The Batlord Gets Baked and Muses on the Gender Politics of Afterlife with Archie

Full disclosure: I am not currently high, but I was when I read this.
For those of you rolling your eyes at the idea of Archie comics in general -- I myself have never read any before this, and have no burning need to start now --
Afterlife with Archie is worlds away from the original: G-rated high school hijinks are replaced by more realistic, PG-13, teenage melodrama, until the town of Riverdale is engulfed by a full-blown zombie apocalypse, and petty high school relationships become something more compelling and desperate as the children are forced to become adults within a matter of days. Not to mention the R-rated zombie violence. To illustrate my point I'll post this page from issue #4, where Archie must defend his mother from his zombified father...
But anyway, onto the reason for this entry.
Afterlife with Archie is amazing all by itself, but it's just a trip when I'm high. Even while sober, I'm always aware of the old world, sexist, Archie comics tropes (most obviously, two women "BFFs" sniping at, and backstabbing each other over a guy), but I can kind of keep that in the back of my mind due to the strengths of the title (Seriously, possibly the best comic going ATM). When I'm high, however, it's now so in I'm face that, while I'm comforted by the (initial) atmosphere of (deceptively) "simpler times", I'm also uncomfortable every time some modern cultural faux pas is made.
But the title is so mature and modernized -- with the Archie status quo thrown for so big a loop -- that a few pages after a Betty/Veronica spat that makes me wince, they then hit me with a plot point that calls those same themes into question, which always keeps me on my toes as to what the writer is getting at:
Is he to a limited extent aware of the anachronisms, and choosing to challenge them, all the while being ignorant of the cognitive dissonance of glorifying the more outdated elements of the basic nature of the universe.
Or is he completely
genre savvy, and using the seeming ambivalence to celebrate a genuinely rich world, while at the same time confronting its flaws? And if so, is he using subtlety for a less preachy contrast, or just toning down his more confrontational points about the comic's core values so as not to offend legit Archie fans? (I'm inclined to go with some form of this option, due to the conscious effort on the part of the writer to subvert just about everything about the Archie universe.)
For example, as a counterpoint to the charmingly misogynist undertones of the Betty/Veronica rivalry, two lesbian characters are carrying on an affair "on the down low", and the merkin boyfriend of one of the women calls her "baby" upon their reunion; incensed by this, the other woman -- who wants to go public with the relationship, as opposed to her partner -- confronts him.
Add on subplots and themes concerning incest, homophobia, the obligatory exploration of the nature of man, etc, and you have a comic book whose basic nature is on the surface at odds with itself, while being made all the more intriguing for these contradictions.
How a company whose entire existence is dependent upon preserving an outdated, fun house mirror image of the world, had the artistic cojones to so abandon that concept (albeit for an AU title) is pretty awesome as far as I'm concerned. I tried getting into
The Walking Dead comic book, but found the character drama to be rather dull, while the surreal teen drama of
Afterlife with Archie is completely engrossing. This is actually the second time I've powered my way through the entire eight issues of the series, which is something I generally don't do.
So yeah:
Afterlife with Archie >
The Walking Dead
That is all. You may go about your business.