3rd Dose? (10 More Random Opinions About Comics, With Added Random Anecdotes)

Well, we didn't get the news we wanted, but we also didn't get the news we dreaded. Things are going to be tough, but there's solid hope for the best possible outcome. I'm feeling pretty jittery and have spent the night playing app games and listening to old radio shows and petting Winky in-between naps. Hers, not mine. She has discovered the joy and wonder of wrapping paper today while downstairs, evading Nutmeg. Small pleasures, for human and cat. I'm going to occupy the rest of my time typing. I answered all outstanding patreon messages, which took a while. But less time than expected, because a few folks I didn't reply to had left the Patreon (or left Patreon). I hope my lack of a reply wasn't a tipping point, but at least I am caught up. A drawing/packaging and E-mail day tomorrow, if things work out.  And now, an unplanned post, because I'm feeling too wigged out to draw, too cold to clean, and too anxious to go to bed. So, here goes. Been meaning to do another one of these. 

Here you go:

1) I am a huge fan of Tezuka's cartooning and imagination, but the actual scripting in his stories can be awkward as all get out, especially the seismic tonal shifts into slapstick (sometimes they're fun, too often they're a mental check into the boards that knocks me out of a scene), the overall flat characterizations and some dives into mawkish speechifying. But like Kirby and Herge, Tezuka's singular style, vision and use of cartooning language gets me over the bumps. 

2) Alternately, I have to say that when Tezuka tries to be dead serious and all adult-like, he loses most of his charm entirely (much like how I feel about Will Eisner and The Spirit versus his "mature" works, for me weighed down by Yiddish theater dialog and melodramatics that would embarrass Lee J. Cobb even at his Lee J. Cobbiest). Ayako is the only Tezuka manga I got rid of and didn't regret tossing. it has a reputation as an unflinching look at Japan mores and society in post-war, defeated japan. I thought it was awkward trash nonsense after the build-up. Despite it's grasping for deep meaning (and Tezuka's need to be taken very seriously as more than just a children's author) it spills out cheap beach-read thrills and has a cast of vapid, unrealistic characters who get involved in a lot of bad behavior that stands for hard-hitting depiction of a culture in turmoil. Ayako herself is a blank, and the ending is memorable only for it's silliness. The translation doesn't help any, going for that off-putting American country bumpkin dialect that pollutes a lot of manga taking place in rural areas). 

I've bought back two of the four Tezuka books I got rid of some years back because I needed to make room for other books (Next World vol 1 and The Lost World). I'm still looking for affordable copies of Next World vol 2, and Metropolis. These are early, goofy, minor Tezuka comics, not very well printed and not a big deal unless you're a completist. I've got the completist gene. But I don't need Ayako back. Well...maybe for free.  When I have more space. I'm sad. 

2) Modern western superhero comics have probably never been so well-drawn, technically, than at any other time. But the overall lack of dynamism on display kills my interest in reading them (there's also the tail-swallowing continuity, myopic self-awareness, snail's pace plotting, and hyper-connected stories, but I'll stick to this one thought here). Few artists use any foreshortening, stretching of or exaggerating of the human figure in their work it seems, there's a precision and stiffness to Marvel and DC comics nowadays (and the like) that just leaves me colder than my fingers trying to unscrew my gas cap today with a 13 degree 'real-feel" wind outside). Art and coloring continues to look towards the choices made by major franchise films rather than comics and cartooning. To me it's mostly pretty pictures set alongside other pretty pictures, and I can look at those online and forget them pretty quickly because they look more like video game covers than what I like about comics. Like the title says, it's a personal opinion. it's why I generally don't care for painted or "realistic" superhero comics, I think they miss the point and work against the suspension of disbelief. Wrinkles and bulges in the costumes and obvious celebrity likenesses under the domino masks make me laugh, roll my eyes or cringe. It's beyond gilding the cartoon lily. My eyes register lifeless, photo referenced, deadening attempts to be more "realistic" -- more illustrative image-making, more architecturally-accurate digitally mapped locations, more movie-like effects and lighting. Fewer actual environments, encompassing worlds,  and living, breathing characters. To me, at least. I'm old, and I'm picky, I admit. But it all blurs, and a lot of it garbles the rich language of comics. Instead of breathing life into fantasy worlds, they laminate everything in perfect plastic. We've had slabbed comics, now we have slabbed interior art. And the comics done with popular movies in mind will never beat those movies at their game. Go off on that animated Spider-Man, if you have to look at the moving picture stuff, look at more animation. In general, I prefer a comic that breathes and moves and evokes life rather than one that mirrors or matches life. There are exceptions, sure. But most of my comics collection is stuff that leans into cartooning rather than portraying. 

