Showing posts with label Brevity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brevity. Show all posts

Sunday, May 6, 2007

Guy and Rodd Must Die

Enough with cute animals and groovy dudes, enough
appreciating pleasant humor and grumbling
good-naturedly about mediocre strips. Let's talk
violent insurrection on the comics page. There's a
disease spreading throughout the 'Mix, and no, it's
not the VD i'm sure everyone's catching - that is, if
they're all copulating as much as Ben seems to think
they are - it's something much more nefarious, more
vile, and certainly more maleficent (tip o' the pin to
Walt. Fun is Magic). This shit needs to stop. It needs
to BE STOPPED.

That's right, kids, we're talking about poorly worded
comic strips.

Nothing goes further to ruining a joke, and my morning
bowl of cereal (or pasta, if Isaac's cooking) than a
poorly worded strip. I mean, if the art looks like a
two-year old's vomit painting (i.e. if I drew it), it
can still be funny if it's a well written gag. mmmmm,
except maybe for Clear Blue Water. That art caused
more than a few vomit-paintings in our household. You
could blind a child with that shit. But barring
that... where was I? ah yes. Seriously, Guy and Rodd,
do you think that just because your shit is on a piece
of paper that doesn't move, it means you can abandon
the concept of comic timing altogether? No! of course
not. You were going to answer yes, I can see it in
your beady little eyes. But you were going to be
wrong. Comic timing is just as important in writing,
maybe moreso! And it's not just the timing. Bad timing
and pacing is only one symptom of VD (verbose
dialogue). Comics that suffer from this pitiable
disease also often display another fatal flaw: Poor
Wording. Sometimes the sentences are just so painfully
awkward. And here's the fucking ironic thing: The
comic strip is called BREVITY!! God damn it, I'm
becoming enraged just thinking about it! Most episodes
of Brevity have painful run on sentences, when in fact
one or two words would have done. And no fucking
subtlety. Let's look at a recent strip:



Above and beyond being generally stupid, and vaguely
offensive, look at that sentence! It's terrible! Does
no one edit this nonsense?? Come on. If you feel like
you need to make this idiot joke, how about something
a little more concise. A little more BRIEF, if you
will. Perhaps these poor, hapless goons don't know
that the word 'brevity' is derived from the word
'brief,' you might think to yourself. Ah, but you'd be
wrong. If for some reason you choose to inflict Guy
and Rodd's website on yourself (GuyandRodd.com), you will see a
foolish sight-gag that clealry demonstrates before the
court that they DO know what the word means. Guilty!!
Guilty!!!! GUILTY!!!

Let me clarify that wordy comics don't have to be bad.
They just have to be written well. A good wordy comic
is a treat, because your pleasure lasts longer. I
mean, who likes it when FBorFW or someone does an
all-visual Sunday strip? Not me. You've got a longer
format, the opportunity to tell a more developed joke.
Seems like a waste, or dare I say a cop-out? Let's
contrast comics like Brevity and Curtis (another
offender of the highest order) with something like Get
Fuzzy, or Sherman's Lagoon, both of which are blessed
with impeccable pacing and wording. Even with a joke
that isn't terribly overt, as in the case of many
installments of Get Fuzzy, it's a pleasure to read
because it's streamlined, it flows like a glorious
river through the hills and dales of our morning 'Mix
experience. I find that I often reread those strips 2
or 3 times right in a row, compelled by some outside
force to follow the sensuous flow of that river
without end. And then Brevity appears on the horizon
like a dam, killing the thousands of happy fish that
swim lazily through the patches of sunlight dappling
the page. A river of blissful ink, teeming with happy
life, destroyed all in the name of the twisted vision
of Guy and Rodd! I mean, for God's sweet sake, when I
get to Brevity, it makes me excited to get through to
Dennis the Menace. Thatthought alone makes me feel unclean.

And so I say to them (to you, Guy and Rodd, if you're
reading this): Stop. Just stop. Seriously. I'm not
fucking around anymore. I've got a shipment of
Kalashnikov's coming in tonight, and we're not going
to take this lying down anymore. Death to Guy and
Rodd, pretenders to the name. Long live true brevity
on the Comics Page!

p.s.: 'Mimefield'? Come ON.