Goodbye begins by parodying a myth from Plato’s The Symposium. It’s the one where humans originally had four arms and legs and two faces. Zeus, in his infinite wisdom, feared man’s power so he split them in half. And, lo and behold, we all now must seek out our other half so as to feel complete. That’s love, folks. But then the scene ends with a character stating, “No, that doesn’t make me feel better about group sex,” revealing Passmore’s incisive sense of humor. Passmore explores loneliness and inner turmoil through wavy black lines that resemble Brandon Graham’s art. There’s a beauty to the simplistic narrative, but I couldn’t tell you what Goodbye is really about because its ambiguity is what draws you in; it’s what has made me reread it three or four times. Maybe it’s a political piece (it does end with a circle A comprised of people kissin’ and cuddlin’). Or it’s deeply personal: an allegory about death and caving in to societal expectations. In the end, what matters is what you make of it, and Passmore provides a lot of food for thought. (Silver Sprocket Bicycle Club, 1057 Valencia St., SF, CA 94110, silversprocket.net)