cargo-cult figure. They don't understand the language or much of the situations. They comprehend only that Jerry Orbach is immortal. They watch and divine from the show that he outlives the young gods who are selected to be his assistants. Criminals fall. DAs change. Assistants fade away. Jerry Orbach is forever. Jerry Orbach is, in fact, some kind of avenging God-King who will hunt and incarcerate Scum until the end of time."

 

You look like someone nailed a bat to your throat.

 

So we've got a deadline. We can do deadlines.

 

If you loved me, you'd all kill yourselves today.

 

LISTEN TO THE CHAIR LEG OF TRUTH. IT DOES NOT LIE!

 

HOLD THE FRONT PAGE!

YOU'RE NOT ****ING WITH MY FRONT PAGE!

 

We live in a monoculture.

What does that mean? Well, go out to your street corner. You'll probably see a Long Pig stand, SPKF on a screen somwhere, an Angry Boy Dylan's Gun Store. You'll go into a record store and see new recordings by the usual suspects, maybe a special Space Culture display rack.

Go out on a streetcorner in London and you'll see the same thing. Same in Prague. Same in Sao Paulo. Same in Osaka, and Grozny, and Tehran, and Jo'burg, and Hobart.

That's what a monoculture is. It's everywhere, and it's all the same. And it takes up alien cultures and digests them and ****s them out in a homogenous building-block shape that fits seamlessly into the vast blank wall of the monoculture.

This is the future. This is what we built. This is what we wanted. It must have been. Because we all had the ****ing choice, didn't we? It is only our money that allows commercial culture to flower. If we didn't want to live like this, we could have changed it at any time, by not ****ing paying for it.

So let's celebrate by all going out and buying the same burger.

 

My journalistic ovaries are twitching.

 

You want to know about voting. I'm here to tell you about voting.

Imagine you're locked in a huge underground nightclub filled with sinners, whores, freaks and unnameable things that rape pitbulls for fun. And you ain't allowed out until you all vote on what you're going to do tonight. You like to put your feet up and watch Republican Party Reservation. They like to have sex with normal people using knives, guns and brand-new sexual organs that you did not know existed. So you vote for television, and everyone else, as far as the eye can see, votes to **** you with switchblades.

That's voting.

You're welcome.

 

EDIT: Your first deadline's tomorrow. I want to see eight thousand words. Printable words. I still remember that essay you wrote when the Beast got elected. I do not want to see the word "****" typed eight thousand times again.

 

You were so worried about guns and ****, but you know what? I learned from you. Misdirection. Like killing your wife or students or something - making people look at the wrong thing.

You were so concerned about my guns. You heard all the reports about my shooting people. You didn't realize I got rid of both weapons. And you didn't check me for anything else. The first trick I ever pulled on you, Callahan, remember?

I'm soaked in source gas. Which is feeding directly to the news crews outside.

 

Journalism is just a gun. It's only got one bullet in it, but if you aim right, that's all you need. Aim it right, and you can blow a kneecap off the world.

 

This thread is only causing me Comics I Need To Get Around To Reading guilt.
Although I do remember reading an arc of this back in the day.

 

One percent!

 

*Faux-rebellious pseudo-intellectual quip*

 

Wrong target. Go back to trolling Quix's thread.

 

These are the new streets of this city, where the New Scum try to live. You and me. And here in these streets are the things that we want: sex and birth, votes and traits, money and guilt, television and teddy bears. But all we've actually got is each other. You decide what that means.

 

So I take it that, if I liked PREACHER, I would've enjoyed this series?