AUTOPTIC REPORPTIC

Hey it's been a long time since I've posted regularly on Ye Olde Blogge®. Partially it's because now that I've achieved Total and Complete Domination of Social Media™ I spend most of my time posting on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and Myspace. Also, I write a monthly recap for my Patreon supporters (hint hint) and that takes up a lot of what was once known as My Blogging Energy®.

That said, we all know how sinister Social Media is, and how inescapable Corporate Culture™ is nowadays... so I would like to focus more energy here going forward. I know Blooger is a wholly owned subsidiary of some Mega-Corp or another, but at least this is something with my name on it and there's no ads...

So without further ado, here's my report from the Autoptic Festival, which I attended this last weekend in Minneapolis.

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I have to admit I'm burned out on shows. I'm burned out on a lot of things (watch for upcoming Blogge Posts on this subject), but I'm burned out on shows. It used to be that after a weekend of traveling, tabling, dehydration, not eating well, and not sleeping well, I felt awful, and it took me sometimes close to a week to recover. Nowadays I feel that way before I leave for a show. Also, after two decades of utter chaos and upheaval, I'm in love with my current domesticated, backyardish life, and I'm usually loathe to leave even for short trips of a few days.

Prior to leaving for Minneapolis, though, I'd been fried out by several months of six-and-a-half day workweeks at the distro and I was kinda looking forward to seeing friends. Plus, Minneapolis in the summertime is never a bad idea. So off I went.

View from atop the lookout.

Traffic was bad through the Dells, as usual, but then it opened up into some of the prettiest interstate driving in the Midwest. I stopped at a rest area I'd never visited before, that promised a "scenic overlook." Sure enough, across the parking lot was a nicely maintained path into the trees. It wound up a hillside, onto a meandering boardwalk that spanned some nice gullies, and out onto a platform. The view was beautiful, with hills and woodland green spreading out to the horizon. I took some deep breaths and headed back down. I had to be in Minneapolis that evening for a panel discussion.

I was hungry and tired, and looking for a Burger King (don't judge me), and finally found one across the river in Minnesota. I parked and went in. It was grimy and dark. A few lonely people milled about at tables, nursing coffees. At the counter, ordering problems ensued, and the guy couldn't get the register open to make change; they made my gluten free burger with a bun, then they gave me a burger with no vegetables or condiments. When the guy was unable to give me a receipt I felt so sad that I couldn't even broach the subject with him.* The staff was clearly unhappy with each other, the management was bugging people about extra shifts etc etc. As I ate, I thought "Is this the World's Saddest Burger King?" I had my phone out and was about to tweet that, when a young woman and three little kids came in, bought frozen Cokes and proceeded to run into the Indoor PlayGround, laughing and smiling. No way it could be the World's Saddest anything anymore. So I put my phone away.**

A few minutes later I was in town, pulling up at Moon Palace Books, where Autoptic events were being held. Lots of Comix-looking people milled about, and one of the panels was in progress when I arrived. Soon it was time for me to get up there. It was a panel on "Destigmatizing Vulnerability in Comics," hosted by Aaron King, with Sage Coffey, Alexis Cooke, and me. It went well. Afterwards people hung out in the bookstore café talking about comics, salami, and exhaustion.

Vulnerability panel. Photo by Melanie Gillman.

That night I stayed with Uncivilized publisher Jordan, his wife Jess, and Shoe the Cat. BFF Ben Sears was there too. We stayed up late talking about My Bloody Valentine and Gluyas Williams. Then off to Dreamland.

In the morning I drove Ben to the Autoptic venue. When we got there he realized he'd left a box of books back at Jordan's. He apologized profusely, but I assured him it was no big deal, and we headed back. On the way, he kept apologizing and beating himself up over it. Ironically, we had earlier been discussing whether Louisville (where he's from, and still lives) is the Midwest or not. I have to say, after his impressive display of self-deprecation and apologetics, even if it's not, I hereby ordain him an Honorary Midwesterner. (Sorry!)

