Sunday, September 14, 2008

HOW DOES AN ARTIST KNOW WHEN HE'S IN DECLINE?



I thought I'd talk some more about the difference between an artist at the top of his game, and one who's in decline. Obviously everybody winds down with time, that's nothing to be ashamed of, but I thought if we could isolate what that decline consists of, we might be able to take some steps to slow it down in our own work.

In my opinion an artist at the peak of his form is more likely to be aware of how weird the world around us is. He'll do a gag about sleeping but for him the real gag is that we sleep at all, and how strange the idea of sleeping is. Think about it! For a third of every day we lie flat as a board under a cloth which might have obsessive patterns on it, all the time happily clutching a pillow or a teddy bear. That's truly funny...all the more so because it's real.

In the example above (click to enlarge), it seems like the artist is also mocking the idea of bedrooms. When you think about it, it is kind of funny that we set aside a whole room to sleep in, and that we decorate it so differently than we do the rest of the house. Catch the low, ignorantly-executed window, and the way Mutt looks bunched up on the extreme edge of the bed. Those red spots are hilarious, as are the fez and the gloves!

There's also something funny about the minimal staging: a pleasantly unconscious horizontal friend, a low ceiling, a dopey chair, a low window, another planet outside the window (the Moon), a bed covered with obsessive dots, and Jeff standing in the middle, unaware that he's become part of the weird, awkward composition. Sheer bliss! It's all so delightfully strange and uniquely realistic at the same time!



Now look at this (above) more modern example, presumably done by an artist in decline. Once again the gag is about sleeping, but there's no sign that the artist sees sleeping as an outrageous activity. The artist has made his piece with the act of sleeping, it's perfectly normal for him! How sad! And there are other missed opportunities! The fact that it all plays out in a yard, and what a yard is, might have been a kind of visual gag if it had been handled right.

Maybe the problems like this come about because the artist sees the writer as the star, and thinks of himself only as an illustrator at the writer's service. Big mistake! The comic strip is an artist's medium, and in an artist's medium the primary satisfaction should come from the art, not the writing.

Saturday, September 13, 2008

A TERRIFIC PHOTOGRAPHER...BUT WHO IS HE?



I just had the weirdest experience! I just spent hours writing what I thought would be my best blog post ever. I was so proud of it that I was going to let it stay up all weekend so readers would have time to re-read it over and over again, and reflect on it. I imagined dads reading it to their kids and the kids being forever changed by it and growing up to be President and all that. I bit my lip the whole time I was writing. Anyway, when it was almost finished, I came to a depressing realization. I just couldn't bear to give it away for free.

I'm determined that, even if it's objectively bad, and even if I only get paid in back issues of some obscure magazine, that I'm going to sell this thing. I've gotta do it, just to say that I did it.

So that leaves me with an unexpected space to fill, and I'm too sleepy to think. Fortunately I have something really neat to share, and here it is...four of the best photos that I've seen lately. The only problem is that I can't remember who did them or even how I discovered them. I hope you like them. I'm not sure if they're even enlargeable.










Wednesday, September 10, 2008

I'M SLOWLY GETTING BETTER!


Wow! I got some great convalescence presents! John gave me Leslie Carbaga's new Hot Stuff collection, and a neat anthology of "Tales of Suspense." Comics are the perfect thing to read when you're all doped up and drooling on yourself like I was. The problem is that stories like "Goom" made me laugh so much that I thought my staples would pop out. Mike gave me one of the very best Al Capp ads from the old Life magazine and some Smoking Loon Cabernet. I'll have to defer drinking that til I can take alcohol, but cabernet's my favorite wine, and the label is a stunner.

But that's not all! Check out this great video get well card (above) that Jim Arnold sent me. He made it just for me; I feel so flattered! It's the perfect gift for one filmmaker to give another...the gift of film.

By the way, I'm getting better and better, though I'm still flat on my back and experiencing problems most of the day. I may get the staples out on Friday. Today I actually had real creative thoughts, just like real people have. I was deliriously happy to have my mind working again. The house is a mess and there'll be a lot to clean up when this is over.

