Do Not Siege Walled Cities - 263
An Unintentionally Negative One!
LEAVING ON A JET PLANE
Alright, so I’m behind and I’m hurried and harried. I picked up a little work this week and it displaced my usual newsletter writing time. But we’re making up for it with a speed round, 10min-read of power.
First, let me thank everyone who came to the signings at Forbidden Planet and Third Eye Comics this past week. Really kind group of people with an interesting selection of books for me to sign. Thank you again. I don’t do those very much, but maybe I’ll make it at least a little more frequent.
I head to Europe tomorrow and will be playing a number of festivals that are a bit too metal-leaning for my band to fit comfortably. But that’s part of the fun and I’m grateful to be able to do it. See you soon, Clisson, France!
THE SHYAMALAN OF HOT TAKES
An artist (primarily, or maybe wholly, a cover artist) was accused (really, caught, so far as any person with eyes can tell) of using AI in his work on a SUPERMAN cover.
The giveaway is the additional bottom curve to the ‘S.’ Artists make mistakes all the time, and many more when they composite from multiple images in Photoshop. But it would take a particularly exhausted artist to digitally paint a second bottom half to the S on Superman’s chest. Hence, everyone calling it an AI creation. [Though, I should note, the correct spelling of PRESS on the floating press pass on Lois’ jacket is a powerful counter-argument to it being AI. For whatever reason, computers can’t spell.]
Artists broke out the pitchforks. The Twitteratti broke out the torches. And this man’s career looked pretty much done. But who is to say? Both the Big Two have employed artists REVILED by every other artist on the planet, and stay hiring them. So, ‘done’ is likely not done done.
There was the typical moralizing, intellectualizing, and catastrophizing about the whole affair. Very few real insights. Though I did find this one by a former(?) DC artist interesting:
This feels true to me. I worry that we’re in full “you know, I get it, but I’ve got a family to feed” mode from editors and when the orders come down the line to cut the humanity from comics, nobody in the offices will protest.
But all this is beside the point, for me. I wanted to offer an ALTERNATIVE HOT TAKE. And that is:
AI isn’t the offending agent here. That whole style of art just sucks balls.
Hear me out.
When the artist who utilized AI was getting murdered online, I had every instinct to defend him. Not his transgression, which I think necessitates termination. But him, the human being. Because having a thousand people kick your back in online can break a person. And I don’t see what he’s done as requiring brutality on my end or anyone else’s.
But then I saw his art. And it became much more difficult to be his advocate. Because the style he works in is ass. I saw a ton of goobers defending it, and it seems he has legitimate fans [also heard from someone who would know that his covers do actually sell]. But I wonder if any of them read comics. Or if they merely collect covers like trading cards. Because that hideous no-swag Artstation style video game concept art bullshit is not comics.
Digital painting already sucks. Digital boardwalk airbrush style painting extra sucks. And one step beyond that is this rizzless garbage. It’s lifeless and typically the province of people who cannot draw a sequential art page to save their lives. It’s for people who like costumes, not comics.
AI will become a cheat, then a tool, and eventually a fact of life for many artists. “I just use it to get layout ideas” is the gateway. I promise you in 5 years not every artist will use AI, but every artist will have an artist friend who uses it.
I don’t know what to do about that.
But I do know that comics SHOULD be the last to be hit by AI. And if we’re not, it’s because we let actual Photoshop/Blender/AI slop into our medium.
I am repelled by gatekeeping. I am a professional singer who cannot sing. If there were standards being applied to me, I would be homeless. But I believe some things are just garbage by any measure and the gatekeeping should come in the form of an informed market.
I was angry at Western Australia when I couldn’t get in during covid. But my feelings aside- they definitely didn’t get sick over there. So maybe close the doors. Let’s not get sick. Stop letting this concept art passing as comics in. It appeals to the lowest-information reader and aspiring flipper. And, again, it has no mojo. Zero style. And that’s a crime. Mortal Kombat was bad for comics. Bland is a crime.
[Advanced Warning: Don’t hit me with that defensive ‘art is subjective’ nonsense. This isn’t college. Some things are crap.]
QUICK COMIC NEWS
Sorry, I’ve landed in Belgium and am racing around. So here’s some quick, undercooked nuggets.
IDW editorial shakeup. Not sure what to say here. I only know Jamie Rich, who just stepped down as editor-in-chief. I like Jamie and wish him luck wherever he lands. As for IDW… dunno, man. I hate when people want this company to fail. Some have made it their chosen canary in the coal mine for comics’ market collapse, and get excited when they think it will finally die. I don’t see it as that, and I am not excited for that to happen. So wishing failure on the company is just weird. Best of luck to IDW navigating this transition.
In other news, there’s a new Image initiative. This one focused on minority creators. I found the conceit compelling in that it’s supposed to be work that could not justify its existence without the background of the creators. Ok. Not to be a dick, but I would love to see it. My chief problem with comics that sell themselves as coming from underrepresented minorities is they read like anyone could’ve written them. And maybe someone who got forwarded this newsletter is clutching a single pearl to see me say that, but c’mon. Everyone knows that to be true. There’s so little work on the shelves that has anything but superficial markers of culture. Stuff people could glean from Wikipedia.