Anyhow, we went in and did the show. Autoptic is in an amazing space, some kind of massive vaulted former warehouse. In that way alone it feels very different than most comics shows. It doesn't feel claustrophobic or oppressive. It also attracts a slightly different crowd than your average comics con. There were a lot of older people attending, as well as families and groups of friends. A number of people came to my table and told me they had just happened to be in town for the weekend and saw the show listed in the paper, and decided to check it out. So there was a kind of openness and curiosity to the attendees that I usually only feel at a zine show. (It should be noted, Autoptic has a somewhat larger scope that just a "comics show," featuring zines, printmaking, and other small press publications as well.)

Ye Olde Spit and a Half table.

I was located between my old buddies Kevin H. and Zak Sally, so it was nice to get to hang during the show and make fun of each other etc. I had a great time tabling, even though I had the usual con-related dehydration and blood sugar problems (nobody's fault but my own, folks!). In the afternoon I moseyed on over to a nearby Whole Foods and got something hot and non-sugary to eat and then it was smooth sailing through the end. All in all, sales were wonderful, I saw a bunch of old friends, met a bunch of new ones, and got to pick up some awesome comics.

Help! I'm trapped inside a comics festival with no protein!

Afterwards a group of us walked over the bridge to the official restaurant/afterparty location. I shared a table with Gabrielle Bell, Hannah and Anna from Philly, Jesse McManus, Zak, Ben, Iona Fox, and Kevin. Wow. I kinda hate comics sometimes, but I love cartoonists! God Bless 'Em All.

After having a lengthy discussion with Gabrielle about spontaneous kundalini awakening, and a mutual apology session with Nick Drnaso, and chatting with Ted Intorcio, and eating a few of Aaron Renier's gigantic Potato Chips, it was time to go.

Aaron Renier illustrates the Wisconsin Food Pyramid: Beer and something deep-fried.

Zak and I met up at his house where I was leapt upon by the bundle of nervous, unbridled energy known as Polly the Dog, or as I came to call her, Lynette. We stayed up til 2 AM talking about drugs, Buddhism, relationships, money, noise, dogs, and life. I had the choice of either the couch or Zak's son's bed. It was determined that if I chose the bed, Polly could join me. So I got in bed, slapped the sheets and exchanged slobbery dog kisses for belly-rubs all night long.

Miss Lynette "Da Lovebug" Sally.

And there you have it, kids: comics will break your heart, but they'll also lead to lifelong friendships, big laughs, and, possibly, tongue baths.

Next morning -- coffee, gas, and on the road. Through rain so intense outside of Madison that I ended up on an off-ramp because the roadsigns were unreadable. It was slow going, but I was home. Gibby gave me jazz hands and Iris snorked my arm... I took a shower to wash the road off of me, and got into bed. I turn fifty in three weeks.


*Cartoonists and Comics Industry Peeps: Always, ALWAYS, get your receipts and write this shit off your taxes. The less money you pay in taxes the less bombs they can drop on innocent brown people.

**I should mention that I would never hold it against a fast food worker for any seeming unruliness, exasperation, sadness, anger, or despair. That's a tough life, folks. Cut 'em some slack.

(Some of my) FAVORITE COMICS OF 2015

They say that timing is everything, and in this age of nanosecond attention spans and constantly refreshing newsfeeds that's more true than ever. So it's with great delight that I present here a brief and certainly incomplete list of Some of My Favorite Comics of 2015.

Every year more and more cool comics are released in droves, and every year I have less time to read them. But I buy them, and they stack up in boxes and overflowing shelves waiting for that moment when I can retire from the daily grind and sit down and read all those DeForge books. And mark my words, friends -- That day shall come.

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Extra Good Stuff by Dennis Eichhorn and Various (Last Gasp) More from the genius storyteller Dennis P. Eichhorn, released shortly before his death. Extra Good Stuff (like 2014's Real Good Stuff) teams Eichhorn up with some of the hottest, brightest cartoonists going today (Noah Van Sciver, Max Clotfelter, Tom Van Deusen, Aaron Lange) as well as old time favorites like Mary Fleener and Triangle Slash. A blast from the past blowing open the doors of today! Or something. Excellent.

