CSotD: Purely Personal
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"It's like you're looking through our windows" is a comment that cartoonists who specialize in family and relationship comics often hear from readers. It isn't a cliche, but rather a sign that they're hitting the target.
Comics that connect on a personal level are particularly welcome in the midst of a political crisis when it all becomes wearisome, and today I'm taking a break from deep thought for comics that hit me on a personal level rather than touching off some great societal ponderings.
But I'll ease you into it with this one, which touches both bases …
I'm of two minds on the topic of "forced diversity," but in full agreement with Richard John Marcej on the topic of the futility of arguing with nitwits.
I would rather see new characters introduced than see established characters change race, sex or both, though I'd make an exception for inherited mantles like Dr. Who or the Phantom.
Now, yes, the Phantom has been literally inherited and Rex is waiting in the wings, but it wouldn't take much of a plot twist to have Rex decide he'd rather hang onto his throne and for the current Phantom to pass the title on to one of the locals, male or female.
Meanwhile, the kerfuffle over the Doctor's latest incarnation is simply stupid. Change is inherent in the series.
I do feel deciding established characters are not who you said they were seems lazy, even in a business that generally peddles established product in place of fresh concepts and thinks of "art" in graphic, not philosophical, terms.
Granted, people don't want New Coke, they want their old familiar Coke, and if you want to introduce a new product, you risk failure, but I remember when Mountain Dew was a new product. They've done pretty well with the same demographic comics aim for.
None of which has much to do with the futility of arguing with trolls and knuckleheads. Or of commenting at all on anything that has more than a dozen responses and expecting to be heard.
I note that Baltimore's City Paper has gone out of business, long after its prized wise-ass column put targets for trolls on the strips that ran in the Sun.
You can still find people who consider themselves witty trolling those strips, many of which have changed artists and writers and been completely reborn since they were first singled out for hipster/lemming abuse.
This is turning into a rant, and I have one lined up for how you can't love "Animal House" and yet denounce GamerGate and other evidence of sexist, racist bullying.
Stay tuned while I stay light.
Reply All reminded me of all the really cool clothes I had over the years, but then it occurred to me that it would take an expanding closet to hold them for future use.
No, not a closet whose capacity increases. A closet in which the clothing itself expands.
Staying light in mood is easier than doing so literally.
And speaking of my younger years, Scott Stantis has been rerunning Prickly City strips from 2005 in which Winslow was wooing a tortoise, and today's reminded me of a date I had in college with a striking countercultury blonde with hoop earrings, a paisley kerchief and fringey leather jacket, and we got to the local coffeehouse just as it was opening.
So we ended up standing around talking with the proprietor, a campus celebrity of noted charm, who ostentatiously handed her a carnation and then turned his attention entirely to our (his and my) conversation. However, I soon noticed that he seemed distracted, and turned to realize that the young lady being ignored had begun to pick the petals off the flower and eat them.
It was a far better response than trying to force her way into the conversation.
She was one of the coolest people I ever went out with.
Pajama Diaries has been pinging more recent memories, as Amy begins her college search and her senior year in high school, both of which feel very familiar.
I will say, though, that the boys didn't touch me up for money once they had cars and jobs. Their allowances continued, and they had rarely touched me up for supplemental funds even before they were working, but certainly not after, which I think was a combination of their pride and their knowledge that I was about as broke as they were.
What I particularly remember about their senior years was getting up on a winter morning and finding three feet of snow in the driveway and a young man out there with the shovel because his car was buried right next to mine.
Sigh. Just about the time they become worth having around, they leave.
And Lio reminds me that the Perseid showers are next weekend, which in turn reminds me that I may not be battling city lights, since that's also when my high school holds its annual reunion deep in the Adirondacks.
I'm only day-hopping the trip, but I'll still be on the road and in the woods by dark, and I may have to pull over and enjoy the show for a bit.
The Book Nook
Mike Beede emailed to point out this charity fundraiser by HumbleBundle, in which you can pay what you want, with some very low minimums, and the proceeds go to charity while access to $395 worth of some pretty outstanding Fantagraphics comics goes to you.
I'd suggest that you pay more than the minimum and less than the retail price, and watch the calendar because the promotion doesn't last forever.
And, finally amidst this personal commentary, here's the best autograph I've ever scored.
My mother and younger son conspired to have Al Franken, who was out selling his new book, sign a blurb from a review I wrote for "Rush Limbaugh is a Big Fat Idiot" back in 1996, which was used in the paperback edition.
Très cool, eh?
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