If I'm up to it, I may bring a sketchbook to the hospital with me and do caricatures of some of the patients on the floor where I used to be. I want to draw adults rather than kids, even though kids are a better audience. Kids are always getting clowns and movie stars and presents when they're in the hospital. They don't need me as much as the poor, neglected adults who just have to lie there and languish in daytime TV hell.

I have a much more benign view of the hospital nursing staff than I did when I wrote my blog about the hospital. Now that I can think again I can see the reasons for some of the procedures that seemed senseless to me before. I'd like to thank the staff who did such a good job for me. And my family...this would be the perfect place to thank them, if only they didn't insist that I keep silent about them on the blog.

Talking about thanks: THANKS TO ALL MY BLOG FRIENDS WHO WROTE IN TO WISH ME WELL! It was much, much appreciated!!!!!!!

P.S.: I just got this super-hilarious bebop dance from Steve Worth:

http:/www.latenightcoffeeshops.blogspot.com

Thanks, man!

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

DISGUISE: IF I WERE IN THE WITNESS PROTECTION PROGRAM


Most of these are pictures of the Israeli master of disguise, Dubi Preger. Looking at them makes me wonder, if I were running from the law, or were in a witness protection program, how would I make myself up to avoid being detected?



If this were the seventies or eighties the hip capitalist disguise might be a good option. The long hair covers the ears, making it unnecessary to change them, and people who wear hair like that frequently wear sunglasses, so covering the eyes wouldn't draw much attention.



A simple, easy to do change (above), requiring a life-style change, but one that looks easy to pull off.



Here's (above)another easy one, except it would require painfully sticking a stretcher up the nose every day. The grey beard would would work great with grey contact lenses.



Putty noses (above) change an appearance but you'd have to be an expert at applying them. Even Dubi had trouble pulling it off.



Here (above) Dubi makes up a couple of friends. This (above) is obviously too theatrical but it's not a bad disguise if it could be made to look more natural. The guy looks like someone who wouldn't stand out in a crowd, and the change seems to suit him. It's amazing how even a slight change in hairline can give someone a different look.



Of course you don't want your disguise (above) to be too obvious.



Here's (above) a vending machine disguise that would allow women to elude night-time pursuers. The amazing thing is that this machine fabric is meant to be worn under ordinary clothes, and to be forgotten about when not in use.



This is completely off-topic but I noticed it on a sidebar to Dubi's pictures. This (above) is a hundreds of years old mummy of a revered Japanese monk who, over a period of years, mummified himself while he was still alive. He ate lots of resins, injected them under his skin, bathed in them, etc.



Here's (above) a 5 minute YouTube clip showing all of Lon Chaney's numerous disguises. Beside the Phantom of the Opera I like the London After Midnight one the best.

Sunday, September 07, 2008

THE BEST COMIC BOOK STORY EVER


In my opinion Marvel's greatest title of all time was not "Fantastic Four" or "Spiderman," but the comic that preceded them: "Tales of Suspense." No wimpy guys in tights here, but rather original stories of giant Kirby monsters on the rampage, different monsters in almost every issue.




By far the two best Tales of Suspense stories, the ones that towered over all the others, were "Goom" and it's sequel, "Googam, Son of Goom." I bought these off the newsstand when I was a kid and I remember thinking, "This is great! How are these guys ever going to top this?" Well, they didn't. Nobody did.

Thanks to a much-appreciated gift from John K, I was able to have Goom with me when I was recovering from surgery this week. Goom helped to keep my sanity during that ordeal. The only problem was that I found myself laughing so much that my stitches threatened to come apart. That's OK, Goom was worth it. If my scanner was up and running I'd scan it for you, but alas, I'm forced to rely on the inadequate images available on Google.




The story goes something like this: A young, idealistic New-Age scientist believes that hidden planets exist in the Solar System which we can't see. Being a trusting soul, he figures the creatures who live there must be incredibly nice guys who'd love to share their knowledge with us, so he sends radio signals to them revealing the exact location of Earth. Little does he know that he has just revealed our whereabouts to the biggest asshole in the universe: GOOM! Goom can't believe his luck! He immediately gets in his spaceship, which looks like a giant parakeet, and heads for the Earth to conquer it.