3) Painted comics can be wonderful. There are no absolutes in comics. Except those Absolute DC editions, I guess. And shitty lettering. 

4) I still don't know how I feel about Gary Panter's comics. I can barely explain the weird attraction/repulsion there, the "I don't get it" of Monday, the "this is something else" of Wednesday, rinse and repeat endlessly, that the work sparks in my brain meat. When I worked in a comic shop in the 80's, I'd pull down the original Raw Jimbo edition with the cardboard covers and read it and frown a little and wonder a little and then I'd put it back on the high shelf where it sat for ages. I didn't like it all that much, I thought. Yet I'd pull it down a few weeks later, set it on the back issue bin across from it, and read it again. I thought about buying it more than once. One day, someone took it home. Man, I wish I bought that first edition of Jimbo. 

Side-anecdote. Back in the 80's I once had a miserable night where I got very, very drunk at the club I worked at and went home with someone who I knew slightly and didn't like as a person at all. It's not something I'm exactly proud of. I think it was New Year's Eve, in fact. Anyway, this person was home-sitting for someone in Manhattan, someone who had all the original oversized issues of Raw on their bookshelf. I wished I was somewhere else almost immediately, it was a soul-crushing experience for both of us. You probably know what I mean. But I was in no condition to drive home, and leaving the car meant coming back hours later to rescue it from the dreaded alternate side parking ticket. How I drove there from Staten Island, and somehow parked without bumper-crushing another car, all while under the influence of various and sundry alcoholic concoctions, is another thing I'm not exactly proud of. Anyway, I spent most of the night thinking about stealing those comics. I touched them in a manner more tenderly than anything else I made contact with that entire night. But I didn't steal the comics when I woke up and bailed out of there so quickly you'd have thought I had stolen something. I'd stolen comics before that, as a kid, on several occasions  -- something I'm, well...you know. But I didn't steal those. Man, I wish I stole those original first editions of raw! No, no. I'm kidding. Honest.  

5) I never finished reading Maus. Ain't that blasphemous? I couldn't get into it. Graphically I thought it was terrific. But I didn't like the writing much, especially the dialog. I thought a lot of things were heavy-handed and self-aware. I didn't like the way he worked out some of the animal stand-ins, especially the gentile Poles as pigs. I thought he was exploiting his father's story in a way that felt a little creepy.  And I always felt Maus got a great boost by things that were outside of the comic's components. Which is not a crime or a reason to not like a book, but I got into some heated arguments about Maus back in the day, once with someone at a party at Bob Fingerman's house where I think we both pushed things too far. It might have been an artist's girlfriend, or the artist, or both. I'm thinking maybe it was Bill Wray's girlfriend, but hell, that may be a false memory. That part, at least. I made things uncomfortable for everyone that night. Can't blame the alcohol, I won't go that route. But it was hard to not adore Maus back then, it was the artsy equivalent of not liking The Dark Knight Returns (which I did have a lot of problems with back then, to be honest) and if you said anything negative about it you got looked at like you ate puppies and/or ended up in a stupid argument that moved the goalposts like a hurricane. Once I got called anti-Semitic for criticizing the book (to which I burst out into one of my bar mitzvah passages I could still remember most of -- or maybe it was the blessing from Camp Louemma we had to say before we got to eat the mostly icky kosher food? Not that Jews can't be anti-Semitic, of course, especially if they grew up in a Jewish family. Ha ha ha, kidding! I'm actually talking to my entire family again after a ten-year estrangement, btw, if I may add a serious note to this very clumsy aside). 

