Transmetropolitan vol 3: Year Of The Bastard back

"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 pit bulls for fun. And you ain't allowed out until you all vote on what you're going to do tonight. You'd 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 your eye can see, votes to fuck you with switchblades.

"That's voting. You're welcome."

Very helpful, Spider. Thank you.

Spider Jerusalem has a second unwilling assistant foisted upon him by his editor. She's called Yelena, but don't expect him to remember that. Worse still his editor is demanding that Jerusalem sinks himself back into the quagmire of politics for the opposition party's Presidential nominations. That will require an awful lot of drugs.

First up is Senator Gary Callahan, sitting there with his rictus grin behind both a political director and a political consultant who squabble. It's Tony Blair, and he's a fake. But the alternative is far worse: a racist fear-monger whose rallies sound like Nuremberg. What's an uncompromising campaigning journalist to do? Manipulate the least awful option into promising hard policy on physical problems because someone has to oust the incumbent President somewhere down the line. Unfortunately for Spider there are more unfortunate truths to be uncovered.

Darick does a remarkable job of keeping what is essentially political debate and swearing visually stimulating, Warren affording him whole pages to go nuts on, surrounding a maniacal Jerusalem with hellfire as he assaults his laptop and thereby the minds of his New Scum followers.