I had heard of Columbia a long time ago but I haven't mustered any interest in his work until a few weeks before the date of this review. And though my eyes had passed through all sorts of bizarre, scabrous, horrific things, graphical or written, Columbia's work climbed to the top after only a few glances. But it's not only about the black rays of the sun of melancholy polluting these pages. It's also about Columbia's original drawing style. He captures distorted facial expressions with surgical precision and his optics are decidedly a foodborne intoxication consequent to Naked Lunch and maybe some lectures on lives of saints and mystics. He is so muscular in his insanity that he manages to depict Heaven itself as another Hell. There is no trace of reality in this thing, it's only pure insular projection. Though not all the stories have the same impact (Bruja wasn't an exceptional one), the title story, Li'l Saint Anthony, Extinction and maybe even Tar Frogs (despite its irritating likeness to Eraserhead matter) make for a huge amount of quality.