I have to stop mentioning embarrassing past behavior here. At least for the time being. I'm better and nicer now. That's something to be proud of. Back to the comics.

6) Superheroes in costumes > superheroes in outfits. Especially tactical/military/Black Ops shit. Fuck that noise. 

7) I have it on good authority that at a con panel, someone brought up the idea of superhero comics without fight scenes. And Jack Kirby said something to the effect of, "Superheroes without fight scenes? That's like a guy without a (gesturing/nodding to imply) you-know-what." If I remember correctly, Kirby did not say this to the audience. He said it to the panelists in earshot, one of whom shared the story with me some years back. It's like Kirby didn't say it as a joke, rather it was a genuine, immediate response to the idea of "superhero comics without fight scenes". I love that. it's so Kirby. I also love the idea that -- again, if I am remembering this correctly -- Kirby would not say the word "penis", or use any of it's slang equivalents. Which also seems Kirby, at least in public. European comics critics might find interest in the fact that Kirby chose to respond with both words and visuals to convey his feelings (again, not in a vulgar way, mind you). I love this anecdote with the power of a thousand Hallmark cards. 

Anyway, yeah, sure, I think you can do superhero stuff without a fight scene (the opinion, of sorts, finally). You better be a talented, clever kid to pull it off in the long-term, I'd think. 

In that vein, did you know that the The Mundane Adventures of Dishman by John MaCleod is coming back into print? Black Eye Books (also revived from the dead to re-enter the comics fray) is collecting all the work done to date, from the 80's mini-comics to digital issues done a few years ago (who knew? Not me.) Go, look, as Tom Spurgeon would say in the Comics Reporter:

https://fundrazr.com/dishmanbook?ref=ab_5BKhfn7MLpF5BKhfn7MLpF

I've only read the early minis, so I can't say whether or not Dishman is a non-fighting superhero comic, or a superhero parody, or a slice-of-life with a guy dressed as a superhero, for all I know a fight scene breaks out here and there in the later comics. I don't know. I just decided to tell that Kirby anecdote and got all messed up. I'm really tired now.

Speaking of 80's comics, and revived Canadian comics entities, apparently David Boswell is making -- or has been making all this time --new Reid Fleming comics, and you can download a new issue or something somehow in some manner (I don't know the details because the site's a little hard to parse and I didn't read it all, because man, I'm typing too much here) but anyway, REID FLEMING #10 apparently is a real thing you can get! Go, look, and figure out for yourselves: 

http://www.reidfleming.com/downloads.html

8)  My opinion on Reid Fleming is that it's a wonderfully nuts and beautifully drawn comic that everyone should dip into at least once. Terrific cartooning that hearkens back to old-timey pen-and-ink newspaper strips/illustrations, not the same way Tony Millionaire's stuff looks but that sort of old-timey art with a new-timey sensibility and sense of humor. Self-timey is not a phrase, by the way, so don't use it. Also, the new-timey sensibility I'm referring to is from the 80's and 90's, so, then-timey? Don't use then-timey in conversation or blog posts, either. It's not worth the trouble. Shit, I'm tired. 

