Buy A Fucking Comic Book
We live in dark times. Things look bleak on all fronts and we all could probably use a silver lining of some sort. A reassurance that there is still art and beauty in the world. A form of escapism and entertainment that is pointing and thoughtful. We need something to lift our spirits, feed our souls. Fortunately for us, such an art form not only exists, but it is in a renaissance, of sorts. You want entertainment? You want art, beauty, and wonder? You want goddamn enlightenment?
Then buy a fucking comic book.
That’s right. Comic books. No other industry is putting out brilliant and expertly crafted works (every week, no less) as consistently as the comic industry. Every week, stapled, bound and stitched bundles of brilliance are delivered to comic book stores around the country. Every Wednesday. A flood of creativity from a medium that does any and every genre better than television, film or literature available every week. Some of the best writers, artists and craftsmen in the world are working in the comic industry producing some of the best, most original works available today.
Comics do it all and they do it better.
Horror, romance, mystery, science fiction, fantasy, whatever it is you are into, comic books provide it. Like thrillers and mysteries? Pick up a copy of Echoes. Into ultra violence, horror and gore? You’ll dig Crossed. Whimsical fantasy with a heart and a message? Return of The Dapper Men is right up your alley. Tense action and subtle character development? The Killer. World culture and politics? Footnotes in Gaza. Hell, do you like porn? Is pornography your thing? Because Chester 5000 XYV does porn better than porn. Seriously, guys.
Comics have been doing this since their inception. They are fantastical, larger than life and a reflection of the counter culture movement of their time. Captain America punched Hitler in the face long before the Japanese bombed Pearl Harbor. Superman exposed unsafe working conditions in mines throughout America while labors unions began to battle big business. The comic books of the 80s and 90s showed the disillusionment within the so-called American Dream. They were direct reactions to the Reagan era, to the spoon-feed suburban dream. They brought the anger and the violence to the surface, just like punk rock music or modern art. They challenge the system, buck the trends, change the rules and fight the power. And they do it every week.
All of this is possible because comics can operate uninhabited. Words and pictures, that’s all it takes (and you don’t always need the words). An independent creator can create a tale as sweeping and grand in scale as the guys at the big publishers. The imagination of the creators is the only ceiling. Think of a story and comic books can tell it. They are probably telling it and doing it better than you are thinking.
And yet, nearly every person working in the world of comic books spends copious amounts of time trying to figure out how they can bring you into the fold. How they can make you a comic book reader? They just want you to come into a store and try a comic book. They rack their brains trying to find ways to reach out to you. They just want you to give them a shot.
But, you know what? Fuck that. This is all your fault, not theirs. Comic books do all the heavily lifting. Artists, writers, editors, letterers, inkers, colorists, publishers, all of them working their asses off to produce amazing works of art and you expect them to beg for your attention? No. No more. Stop your bitching about Hollywood’s endless remakes and television’s shitty Fall schedule. Stop wondering all where the creative, intelligent creators have gone.
Buy a copy of Invincible. Buy American Vampire. Buy The Strange Talent of Luther Strode. Buy Sweet Tooth. Buy Spaceman. Buy An Elegy for Amelia Johnson. Buy Mouse Guard. Buy Scalped. Buy Cow Boy. Buy Casanova. Buy the goddman Batman. Just buy a fucking comic book.