It is called the Net/the Web for a reason

As I said before, today is Bosses' Day. Which to my best estimation basically means the bosses don't actually have to be here. As a result, I've been diving full-on into the Web and all the wonderifics it has to offer. That's only a loosely figurative submersion analogy. I swear to god sometimes it really feels like I have to pull myself up and out of something when I get this transfixed. I'm not working, there is no work to work on. So the Web has my complete attention; hence, here I am again today...adding to it. But when the phone rings or a student makes their way back to my cubicle, there's actually a few seconds there where I have to exert some measure of energy to become fully conscience in the "real world" and be able to have a functional conversation.

I read an article about Alan Moore that sorta reminded me of my post-viewing thoughts on American Splendor, on the American comic-book reading public. I think the article sort of painted a more dismal view of the industry, where the film called attention to the potential diversity. Again, I'm stuck with using words loosely (I also read a few articles about Derrida today, due to his recent death, so that's where you can lay the blame of my current "I'm trapped by language" attitude) because it isn't as if comic books can "potentially" be diverse; they are, in truth, already very diverse in other countries. However, here in America we're really only concerned about the colored tights and flowing capes. Gary Groth's comments in the article are to be expected. I've always found his commentary challenging, and it just went on to remind me of the feeling I had after hearing Harvey's advice to his daughter at the end of Splendor. There is a place for autobiography and while the creative endeavor may not have the color of fantasy, that doesn't mean it's not good. I think I've lost touch with that. I can't say for sure that I always had it, the nearest I can recollect was back when Adrian Tomine was breaking. I guess I'm talking 1994 or so. I guess I'm just a bit saddened, I think, that there is this dichotomy in American comic-book culture. That, on one hand, you have so-called "undergrounders" like Pekar and Tomine that actually reflect the very real diversity in international comic literature with journalistic, autobiographic, "real" stories but that (other hand here, folks) so-called "mainstream" comic books in America only have enough time to extol Superman. I appreciate the article's author's implication that Alan Moore is trying to resuscitate the American comic book market by bringing back iconic characters (I'm not to sure I'm sold into believing that he is, in fact, doing exactly as the article's author claims), but maybe...and this is just me coming from Derrida and being saddened...maybe we should just let it die already. Let the American market die to give more to the "underground".

My back still really aches. And I don't mean that loosely.