The Complete Hairy Who Publications edited by Dan Nadel (Matthew Marks Gallery) It's hard to wrap my mind around the sudden increase in interest, or at least in publication, of the Hairy Who, some of the most influential but underappreciated artists of the late 20th Century. Decidedly unhip at a time when conceptual and minimalist art was in fashion, in the late 60's and early 70's this Chicago based artists group produced work that was funky, emotional, bright, weird and graphic, drawing inspiration from everyday life, including comic books. For each of their exhibitions, they produced a catalog that was more of a comic, featuring work from each of the members, Jim Nutt, Karl Wirsum, Gladys Nillson, and this books collects 'em all in ravishing full color.

Big Pussy by Gina Wynbrandt (2D Cloud) A hilariously self-abasing and brilliantly acerbic comic from young wunderkind Wynbrandt depicts the artist negotiating life, lust, and love in the Internet Age. Smart, wickedly funny, and transgressive. More comics like this, please!

Remember This by Disa Wallander (KUŠ) This funny and gently sardonic story examines our memories: why do we have them, why don't we have them, what do they mean? How does art encapsulate time? That sounds stuffy, but this comic is anything but. A delight.

My Hot Date by Noah Van Sciver (Kilgore Books) This one could just as easily have been Noah's St. Cole or Fante Bukowski (Fantagraphics), I Don't Hate Your Guts (2D Cloud) or Blammo #8.5 (Kilgore). The fact is, no one in comics right now is blasting away skill-wise as breathlessly as Noah Van Sciver. His writing continues to get even better, his drawing effortlessly depicts a real, tangible, livable world with ease and understated power, and now that he's figured out his secret coloring technique, in which colors pop and ebb with distinct and beautiful shadowing and tonal effects, he's simply unstoppable. Noah will bury us all, but at least we get to come along for the ride.

Ikebana by (Retrofit/Big Planet Comics) The silent protagonist of Ikebana guides us through a humorous look at the foibles of art school and then moves into the "real world" with a ruthless clarity before climaxing in wonder and surreal ambiguity. This short comic is endlessly surprising and deeply affecting, and stayed with me long after I read it.

Terror Assaulter: OMWOT: One Man War On Terror by Benjamin Marra (Fantagraphics) Marra's ridiculous and pitch perfect satire of masculinity and violence is odd, funny, disturbing, idiotic, and brilliant.

Hey America! Wake the Fuck Up! by Ron Regé Jr. (Self-published online) As Amerika® descends deeper into cruel stupidity and vacuous self-absorption Art can still remind us of who we really are, and who we want to be. Regé's brief response to modern life does not mince words or ideas, but is still full of compassion and heart. Fantastic, powerful, and much-needed. Link

Stroppy by Marc Bell (Drawn and Quarterly) Marc Bell's first extended foray into comix storytelling in some time is a savagely funny and absurd look at hyper-capitalism and corporate control. Poor Sap Stroppy unwittingly gets mixed up in a Capitalist Poetry scheme, while his evil boss Monsieur Moustache plots his fiendish creative coup. All with Bell's trademark nuttiness and surreal good humor, natch.
 

Recidivist IV by Zak Sally (La Mano 21) Harkening back to the fuck all days of alternative comics, when the integrity of one's personal expression was the all-consuming goal of our art, Recidivist IV is a deeply intense, dense, and difficult guide to one person's battle with his life and art. Reading the book requires that you sweat it out in the trenches with the author, and when you finally come out the other side you've had an undeniable taste of his struggle. A real achievement in a world where many cartoonists actually seek mediocrity, and ho-hum is often the most one can expect.

CAKE PATTER

So, last weekend was CAKE, the beloved and well-appreciated Chicago Alt-Comics festival. In a last minute push I managed to overcome my inertia and got a small print run of the new King-Cat printed for the show. (The main run, which goes out to stores and subscribers etc, will be coming soon.) 

