CSotD: A Second Wave Old Fart Caves In
Skip to commentsComixology and Andrews McMeel have announced a deal to publish Dilbert, Doonesbury and Big Nate books on a virtual platform, with more to come.

Comixology also sells DC and Marvel comics and graphic novels like "My Friend Dahmer" and all sorts of similar stuff that comics fans want.
In digital format.
I'm trying not to be an old fart about this, because (A) nobody likes being an Old Fart unless they're making a living at it and Andy Rooney is dead, and (B) I remember the Old Farts of bygone days, which I think makes me a Second Wave Old Fart.
I got my first personal computer in early 1984, a Texas Instruments Pro that didn't do much, but what it did, it did very well, and I immediately lost patience with the Old Farts who prattled on about the glories of writing on typewriters.
Their chief argument was that, with a typewriter, it slows you down and makes you really think about word choice. Which I'm sure is what people said about typewriters vs. pens. And a dip pen would slow you down even more than a fountain pen, and so now we know why the Epic of Gilgamesh remains the best-written book of all time.
When you have to scratch each letter into clay, it really forces you to choose your words wisely.
Only I have a feeling that Ur-Author was about two-thirds of the way through when he made the mistake of asking his wife to have a look and she said, "You named his buddy 'Enkidu'? 'Enkidu'? Some day, that's going to sound like a Jimmy Durante song!"
But he already had a stack of dried tablets sitting there upon which the guy was named "Enkidu" and so to hell with it.
Think about it: If clay tablets had a search-and-replace function, we might have been reading "The Epic of Gilgamesh and Buckshot" all these millennia.
Anyway, my objections to digital books have largely been based on similar resistance to change, and I'm working on it, in part because I think I need to get on board as an author/publisher and in part because I need to get on board as a reader.
It's not all Old Fartism. Some of it is conflating books and newspapers.
I object to the idea that you can buy a paperback for $12.99 or a digital copy of the book for $9.99 because I have this sense that printing and shipping add a lot more than three bucks to the cost of a book.
But that matters less in the case of books than in the case of newspapers, because a book still offers everything a book has ever offered, while newspapers are losing their competitive edge in that regard, ironically because they are shaving costs at the wrong end of production.
Newspapers no longer want to pay the people who create the content. As local newsrooms lay off reporters and editors, they start to lose their ability to offer quality, expert content you can't get anywhere else.
Plus they look to the Wall Street Journal as a model for making a paywall profitable without considering that nobody pays for a WSJ subscription out of pocket — that's all vouchered back to the Company. Heck, if I could voucher food, I'd be eating surf-and-turf every night.
But, while I'm not paying $150 a year to read articles about local bond issues written by some starter-salary newsroom newbie who has no idea how bonds work, or stories about global issues that I read 36 hours ago online, a ten dollar book is still a pretty good deal.
And I used to object to digital books on the basis of permanence, until I found out that, in most cases, you're not buying a "real" copy. The book you bought is still up there, so that, if your computer fries itself, you can recover your library.
Assuming the people you bought it from still exist. And assuming they don't start letting their authors go all George Lucas on us and retcon everything.
And you can read digital comics on the toilet. God knows, if you can text on the toilet and hold phone conversations on the toilet, you can certainly sit there reading. You can even put your Kindle-Nook-Kobo-iPad in a Zip-Lock bag and read in the bathtub if that is your wont.
Which leaves one quibble: Those stupid phones, and the overall "gotta get smaller" direction of technology.
A few years ago, I went to a convention in Chicago, and, after it broke up, we found ourselves with a few hours to kill before our train back to the coast. And there was the Chicago Art Institute, so in we went, and found ourselves wishing we were stuck in Chi-town a little longer, because you can't begin to see that place in a few hours.
It was one "Oh, I know that one!" after another, but, in particular, I was struck by Gustave Caillebotte's "Paris Street: Rainy Day."

Yeah, "I know that one." What I didn't know is that the damn thing is 7 x 9.
Feet.
And it's not just enormous for the sake of enormous. It's so that each of those cobblestones can be a painting of a wet cobblestone.
I was blown away.
Now, with all due respect, I don't think I've ever seen a Dilbert, Doonesbury or Big Nate strip that needed that sort of scope so that we could pick out the exquisite detail.
But I retain the right to feel that they deserve more than a phone screen.
The Old Fart may just be being an old fart, but the Comics Fan is right.
And, by the way, if you're determined be an Old Fart, find a classy way to pull it off:
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