Two Dimensional Holiday

Escape The Real World Into Comics

The best thing about comics is that they aren’t the real world and you can inhabit their reality for awhile to escape ours. The real world is supposed to be a little more boring and predictable, whereas in comics we have things like talking dogs. I’m specifically talking about the comic strips you see online, in newspapers, and in books.

Of course, the real world can be crazier. In fact, I’ll go ahead and call it. It is crazier. So perhaps the normality of a talking dog is a nice escape as well.

I don’t have any talking dogs in my comic. Signs and even coffee cups can be alive, but there are no talking dogs. In fact, when people ask me what my comic is about, I usually say “Well, there certainly are no talking dogs!” This is because I enjoy being vague.

I remember reading a newspaper editor’s note that was written in the 1950s about a Marmaduke comic. Since this memory comes from my brain’s junk drawer it’s somewhat patchy, but this particular editor found a comic of Marmaduke sitting in a barber’s chair to be “ridiculous” and he would not print it. I think this tells you everything you need to know about creating comic strips in the 1950s and why MAD Magazine came along at the perfect time.

Now you can write about anything. You may not get paid, but unlike the 1950’s you can always be seen and read. The sky’s the limit. The trick is to set your own limits and your own sky. Creativity, it’s been pointed out, comes out of these restrictions.

Here are some comics of mine that remind the reader that we are not in three dimensions anymore.

Wait, I can do this in real life. I have done this in real life. Forget this one.

That’s better. I don’t think this can happen in real life.

We should all have a boss easily swayed by a dog.

Claremont doesn’t talk. He thinks like Snoopy. Charles Schulz giving Snoopy thought balloons changed Peanuts, and comic strips, for the foreseeable future. Claremont is very grateful. I know this because he thought it and I read it.

Comics are called comics, or funnies, because they came from comic, or funny, strips, but now when you say “comic book”, you think of superheroes. That’s funny.

And, yes, I may have thought about Superman not needing to work. I think not needing shelter is a heck of a power. He has free housing in the form of ice in his Fortress of Solitude. It’s not like he has to worry about doctor bills. His one illness can be cured by crawling away from the green rock. What else can human society offer him? Transportation? Doesn’t need it. Education? The rocket he came here in had all of that. Boredom! He doesn’t have a power to fight that. Superman is here because he loves to read the comics we make about him. It all makes sense now.

I do offer talking worms. For whatever reason, I’ve made quite a few comics where a worm can talk.

This was a very popular comic and I don’t remember the exact origin. The person who originally inspired Tabby wanted a velociraptor as a manager and I can’t remember why or how that even came up in conversation.

So of course I had to bring him back, but you can’t top pigs with pigs.

I honestly didn’t realize until now that I’ve made quite a few references to Superman. I’ve always been more of a Spider-Man reader.

This wrote itself. Long line. The guy taking his sweet time seemed to acknowledge and then ignore that he was holding everyone up. He was very likeable, so it was hard to get mad. I was helping Columbo.

The coffee cup used to be a regular and ultimately faded into his current non-speaking role.

Now I must leave the two dimensional world and return to three dimensions, if only to find and read more comics.