Just more silliness.

Of course they’re getting it all wrong.  This is the early ’40’s, not 2002.  They really do think they can convert somebody’s sexuality.

Makes you wonder if the people who think love can be converted have ever fallen in love.  If they really had, they’d know you can’t do a damn thing about who you want to bed.  The Greeks had it right when they portrayed the arrow through the heart.

Oh, come on, this story is about sexy fun.

Being one of my story, it quickly devolves into misunderstandings, anger, self-loathing and blame. I’m not really spoiling anything here, am I?  I figure by issue 11, you’re waiting for everything to start sliding toward the cliff.

Nobody gets out of these things clean.

Other societies treat prostitution differently, especially those where it’s part of an ancient tradition.

The only thing I’m saying about prostitution in this story is this is how it is in this one little House.  It’s in the middle of nowhere, but has had a history of serving a good class of customer, who may travel some distance to visit it.

I don’t know how long it’s been there.  Long enough to have a European clientèle.  Possibly it’s a movable feast — the girls follow their madam. There’s probably the normal coercion between an employer and employees, if nothing more than economic opportunity and the paycheck. The girls make the best of it in this moment in time.

No excuses for any of this; it’s just part of the story.  Draw your own conclusions.

Arnold, there, doesn’t even know what tribe he’s from.  Mama was German, Papa was First Nations living in Chicago.  He was a tile-setter.  Arnold — how he got into the German army is complicated, and is in Bread and Swans — can’t resist supporting his comrades in their awe-struck belief in the Noble Savage.

Welcome to Issue #11, “Straight and Narrow.”

This issue is all about peer pressure.

None of the men in the 469th would worry about the Peach any more, until other people begin to harass them about it.  I wish this issue were dated, but unfortunately it’s still completely relevant.  Sigh.

Udo really hates references to his height, too.  It’s a wonder he allows himself to be seen with the Peach, whose tallness makes him seem even shorter in comparison.

The things we do for love.

One Peach book (#6) was nicknamed the “stray puppy” issue — it even had puppies on the cover.  He’ll take in anybody who looks like they need a flea-bath and a bowl of kibble.

Tomorrow we start “Straight and Narrow,” in which the boys all try to straighten out the Peach. Yeah, that’s going to go well.

The Englishman here was originally supposed to die.  But the series hadn’t quite gotten that dark, yet.  You’ll want to wait for issue 13.

In the meantime, we’ll have the cheery issues of latent homophobia and unintentional date rape, and of forgiveness and adding to the population of the planet.  There will be cute butts and babies.  If you’re into that sort of thing.

Don’t ask me why the men tease Winzig for the same behavior they respect in the Peach.  Maybe it’s a male/female thing — women can get away with wearing anything, while men are stuck in suits and trousers (applause for you Utilikilt guys).

What’s to say about this page?  A Brit misjudging the Down-unders again. This is the fault of my Australian readers, with their Pommie remarks.  I’m just going with what I heard. Writers are dangerous.

Ask any Australian; the British never seem to get that there’s a long, bad history between the down-under Criminals and the People Who Shipped them There.

The Aussies seem to have tried to at least recognize what they did to the people they oppressed so horribly, the Australian aboriginals.  While the Canadians apologized to First Nations officially, the Aussies apologized as a nation, and spontaneously.  Then their government did — though nobody’s giving any land back or compensating for original abuses.

(I don’t know why I’m in this discussion; I’m Rom. We don’t have a country and we don’t WANT one.)

There’s a story of a British jeep chasing a Kuebelwagen until their radiator blew — and then the German crew running in circles around them making smart remarks until their oil level dropped and froze their engine.

Probably apocryphal, but it’s physically possible.  There’s another story of a German pilot running out of ammunition during the battle of Britain — but still flying close enough to Allied bombers to allow them to see him making faces at them.

The stories probably say more about German excess of stubborn, lack of fear, and an overdose of smart-assedness.  You might think they’re stiff people, but get them riled up and watch what happens. You’d better hope they’re not drunk when they do it.

So much for Pfirsich not using his relationship to Rommel; it’s no use playing shy if They Already Know.

There’s no use pointing out internal inconsistencies in my books, because I already know nothing is consistent.  My generation is divided between those who read Atlas Shrugged and those who read The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy.” AS readers started as moony teens looking for answers to everything.  HGG’s know the answer is 42 — but the question is “What’s 6 x 9?”

How much is 6 x 9?  That’s right…. reality doesn’t line up.

More fun with authors and their old books:

A bookstore in Seattle had received a badly-bound Desert Peach collection, and sighed, “Here’s $9.00 I won’t get back.”  I grabbed it, drew the Peach sighing, “Well, that’s the last time we let Udo help with the binding,” and it was marked up to $35.00.

Outside New York’s Strand bookstore, I found a beat-up copy of a DP collection, and filled the blanks with original art, with the note that for a $1.00, “Look at all the original art you can get — and don’t tell them.”  People watching me told me I couldn’t do that to the Strand’s books. I said, “Shut up, I”m the author.”  Then I put the book in the shelf and walked off.  I adore leaving booby-traps I never see the end of.  Always wondered about that one, and if anybody bought it — or if the Strand discovered it ahead of time and put it in the collectibles.

More fun drawing the BMW motorcycle and trying to cram in as much hilarious action as possible.

Well, the Peach and Winzig don’t think it’s funny.  But the actors who play them both have condos in Hawaii for doing stunts in these stories.

This page is for sale, too.  $225.00.  These ARE Desert Peach pages.