I recently wrote the following:

My wife, who is usually mildly disinterested in my webcomics mania

I even more recently (about three minutes ago) received the following in an email from her:

Time to go see today’s Dinosaur Comics. Look what you’ve done!! I believe there is a lesson here for us all!

What I have been unable to accomplish in years of pestering, Ryan North managed with a single book. There is no limit to his power, and stay the hell away from my wife, North! I will not lose her to your seductive Canadian ways!

Chris Onstad clearly needs to answer one of those late-night ads for a company that helps you develop your inventions. There’s lungs made from an AIBO, the insane dance move, the marijuana phone booth, the Sani-Taco, fake nuts for your cell phone, and possibly a machine that can tell if you are in Puberty.

Today, he adds the Greatest Underpants In The World to that list. Aluminum foil to prevent ding-a-ling cancer! An extended pouch so you can avoid brain tumors with the speakerphone! And if you ain’t got your phone you can just put lycopene-rich ketchup in there for dippin’ fries

Because everybody loves ketchup.

In the past weeks, we’ve seen words (and pictures) regarding the college graduations of numerous webcomics creators. Congrats to all, although I feel like I’m supposed to say damn you, McConville for some reason.

This spate o’ graduatin’ puts one in mind of an oddity about this medium — it’s almost entirely dominated by kids. Meredith Gran and Ian Jones-Quartey have been pumping out webcomics to readers around the world since before they could drive. Flight? Three volumes in three years, and the median creator age seems to be about 22. The next generation of webcomics superstars have just started updating their sites from the womb.

I can’t think of another individual artistic endeavor that’s so dominated by the high-quality work of such young creators … and no, pop music doesn’t count: the songs, the production, the videos, the stage shows, and the very lives of the product are constructed by massive teams of grizzled, late-middle-aged marketers, and the pop tarts in question are little more than sock puppets, but thanks for asking.

The closest analogue in modern arts that I can come up with is the mad-talented indy filmmaker with a vision — most of whom will never be seen by anybody outside friends and family, sadly. The only historical precedent I can see for this situation is when a crazy visionary put together a radio theater company and grabbed the attention of a nation at the age of 23. Okay, he got wacky later on, but he also got to act with Muppets, so that turned out okay.

So in conclusion, as you young creators prepare to make your way in the world, let’s be grateful for this unique medium that allows anybody with talent and luck to find a world-wide audience. Now stay the hell off my lawn, you damn whippersnappers.

Some have noticed and remarked on the fact that all of the new writers I’ve introduced so far are young women. Well, those of you that have low, suspicious natures will be relieved to note that PJ Hart, our fourth and final new writer, is in possession of both X and Y chromosomes. PJ comes to us from Belfast, Northern Ireland (thus bringing Fleen closer to the dream of worldwide domination), where he’s a student in Film and English and helps run a movie making society. Any one of those things should make him nigh-irresistable to the fairer sex, but add in that accent? Ladies, please! One at a time!

Everybody say hello to PJ!

Joe Zabel’s doin’ some big thinking over Examiner way, and I’ve come away more confused by the question than anything; not about the answer, but why the question is being asked, since it seems self-evident. Short form, he’s wondering if the “webcomics community” is shrinking even while “webcomics” are expanding. Slightly longer version, from the introductory paragraphs:

Recently a friend of mine made an observation that got me to wondering. “The webcomics medium is burgeoning,�? he said, “but the webcomics community is this tight little group of old-timers who always show up with the same opinions and the same agenda. And while the number of webcomic creators is growing by leaps and bounds, the ‘webcomics community’ is drastically shrinking.�?

I was so captivated by this notion of a paradoxical shrinkage at the center of a flourishing artistic movement that I decided to poll a number of colleagues about it and do some further research and brainstorming to hypothesize what’s really going on.

Zabel wisely starts with a definition of his terms:

But by “webcomics community,�? understand that I’m not referring to the entire body of people who participate in webcomics as readers or artists; this aggregate group is certainly on the rise. By “webcomics community�? I mean the community at the center of all this activity, the people who are interested in webcomics in general– in webcomics as a medium, as a distribution method, as an artform, as a pursuit. I’m thinking of the community of artists who create webcomics, along with avid fans of the medium, and (dare I say it) the critics and journalists who focus on the medium.

By those criteria, it’s fair to say that Zabel would place himself in the “webcomics community”; whether or not he’s correct to place this group “at the center of all this activity” is a matter of personal opinion. But here’s where things get a bit … ironic. Zabel starts soliciting opinions on the direction of this center, talking with Shaenon Garrity, T Campbell, Joey Manley, Mike Meginnis, David Hellman, Tym Godek, and Eric Burns. With the possible exception of (curiously enough) Manley, everybody Zabel spoke to is arguably a part of the center as he defines it. This sort of reduces the question to, “Does a self-identified group in a larger culture become less important as the culture becomes still larger and more diverse?”

