Thoughts From the Man Himself

 

Anyone who has followed SHADE with an intimate eye over the last fifty episodes, or even those who have jumped gaily aboard midway through our journey, might have understood the truth: that the real theme of this book is not madness, nor love, nor hatred, nor loss...though all of these have had their place.  The real theme of SHADE, THE CHANGING MAN is... Hair.  Hair styles, to be exact.  And though this might sound glib, it has a serious intent, for was it not Shakespeare who suggested that to comprehend the fashion of hair is to comprehend the world?  Though we have intertwined with this vital theme the story of Shade and Kathy (he: a man from another planet possessing at first the body of a psychopathic killer and finally, a madman, and she: a woman trying to overcome the trauma of seeing her parents slaughtered, battling against alcoholism and madness and eventually dying shortly after giving birth to Shade's child) and while we have included characters like Lenny, one-time lover of Kathy, and Pandora, one-time lovemaker with Shade, we have never been diverted from the real, follicular aim of this book: to use hair to examine and dissect these times in which we live, love, comb and die.  From the early mid-seventies blind barber pastiches of Chriss Bachalo, through to the orangtan floor mop look favored by Colleen Dorqan, our series has been a fearless investigation of the human hair condition.  Bryan Talbot amused us with his Thatched Cottage look, and then the divine Glyn Dillon paraded before us the quiff and sideburns which, it has been suggested, I occasionally sport myself.  Bachalo, of course, rewrote the map of human hair as Shade's rug grew, apparently by the second, until it finally resembled nothing less than a mutated Joshua tree, lifting its withered arm toward the empty sky.  I only point this out because as we pass number fifty and head onward into uncharted chort-back-and-sides, you are about to witness a new hairstyle, on that encapsulates the grieving Shade, deprived of Kathy and of hope, but I hope not of you, dear reader.  Because seriously, all joking apart, it has been a wonderful, sometimes frustrating and sometimes illuminating experience working on this book, and I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of you who continue to read and support it.  If I lost all of my hair tomorrow, you, my friends, would be my wig. -- Peter Milligan