If you read my previous post, you know that I've been approaching if not reaching Maximum Burnout­® as far as the convention circuit is concerned. But CAKE is my hometown show, and I think the best alt-comics show in the country right now. It's well attended, well-organized, and has an extremely high quality level. It feels like an old-tyme comics show, where the focus is back on creative individuality and risk taking, versus Adventure Time wannabee clones and trendhopping, intentional mediocrity. Almost every table at CAKE is primo, with some of the best and most interesting cartoonists of our time in attendance.

 The view from the Spit and a Half table, Saturday.

 

The Hon. Zak R. Sally, my next door neighbor and best bud.

 

British writer Dean Simons and Kilgore Books impresario, Dan Stafford.

 

Sgt. Huizenga of the Lake County Sheriff's Police.

 

Mardou interviews Zak for Comics Workbook.

 

My other neighbors were Keiler and Scott Roberts and their daughter Xia, who drew a picture of a groundhog and a beaver dancing for me. 

So anyhow, the show was great. And then. Somehow I made it through the entire day Sunday, from 11-6, at one of the biggest LGBTQ Centers in Chicago, without ever hearing about the shooting in Orlando. As I was loading out that evening, I noticed all the security in bullet proof vests everywhere, and I asked what was going on. It was then that I found out what had happened.

Walking out then onto Halsted Street, the historic heart of Chicago's LGBTQ community, I was stunned into speechlessness and heartbreak. The people moving down the street, rainbow flags draped over their shoulders, it all seemed like an eerie, terrible dream.

Let me just say out loud that I treasure my many gay, lesbian, bi, trans and otherwise queer friends. I can't imagine-- if I felt as stunned, scared, and furious as I did-- how you all must feel. For whatever it's worth, my love is here with you, along with the love of all your millions of supporters.

CENTER ON HALSTED -- DONATION PAGE

CHICAGO CHICAGO

Hey Kids,

It's been awhile since I updated here.  Turns out I will be attending a bunch of events in my Windy City over the next few weeks, so I thought I'd give you the info:

Sun. June 9, 2013: Printer's Row Lit Fest
From 2-3 PM I'll be signing books with Zak Sally at the CAKE table, Tent HH3 on Polk, between Dearborn and Federal.

Sat.-Sun. June 15-16: CAKE
I'll be tabling 11 AM to 6 PM both days, with tons of Spit and a Half stuff;  alongside Noah Van Sciver and Joseph Remnant at Table 82.

Sat.-Sun. June 28-29: American Library Association Conference
I'll be tabling in the Zine Pavilion from 10 AM - 4 PM both days!

See you there!  (Look for real bloggages soon...)
JP

SPX PLUS Part Five

Friday afternoon I headed up to Minneapolis in a rainstorm, which quickly abated by the time I got to the I-90 split, and turned into a beautiful Midwestern fall day.

Stopped first at Big Brain Comics, which surely has to be one of the best comic shops in the country, even if it's run by an unrepentant Packers fan.  Owner Michael and I talked football as I browsed, and then it was time for bed.

Drove over to Zak's place where we stayed up too late talking and trying to watch Dark Star before nodding off.  I got up early the next day and headed over to the Twin Cities Zine Fest.

The Spit and a Half table, Twin Cities Zine Fest

Zine fests are the best.  And this one even had vegan gluten free muffins for the exhibitors!

Uncivilized Books Head Honcho Tom K., with Gabrielle Bell's new book The Voyeurs.

TCZF organizer Lacey Prpic Hedtke, with muffins.

Spit and a Half intern Marissa Luna, hard at work.

Kings of the Minneapolis comics scene, Robert Kirby (left) and Tom K., discuss which territories to conquer next, and how said territories shall be divided upon conquering.

These dudes were offering free silk-screening fun.  Above, the print I pulled.  Viva la Papier!

The Fly Away Zine Mobile was out in the parking lot.

Zine Mobile driver, janitor, and CEO Debbie Rasmussen.