Creator-owned comics are, sadly, often short-stories in 2024. And we don’t get a ton of opportunity to fill books with the type of details we would fill 50 issues with. So we rely on cues and tropes and various types of shorthand. But food and “mi abuela” and “the white guy at the lumber yard with a Confederate Flag bumper sticker says he doesn’t want me in his neighborhood” is TOO short a shorthand. It doesn’t land with the intended demographic, and doesn’t land with lily-white readers like me who would love to see something we’re not as familiar with. It doesn’t land because it’s facile and withholding.
So, this is all to say, if this initiative succeeds in bringing a legitimately ‘lived’ feel to a comic, I’ll be happy to see it. Best of luck to all involved.
In other news, Marvel and DC are changing creative teams on some books. Used to be I would ask friends at those companies what it means. But I don’t care. It always means the same thing: gearing up for a line-wide publishing initiative where creators everyone is tired of shift from one title to another in an endless game of musical chairs. The only guys left without a chair when the music stops are ones who have either caused SO much trouble they’re unhireable OR the ones who created so LITTLE trouble that nobody remembers their names. Best of luck. Do something different.
Here’s my Spider-Man pitch, ready? Spider-Man is depressed because he fights the same six dudes on a monthly basis like they’re human period cramps. So he starts running with a 24-year-old bartender named Mani. Manic Mani they call her. Some caller Maniac Mani. Anyway, she gets the depressed Peter Parker strung out on party drugs and a lifestyle he can’t keep up with. He’s high on molly buying his young girlfriend a new model Bronco he can’t afford payments on. He’s got a five o’clock shadow and he needs to get tested for VD. Then a child dies because he was too slow because he’s 15lbs overweight and yo-yoing on uppers and liquor. This shocks him into sobriety, but it sends him down a that path Rosie from The Jetsons was on when she ate the bad lugnut. “A place for everything, and everything in its place.” He stops all crime in the city of New York, but at the cost of his mental wellbeing. He must be constantly vigilant and it’s grinding him into nothing. And instead of milking that familiar trope with a corny battle where he breaks down and has to be held by Curt Conners or some shit, in this pitch Mary Jane comes back and says, “I’m tired of dating former college athletes who own car dealerships. Can we just have a baby?” And boom, we have our next major arc. And then we can bring Manic Mani back as a villain at some point, because nobody can just have normal friends or lovers.
MEDIA CONSUMPTION
Caught the Frank Miller documentary. It was nice to see the other comic professionals celebrate Miller, but I didn’t care for so much Jessica Alba as pleasant a person as she may be. The movie was well made but had a distinct ‘with the subject’s approval’ feel. I don’t need 40min on HOLY TERROR. But I also don’t care to see it handwaved away by Miller with a sad face. I actually hated that bit. For HOLY TERROR and some affiliation with Breitbart, the camera holds on Miller as he says the things you must say, with the sincere face you must have on when you say them. And that’s fine if he was running for office. But I love the artist. The man was clearly in a state, I would allow for use of the word deranged, when these things were going on. And it is painful to look back on a time you were acting outside your dharma. But that’s the purpose of a good documentary. Felt like this one fumbled that aspect.
Watched the John Woo film Silent Night on the plane. A ‘minor work’ in the same way Fincher’s The Killer was a minor work. Which is to say, a likeable but ultimately lightweight thing that demonstrates all the skills and confidence a veteran director has earned over decades of moviemaking. And that’s fine by me. It was fun and the premise was stupid without insulting me. Enjoyed it.
I read Kyle Baker’s DEATHCATHOLON: BOOK 1: THEY JUST WANTED IT MORE. And, boy, are the proper cartoonists in my readership not gonna like what I have to say next. Artists, get yourself a writer partner. Respectfully to the departed, ignore that Cartoonist Kayfabe bullshit about a bad work from a single voice having more worth than a collaborative effort. The premise is right. There are very few movies as brilliant as comics, because every body you add to the pool comes with an increased risk of urine. But there is a happy medium. Which is a team that works. And it beats the living shit outta “I thought it was a funny gag, so I devoted months of drawing to it.” Which is where the VERY talented Kyle Baker has arrived with this work. This is Amazon print-on-demand and the quality of the paper is bad, but I’d be interested to see it with color. Perhaps there’s a use for it. Back to the work. It’s awesome. Baker is awesome. Maybe one of our best cartoonists. But this work feels frivolous. And while I just praised a movie I consider ‘lightweight’ please believe there is a big difference between lightweight and “ok, but could this time have been better spent on a meaningful project?” Once you hit that space, it’s time to reconsider your course. Drawing is labor and puts real wear on the body. Drawing for the joy of it is cool. But at some point the question should at least creep into your mind, “do I want to do something that lasts before old age takes it all away from me?” Anyway, Baker has a number of these projects on Amazon and I’m supportive of him trying a different avenue than comic shops, so I’m gonna buy them all. And I think for people who don’t need to read the comics they read, this is a really pretty option. So I give it that qualified recommendation.
ALRIGHT ALRIGHT
Enough. I play a metal festival in a few hours despite not being in a metal band. Wish me luck winning over European heshers at three in the afternoon. Best of luck to you this week. Get something done. Do for self.
At least part of that illustre appears to be AI but in this instance it’s irrelevant. I’m with you, that art is flat as fuck