If you study the form of comics intimately, you will learn their secret. They are our last link to an ancient way of passing on history. The Egyptians drew on walls; countries all over the world still pass on knowledge through pictorial form. What if comics were a form of history that someone somewhere felt or experienced? Then of course those experiences and that history got chewed up in the commercial machine, got jazzed up made titillating cartoons for the sales rack.

When evolution selects its agents it does so at a cost. It makes demands in exchange for singularity and you may be asked to do something against your very nature. Suddenly the change in your life that should've been wonderful comes as a betrayal. It may seem cruel, but the goal is nothing short of self-preservation... survival. This force, evolution, is not sentimental. Like the Earth itself, it knows only the hard facts of life's struggle with death. All you can do is hope and trust that when you've served its needs faithfully... there may still remain some glimmer... of the life you once knew.

Evolution is an imperfect and often violent process. A battle between what exists, and what is yet to be born. In the midst of these birth pains, morality loses its meaning. The question of good and evil reduced to one simple choice: survive, or perish.

Do you know what the scariest thing is? To not know your place in this world, to not know why you're here. For all his bluster, it is the sad province of Man that he cannot choose his triumph. He can only choose how he will stand when the call of destiny comes... hoping that he'll have the courage to answer. This will not be like a comic book; real life does not fit into little boxes that were drawn for it.