Barry Ween is not happy.
But then neither would you be if you had an IQ of 350, had mastered the art of human cloning, inter-dimensional travel and robotics, and proven not only the existence of - but also the complete pointlessness of attempting to communicate with - alien life, whilst having to suffer the indignity of living with your parents and going to school on a big yellow bus with a best friend who is more interested in the Oreos in your lunchbox than the fact that you've just managed to resurrect the dinosaurs. Never mind the fact that despite your massive intelligence, you're singularly incapable of conducting a coherent conversation with the foxy Asian chick that you have a crush on or that, most frustratingly of all, you're still waiting for your testicles to drop.
No. All of the above is bound to make you a pretty misanthropic customer and that's exactly what Barry is. You don't want to mess with him. He has a cavalier attitude towards the sanctity of human life and a particle accelerator in his school bag - and he knows exactly what to do with the latter. Seriously.
Featuring artwork that tangentially resembles "Calvin And Hobbes" and the sort of language that would make the Baby Jesus cry, Judd Winick's "Barry Ween Boy Genius" is probably the best kept secret in comics. It is brilliantly written and drawn and features the kind of dialogue that is both endlessly quotable and 'crack-you-up-and-have-you-convulsing-on-the-sofa-with-laughter' funny. Why it's not been praised from the rooftops, made into a big screen movie or at least syndicated into a late night adult cartoon show on "Comedy Central", I'll never know.
"The Big Book Of Barry Ween - Boy Genius" collects all twelve issues of Barry's adventures, runs to about three hundred and sixty one pages of glorious fun, filth and profanity and is rife with glorious pastiches of everything from "E.T." and "Die Hard" to "Men In Black" and "Conan The Barbarian".
Learn why Barry's mum prefers Barry's dad 'after' he has been regressed down the evolutionary ladder; why Barry's best friend, Jeremy, should never be left alone in the lab; how one deals with a basement full of obstreperous three-star generals and Centaurs and why, in the final poignantly drawn pages, Barry really is just as vulnerable as the rest of us lowly mortals.
Put your money down and take this ride, ladies and gentlemen.
You deserve the laughs and Judd Winick deserves the attention.