It's getting on toward the end of July, now, and the frantic Muppet-arm-flailing madness of the last few months has begun to dampen down a bit. The dust finally settled on my job at Capital Prime, and I'm a pantry cook now, which is nice because I don't go home with water in my shoes any more. Having settled in, I've looked around and realized it's not a terrible place to work; I'm thinking about moving up from pantry to line, if the opportunity comes, so I'll have Cooking to add to my list of skills. All in all it's a good place to work, and I can hang in there and make money.
For now.
Of course the frustration of not attaining some much-vaunted art job threw off its own gravitational waves in the Rick-mindverse, like the roars of a Cepheid Variable before it dims to a cinder. The thing will undoubtedly flare up again, but for now it lies cool and sullen, slowly rebuilding its collapsed nuclear infrastructure. And because that energy just doesn't disappear, I channeled that frustrated energy into an inward drive. In other words, I started getting philosophical.
To wit: what is this "comics" that we speak of? What does it mean, and where is it going?
I'm not speaking in a scholarly sense, but in an artistic sense, and by extension a personal sense. Comics in modern America, while gaining intellectual and artistic ground, is still not considered an artform per se, but merely a commodity vehicle.
Marvel/Disney-DC (which are essentially all the same thing) don't really have faith in their comic book titles anymore, to judge from the fractalization of their products, the mishmashes and breathless crossovers, cheap gender-swaps and tokenism. While the money-grab was part of American comics from its inception as money-laundering operations for New York gangsters, the present sell-out is even more blatant for its pretense at diversity and diversification, for cashing in on the commodity triumph of empty nerdism.
Are independent and alternative comics any better off? The best of these comic book artists - even Chris Ware, my personal favorite - are whisked off by the art world, away from the Spandex Ghetto, to live on high in the pink clouds, where they live on nothing but Champagne and fondue. The rest of the hoi polloi flounder about, besotted with visions of capes and masks, or craft cutesy narratives out of their parents' money, or sit around gazing wretchedly at the blue fluff peeking out of their navels. It's not the content of their comics that enrages me, but the way that - let's be honest - even the creators of comics don't really take the medium seriously, to convey the human condition with all its nuance and complication.
Does this make me a comics snob? Yes it does. But I'm not trying to say, "All comics need to be deep and artistic"; rather, comics needs balance. I believe that every medium needs its fluffy side as well as its superheavy side: for every Harlequin Romance there must be a Dostoyevsky; for every Angry Birds movie there has to be a Schindler's List. The problem is that comics lists heavily to the fluffy side. How does the old joke go - "What's heavier? A ton of feathers, or a ton of lead?" A ton of feathers, badly-balanced, can still sink a boat.
Others have made my point much better: Scott McCloud, Will Eisner, hell - even Charles Schulz, if you want to expand the tent to include newspaper strips (which weirdly get a lot more respect than comic books). Mostly I'm just trying to figure out this thing for myself. I made a little ashcan comic called "New Vision Comix #1", in which I ramblingly try to set out my manifesto, my "New Vision" for the medium. I don't think I'll necessarily be the one to achieve it or even kickstart it; it's just that I have to speak out, or I'll burst. This artform, this storytelling medium, is worth living for - just as writers give their life to literature, or painters give their life to art. It's time that we, as comics creators and enthusiasts, start acting like real, powerful artists instead of just hobbyists or dabblers.
Enough diatribe. All this thinking, there's smoke comin out my ears...what else have I been up to, comics-wise?
For now.
Of course the frustration of not attaining some much-vaunted art job threw off its own gravitational waves in the Rick-mindverse, like the roars of a Cepheid Variable before it dims to a cinder. The thing will undoubtedly flare up again, but for now it lies cool and sullen, slowly rebuilding its collapsed nuclear infrastructure. And because that energy just doesn't disappear, I channeled that frustrated energy into an inward drive. In other words, I started getting philosophical.
To wit: what is this "comics" that we speak of? What does it mean, and where is it going?
I'm not speaking in a scholarly sense, but in an artistic sense, and by extension a personal sense. Comics in modern America, while gaining intellectual and artistic ground, is still not considered an artform per se, but merely a commodity vehicle.
Marvel/Disney-DC (which are essentially all the same thing) don't really have faith in their comic book titles anymore, to judge from the fractalization of their products, the mishmashes and breathless crossovers, cheap gender-swaps and tokenism. While the money-grab was part of American comics from its inception as money-laundering operations for New York gangsters, the present sell-out is even more blatant for its pretense at diversity and diversification, for cashing in on the commodity triumph of empty nerdism.
Are independent and alternative comics any better off? The best of these comic book artists - even Chris Ware, my personal favorite - are whisked off by the art world, away from the Spandex Ghetto, to live on high in the pink clouds, where they live on nothing but Champagne and fondue. The rest of the hoi polloi flounder about, besotted with visions of capes and masks, or craft cutesy narratives out of their parents' money, or sit around gazing wretchedly at the blue fluff peeking out of their navels. It's not the content of their comics that enrages me, but the way that - let's be honest - even the creators of comics don't really take the medium seriously, to convey the human condition with all its nuance and complication.
Does this make me a comics snob? Yes it does. But I'm not trying to say, "All comics need to be deep and artistic"; rather, comics needs balance. I believe that every medium needs its fluffy side as well as its superheavy side: for every Harlequin Romance there must be a Dostoyevsky; for every Angry Birds movie there has to be a Schindler's List. The problem is that comics lists heavily to the fluffy side. How does the old joke go - "What's heavier? A ton of feathers, or a ton of lead?" A ton of feathers, badly-balanced, can still sink a boat.
Others have made my point much better: Scott McCloud, Will Eisner, hell - even Charles Schulz, if you want to expand the tent to include newspaper strips (which weirdly get a lot more respect than comic books). Mostly I'm just trying to figure out this thing for myself. I made a little ashcan comic called "New Vision Comix #1", in which I ramblingly try to set out my manifesto, my "New Vision" for the medium. I don't think I'll necessarily be the one to achieve it or even kickstart it; it's just that I have to speak out, or I'll burst. This artform, this storytelling medium, is worth living for - just as writers give their life to literature, or painters give their life to art. It's time that we, as comics creators and enthusiasts, start acting like real, powerful artists instead of just hobbyists or dabblers.
Enough diatribe. All this thinking, there's smoke comin out my ears...what else have I been up to, comics-wise?
- I'm still working for Geek-o-Rama; I'm sending our fearless leader, Katrina Roets, the rest of my The Human Cannonball issues so she can review them. Kat is awesome, and I welcome every criticism, no matter how sharp...and damning...I'm sure it'll be fine! Ahem...
- Blind Alley Comics is heading to Columbus for the Comics Underground Distribution (CUD) Convention...see Facebook for more details...
- The Strange Adventures of Bone Boy #4 is out, with #5 hot on its heels...
- The Human Cannonball #7 will be coming out in August or September...
- Die Kätze #2 is coming out in December...
- Tales to Befuddle #1 has evolved into a comics anthology, featuring (we hope) Erik Scripter (Chicago, IL), Kurt Spastriano (Juneau, AK), Anella Brandon (Lansing, MI), and Joe and myself. An interstate effort!
- Louie, Kid Prodigy #1 Parts 1-3 will soon be available, with Parts 4-6 coming within the year...
There's a lot more to talk about, but I've got to get going, so I'll see y'all down in Columbus! You'd better be there...
Rick Out.
Comments