Goom lands in the wimpy scientist's backyard and begins threatening him and his wife. Goom rips up rose bushes, breaks things, and causes people to devolve into babies, all the while spouting lines like "For I am Goom,", "It is I, Goom!", Fools, it is useless to flee Goom!", "Cower before the all-powerful Goom!", "I can run faster than you, I'm taller than you, and I can out-think you!", and "Watch me rip apart this bicycle!" He gets the scientist to invite the world's leaders to his house for a peace conference, and when they show up, Goom threatens to eat them if they don't declare him the Supreme Ruler of Earth. I won't spoil it by revealing what happens next.





Goom is finally gotten rid of, but in the sequel we are informed that Goom left behind a giant baby in a cave. The baby is an even bigger jerk than his dad!



Of course a lot of this over-the-top dialogue style comes from "Brain from Planet Arous," one of the best and most cheesey sci-fi films of the 50s. This movie had a big influence on me, and when I first got a job in the animation industry I wanted to stick conquering brains into every story I worked on.

Saturday, September 06, 2008

MY STAY IN THE HOSPITAL


I just spent five days in a hospital and the experience was indescribably ugly and nightmarish. I spent every minute of the five days waiting for the hour hand to make it's way twice around the clock, dreading the boredom and the extreme tortures to come. I had an extremely competent and experienced surgeon yet my advice to everyone reading this is, don't get major surgery if you can possibly avoid it. If you can't avoid it then have the surgery at the earliest possible time when the problem is relatively small.  I remind the reader that we don't live in Captain Kirk's time when Bones the doctor can cure everything with what amounts to a flashlight. Our time is more like the Civil war when whiskey and amputation were the remedies.  Surgery is still about all about violating your body, and causing pain. We're not really all that advanced.


Hospitals are crazy places. Everybody agrees that sleep is important to recovery, yet hospitals are one of the hardest places in the world to sleep.  The staff keeps waking you up to give you pain pills to put you to sleep. Since those pills cause constipation, and since constipation prevents you from getting rid of the gas that accompanies surgery, pain and sleeplessness are actually guaranteed by the system.


Some nurses are angels of mercy that really care what happens to you.  Others are martinets who will follow a regimen regardless of the consequences. I had to wear a catheter and I was constantly woken out of sleep by compulsive nurses who felt the need to "irrigate" it, i.e., put a big horse tranquilizing syringe into it and pump it to shake loose possible clots. The syringe causes searing, torturous pain by causing rapid change in the internal abdominal pressure. Once again, the justification for irrigation was that it would help patients sleep. After every irrigation I would stay awake for hours trying to shake off the horror of it all. 



Francis Ford Cuppola called Vietnam the first rock and roll war because rock was so frequently present, even during firefights. In the same way, we live in the first ( or maybe the second) era of daytime TV medicine. Daytime TV is the constant background rhythm of hospitals. You may be dying, and your doctor may be struggling to figure out how to medicate, but you both have one ear glued to the TV so you can find out what Dr. Phil said about Oprah, or who the movie stars dated last night.  Daytime TV gives me nausea. Does the world really need one more manicured, perky anchorwoman or one more executive-driven animated show with "tude?" 



Of course real conversations happen, even in hospitals. My roommate, was a police officer and we got to talking about crime.  I wondered out loud if criminals were really chronically unimaginative people, who just couldn't imagine the suffering they were causing to others. The policeman looked at me with stunned disbelief.  His answer:  "Real criminals aren't unimaginative. They're selfish and undisciplined. They want immediate satisfaction and would rather take the risk of killing a 7-11 clerk for 50 bucks than work a legal job for a day and make the same money risk-free. They live in an environment where crime is in the air and no other activity is admired or encouraged." I muttered something Hunter S. Thompson said about crime, and he brusquely made his apologies and closed the curtain securely around his bed. He just couldn't see the point in talking to a dilettante like myself who didn't know what he was talking about.  He never opened it again. I knew from peaking that he spent the time reading Field and Stream magazine.  


By the way, I'm a big booster of the police who, whatever their faults, risk their lives every day so the rest of us can be safe. I'm just not a fan of Field and Stream.




Tuesday, September 02, 2008

MILD POETRY READING



I'll be gone for a few days. I'm not sure when I'll be back...maybe as soon as Friday. See you then!