All together now: yes. There’s plenty of people creating and reading webcomics that never heard of Big Panda, and have read the work of first-generation creators. New webcomics crop up all the time; it’s true that without the first generation, they wouldn’t have the same environment to grow in, but does that mean that they owe alliegance to this center?

The task facing those of us who love webcomics is not to form a Webcomics Academy, it’s to make sure that every offering in this marketplace of amusements gets a chance to find an audience. Creators and projects will come and go, they’ll shift tone and audience, and local concentrations of interest will form and disperse, regardless of what definition of Webcomics (capitalized, proper noun) you follow. It’s not a case of whether or not the center will hold.

It’s whether or not the center ever truly exsited. As Zabel’s describing it, I don’t think so.

Truth be told, I’m not sure that Kate Ditzler even exists. Oh, sure, there were entries in the Win A Gig At Fleen contest, and there’s been email between us, but it could have all been an elaborate setup. “Kate” (if that is “her” real name) claims to be single, 19, a student at Michigan State, studying International Relations and Social Relations. That sounds an awful lot like the stereotypical “internet girlfriend” that lonely nerds might make up … the only trick missed is that she’s not from Canada! But wait, “Kate” claims to be heading to London next year to continue her studies via an internship! Oh, sure, I’d like for you to meet my new writer, but she lives in another country!

The only question is, who is “Kate” exactly? An amazing life-like simulation? Or somebody claiming to be her in order to engage in nefarious purposes from inside the Fortress of Fleen? I can only think of one person well-versed enough in webcomics, with layers of influence throughout the land, and even experienced in writing from the POV of a teenage female: T Campbell, you’re busted!

Or maybe not. Everybody say hello to Kate!

So an invitation to check out a strip came through recently, leading me to check out Thingpart by Joe Sayers. There’s some fairly smart references hiding behind those stick figures, which leads to the question: is writing enough? Can the art be as, um, child-like and innocent as humanly possible, and still be offset by the words?

If you think “no”, then don’t bother with those links; you won’t like ’em. But then you probably don’t like The Perry Bible Fellowship or Boy on a Stick and Slither, either. They’re pretty much the Platonic Ideals of simple art used with great effectiveness. If you think “yes”, how do we explain the fact that Nicholas Gurewitch and Steven Cloud can be seen to use simplistic art merely for its effect (affect, even), and often mix in beautiful, complex artwork and or backgrounds that hint at subtle depths? To get by with simple art (or nearly without art entirely), do you have to obsess over language to a Northian degree? Shall we to this marriage of Art and Language admit impediments?

So … discuss. And after we’ve solved this dilemma to everybody’s satisfaction, we can get to work on the whole Bird Flu thing.

When I think “determined”, I think of Sommer Leinbach. Valiantly clinging to the hardscrabble prairie of Omaha, Nebraska while maintaining a collegiate career would harden most people, but Sommer still finds tenderness in her heart for her two cats and her boyfriend. Working in a hospital might grind down most people with the neutral colors, antiseptic smells, and complete lack of cynical smartass geniuses, but Sommer perserveres. And arguing both politics and Battlestar Galactica would get you pegged by most people as a complete geek, but Sommer … okay, you probably got her on that one. Anyway, she’s our second new writer here at Fleen.

Everybody say hello to Sommer!

What can I say about Allison Cook that hasn’t been said before? Not too damn much, Skippy, so we’ll content ourselves with the fact that she’s a twenty-something college student in Arlington, Texas. As a psychology major, she knows all about your sick little fantasies, you disgusting pervert. She loves webcomics, and she’s our first new writer here at Fleen.

Everybody say hello to Allison!

So there have been a couple of offers from creators to send review copies of books ’round here at Fleen Central, and I figure that there will be more in future, so this seems like a good time to make public our policies regarding book reviews.

1. We aren’t going to ask for free copies, but we aren’t going to turn them down, either. 
2. If you want to send a review copy, hit the “Contact Us” link, which will send your email to everybody on the writing staff.
3. The writer calling dibs will contact you with mailing details. As we’re spread out around the country (and world), there’s not going to be one address to send things to.
4. Sending us a book for free does not obligate us to write a review.
5. It’s possible that your book has already been bought or pre-ordered by everybody with an interest in it; if you want to send us a copy in that case, we’ll hold a contest to give it away.
6. After the review, we retain the right to do anything we like with the book, including but not limited to: origami experimentation, eBay for fun and profit, using it to line litter boxes or birdcages, passing it on to friends, leaving it on the train or bus for a random stranger to pick up, donating it to a library/school/prison, or tossing it in the recycling bin.

Thanks for your time and kind understanding.