You get a lot of classic themes with Reid Fleming ("The World's Toughest Milkman"), drunk humor, job humor, romance/romantic triangle intrigue, slapstick violence, revenge. Then you have all the surreal stuff mixed in. My favorite bit might be The Dangers of Ivan, Fleming's favorite T.V. series. The character Ivan suffers and accident and lies in a coma for six years. He wakes up and immediately falls out of the window and dies, but returns as a skeleton to star in The Horrors of Ivan). Reid Fleming is a main character in Boswell's Heart Break Comics (starring "Great Slavic Lover" Lazlo), if you check out a single Fleming comic, this is the one. As funny and off-kilter as the early Fleming comics are (I can't vouch for the later work), Heart Break Comics is simply a terrific one-shot expanded funnybook. It is one of the niftiest sustained chunks of comic book nuttiness ever produced. The cartooning is arguably Boswell's strongest, and most intricate, his early-cinema/comics/surrealist influences are fully on display in architecture, settings and stylistic touches, it has the vibe of that early work a creative talent had more time and energy to expend on. It was a monster seller at our comic shop and the introduction to most folks back then to Boswell and Fleming. We all wore Reid Fleming t-shirts back then. I never consciously looked toward Reid Fleming as an influence/inspiration for Milk & Cheese, but his attitude, quips and tendencies towards physical violence must have gotten into my bloodstream and washed up on the page along with stuff like Steven, The Flaming Carrot, Neat Stuff, J.R. Williams "Bad Boys" and other comics I was into back in the 80's. If you like M&C you'll probably like this.  

If you're curious about Fleming, I guess start by checking out that link for Boswell's website, look at a few comics pages on a web search, see what you think. There's a big hardcover collection of the early stuff from IDW that came out a while back from IDW. There was never a second volume, unfortunately. The old back issues were reprinted multiple times and you can get most of them cheap on e-Bay, probably through online comic shops if not a hip local shop that's been around for some time. According to a quick check a copy of Heart Break Comics went for 99 cents on eBay recently. Heartbreaking.

9) Let's stay with the Canadian theme, and come back to Black Eye Comics and one of their stalwart creators, Jay Stephens. Jay is a friend of mine in comics, so I'm biased, but I became friendly with him back in the day because of how much I liked his work. I loved loved loved Sin #1, and I wrote Jay about buying a page of art featuring his then-signature character, Nod. I bought a page from him and he later told me I was the first person to ever purchase an original from him. I still have it, and one goddamned day I'm gonna frame that sucker. The thing is, if you look at Jay's earliest work, it's funny but crude as hell, and gives no indication of what an assured, polished, versatile cartoonist he'd become. One thing I guess I'm personally interested in is watching a cartoonist work hard to improve and hone their craft. I assume I'm keen on this because I was someone who started out with a very amateurish style, and I beat my crude art into shape over the years to where i consider it of professional quality. Whatever that actually means, because I am still hung up on thinking "professional" means slick, anatomically correct, technically sound etc. And yet I still think about that Jimbo book, which doesn't adhere to those descriptions. But that's another essay, one I can't write because I didn't go to "art school" art school, picking tidbits up from animation classes and an anatomy class (two?) at NYU. Anyway, there are several people who I'm contemporaries of, more or less, who have knocked me out with how they've matured and developed. 

One of them is Jay. He sat the fuck down and worked like a madman to study the craft of comics and of drawing and inking comics, in a way I never have. I've never had the patience to sit the fuck down and study much of anything. I blunder through and do something and the idea of a systemic approach never sets. I still don't know exactly what the hell is going to come out of my pencil or pen. it's infuriating, to not understand systems and approaches, knowing it's something achievable but scared of failing and too impatient to put in the time. I always wanted to draw and make comics now, not practice on them. It's worked but it's dopey. You end up with characters that can't be drawn in turnarounds, an inability to understand how to keep certain character design elements consistent (in a pragmatic way, not a vapor-locked way), how to break down the human or cartoon figure sensibly rather than always groping for the result with false starts and blackened erasers. 

If you want to see a really strong, generally straight line trajectory in a cartoonist's self-improvement, take a look at Jay's career. He started out making crude, scrappy, funny comics influenced by classic animation, comics and other nutty shit, he worked on this basic style while experimenting with different methods, tools and approaches, studying and practicing and looking at what inspired him and working on his ink line until it became a thing of beauty. Watching videos of him inking is inspirational, he has that harvey, Archie, classic cartooning line which he can apply to superhero styles, a great Toth impression (see World's Funnest), kid's characters, monsters, posters, designs, etc. This tighter, classic but still personal style of cartooning helped him break into animation (The Secret Saturdays, and Tutenstein and Jetcat, both from his Indy comics). After he found animation a creative dead end, he worked on magazine comics, did a newspaper strip, and eventually came back around to comics. He's currently doing new work through Black Eye through crowdfunding (his Harvey Comics-meets-modern horror movies series, Dwellings), as well as new collections of his old comics.  

