Thanks for making me feel like a tool in the foreward, Robert. Anyways, Miz Tyler is a comix artist with a rustic and rushed feeling in the panels, and when it works it comes off as pure non-drama, golden like 60s neorealism, with a DIY aesthetic of handwritten type and cool hyperbole. The pieces in the latter half outshine the other dandelions of this book, the best being "Harddrive to Heartbreak," "Gone," and short 4-panels like "American Labels" (seems Tyler's personality comes through with brevity, so the longer tales sometimes get stale). The tales usually concern growing up, motherhood, redneck boyfriends, and re-growing up. I picked a shitty reason to pick this off the shelf, but the berating was worth it, Crumb. Subtle, sometimes satirical, stubborn, real, funny, disgusting--watching Tyler bloom is a good read.