On the first page of this comic there's a declaration of contents:

Dishes:     Humanist Gazette of Dots & Scratching
Dishes:     "Art" project with no deadline of grade
Dishes:     Fashionably late adolescence
Dishes:     An apologetic insert in every overdue letter
Dishes:     A way of cleaning out my room (in preparation for moving house) of scraps of paper of ideas and half-ideas. Printed extra small because that's all it deserves. Magnifying Glass not included.
"Is it a comic is it a zine or something that's in between"

There you go - thoughtful, erudite & ultimately self deprecating; very British. Get the immolation in before the critics get to you.
So, as you'd gather this, is a little bit of a hodge-podge: little ideas firing off & sometimes sparkling, & sometimes sort of fizzling out & not really doing much at all. Overall though, it has charm: something which I value deeply.
Ian is a talented artist. I recall Dishes #3 fondly with it's artistic (if messy) flair & ambition. The flair is still evident in parts here, but in the diminished size restrictions of this booklet it has little room to really flow. The Monsters in the Cupboard strip is the worst afflicted by the confines & it's sort of difficult to see what's happening in a couple of panels, but a little extra thought makes it work out (or is it my rationalisation of ambiguity).
Because of the sporadic nature of the comic and the format it's not something that you can really demand great intellectual prowess from. However, there are some thoughtful strips, like Georgio - Historian In The Information Age which also, like others shares the theme of disaffection with mainstream culture.
This flip flopping from insightful & throwaway moments gives the comic a kind of conversation feel: like a slightly inebriated chat down the pub with an good friend; it has that kind of ingratiating intimacy.
mooncat