As I was reading through Jog’s weekly column for The Comics Journal, I basically gave up on the idea of buying comic books. People my age consume comic books with a hunger like we’ll never see them again. We learned that from when good comics were very difficult to come by. Now $500 worth of good comics are released per week, and my owned books take up so much floorspace that I hopscotch through my one-room hovel, I think it is time to stop buying and start leaning more heavily on our libraries.
Last night my friend’s dog jumped and hopped and leapt for joy when the friend got home. The dog is a rescue dog, literally starving to death when the shelter found her. A year later the dog is a healthy weight but still reacts to being fed like it might never happen again.
For many years, the comic book economy has practically been driven on guilt. When a comic gets cancelled, there’s a mournful shrug and “I guess people don’t like good comics.” A deep well of regret for not saving everybody. It gets worse if one is a cartoonist oneself. Come out and support the team! We’d support you! And the same twenty dollar bill circulates around a convention hall for a weekend, returning to its original owner. I doubt that I’ll ever overcome the sense of guilt that I feel when I pass on a friend’s book or choose to read it from the library. But that is how it’s got to be. Fuck comics.