(Continuing a look back at a comic strip for a small universe)
Although it had been red for at least 60 years, somebody didn’t care, didn’t notice, or decided that black was a preferable comedic color.
Suspicion thus falls on an aesthetically impaired amnesiac who wets himself laughing over Poe and Kafka.
Black is funereal; the color of tragedy and self-doubt. Black is the choice of petite bourgeois, Huguenots, gentry. These are precisely the posturing, effete nobs the Comedy Club was founded to escape from.