Jay Stephens can be found here: https://linktr.ee/jaypopgun 

10) Another cartoonist that has knocked me out on their journey from then 'til now is Andi Watson. So many cartoonists seem to evolve the style they had at a young age into a slicker or technically improved version of that one, same style throughout their career. They perfect the approach towards superheroes, or punk rock, or themselves. Not many of us are curious or bold or intellectually curious enough to veer into new territory, or chip away at their early style until the essence or pure personality or whatever the fuck it is I'm trying to describe is left, picking up new techniques and approaches from new influences and life experiences. Andi's trajectory, like Jay's, is a self-directed one. He exemplifies the Toth approach of "less is more", breaking things down from earlier intricate, detail-heavy work to  essential lines and elements. You'd never have thought the cartoonist behind Samurai Jam and early Skeleton Key would have gone on to The Book Tour, and that includes the scripting and storytelling. Skeleton key is where you can see Andi's sensibilities and style go through a metamorphosis. Not many folks stuck with a single title to reach 30 issues, even at 16 pages, as Andi did at SLG. The covers alone show growth, decision and a growing boldness. Andi rejected his earlier dense detail, boiled down the character designs, the backgrounds, melding his anime influences with a European sensibility. he whittled for years until reaching a distinctly different art style. And his subjects changed from fantasy to more realistic life stories. This doesn't mean you have to "leave" genre behind, I don't think Andi ever completely has. And I'm not comparing styles or stories. I'm just saying it's worth looking at someone like Andi who has made his own way and done his own thing as much as possible and has worked hard to evolve his style, jettisoning some approaches and studying/honing others (like working on color, design elements, simplifying the drawing style, exploring and exchanging influences and ideas). It's not a template for a young cartoonist, but it's an example of how it can be done, and how we can reconsider our work and methods to achieve results that we're happier with. I wish I had the chutzpah to toss out more of the things in my work that don't jibe with what I'm trying to do. 

I think it's too late in the game for me, I'm an old Dorkin who is bad at learning anything, let alone new tricks. My situation has always been that I could either study and practice, or I could make the comics I was fortunate enough to be making. In the second half of my career, I've had to make comics to earn money, and taking time away from that was not something I could do. if you're young, that's a good time to keep your eyes, ears and mind open to possibility. It's not the only time, but it's when you usually have more time and energy, and you're not locked in to a too many things. It sounds mean and condescending, but the average mainstream comics creator aims at a style and overall approach and generally sticks with it in their career. Mainstream comics publishers and fans generally expects and demands consistency.  There are many "indy" cartoonists who push through life with one approach. It's not a terrible thing for either, what makes you happy and works is nothing to be sneezed at. 

But what if what you're doing isn't making you happy? What if you want to try something different, challenge yourself, incorporate that new thing you got into into your work? Fuck around and find out, in a good way. Like with art supplies, you don't have to use anything specifically, but you should experiment and find out what's out there, see what gets the results you want and see if it's satisfying to work that way. The same thing can be said about writing and drawing. 

Jesus fucking crime comics, I'm tired. I was going to write 20 of these as usual, but I realized this was turning into a bloated, malformed mess, so I decided on 10. f they're not exactly all opinions, so what. Enjoy, ignore, embrace, make the gagging gesture, all are valid. I think. 

Please excuse any typos, or utter nonsense, I can't go back and read/edit this, not even a half-assed run-through. Spur of the moment posts like this one are always the most treacherous. 

I have a headache and my neck and back are dead stiff. 

Winky the Pirate Cat is fast asleep and I should be, too.

So it's bed for me. Good night.

(Image above: Things have been a real mess, but I still need to get that third shot).