Crawl into bed with the new McSweeney’s and spend the next six or seven hours reading comics, essays about comics, and more comics. I’m all aflutter about the dust jacket alone — an entire two-page fold-out spread where Chris Ware takes over the funny pages of my local newspaper. It makes me salivate. I saw a woman get on the T today at Harvard Square, pull the same dust jacket out, unfold it reverently, and stand reading it. She also had nifty buttons on her canvas satchel, including two Television Without Pity Tubey ones. If I weren’t so shy and Midwestern and afraid of disturbing a stranger’s privacy, I might have pulled out my (still shrink-wrapped) copy and grinned at her.