Interior.

Why am I always the last one to leave?

I had a couple hours after Zine Fest closed before I had to be at Boneshaker Books for a signing .  So Zak and I went out for tacos, con los munchkins.

Anders Nilsen at Boneshaker.

The reading went well.  Boneshaker was a wonderful shop, well curated, and full of community energy.

That night:  Comics makes for strange bedfellows.

Flossy

Isaac, looking a lot like Papa.

I LOVE YOUSE GUYS.

Heading back home, with the first half of Bear-Rams on the radio.

(1400 pound pumpkin.)

A MONTH OF SUNDAYS AND SATURDAYS

So, anyhow, I spent early-April to early-May on the road here and there, with weekend trips to Chicago, Columbus, Urbana, and Toronto for comix/zine shows.  Here is a cursory record of those events:

First stop was C2E2 in Chicago.  Joe Chips managed to wrangle himself a free table at this superheroey event (he was giving a presentation on Disability in the Comics) and I managed to wrangle a corner of said table from him.  I guess I was too depressed to take any pictures.  'Nuff said.

Next, out to good ol' Columbus Ohio, for good ol' SPACE.  This trip is always a high point of my year, as I really like Columbus.  I get to visit old High School friends (and their pets), and the show itself is low-key but well-attended by enthusiastic readers and artists.

Ginger Vitus, my l'il buddy.

Spit and a Half table, SPACE

JP, Carol Tyler, MariNaomi at SPACE

After Saturday's tabling we all went over to recent Columbus transplant Caitlin McGurk's new pad where Zeek the Cat slept through the festivities.  Everyone agreed that the Midwest is the new Seattle.

I stayed at my friend John J. and Michele's house north of Columbus.  (Artwork by up and coming cartoonist Mia J.)

I managed to spend some time at the Highbanks Metro Park before leaving Ohio.

Hoo Hah, then down to Urbana, Illinois for the second annual Midwest Zine Fest!

Quimby's manager, Liz "Caboose" Mason, talks to the MWZF crowd about zine distribution.

Midwest Zine Fest

Spit and a Half spread, MWZF

In case you've never been here, this is what Illinois looks like.

Had one last show to do: TCAF, in Toronto.  BFF Noah Van Sciver flew out from Denver to Milwaukee's 1950's era airport, and we got to hang out for a few days before Zak showed up from Minneapolis, and we all headed east together towards Toronto.

Zak left Mpls at 3 AM and I took over driving once he got to Beloit.  This is Zak trying to drown out the Jerry Clower blasting over the car stereo.

Yes.

Beauty, eh?

"Wanna buy a possum?"

Big City Lights

Noah on the roof of our hostel looking out over downtown Toronto, Friday night.

So-called "Supermoon" rising over the Bloor Street Metro

The show itself was so busy I didn't have time to take any photos.  As always, TCAF delivered.  It goes to show you how well it's run that this seemingly perfect show manages to get better year after year.  (Photo above courtesy MariNaomi's Facebook page.)

Saturday I participated in a panel discussion with Lizz Lunney and Darryl Cunningham, co-moderated by Simon Moreton and Ian Williams, on "Comics and Mental Illness."  Surrounded by Brits!  I kept getting distracted by worrying that I was gonna break out into a scouse accent.

L-R: Tom Neely (over shoulder), David Collier, JP, Emily Nilsson, Zak Sally, Noah, Pascal Girard.  Photo ripped from Noah's FB page.

The Three Amigos AKA Road Hawgs

Photo by Tom Devlin

Afterwards, people got together at a bar, but as soon as the Kool Jamz™ started I took off with Noah to book-shop at BMV.  I picked up the Agonizing Love collection, Fantastic Four Masterworks Volume Two, and a John Cleary Buddhist anthology that included Timeless Spring, a book I've been looking for for years...

Sunday was simply insane.

That evening I wandered around alone, trying to clear my head.  We ended up waking at 3:30 AM to head back home, jamming out to Van Halen II on our way out of town.