I am over two weeks late writing this article. There are a lot of reasons why -- for one thing, it's hard to think of something clever to say about the world of webcomics immediately after writing a six page paper about the Emperor Alexis Comnenus I of Constantinople -- other examples include extremely urgent tea drinking, needing to listen intently to the same three tracks of the opera Carmen 14 times through because I can never hit the bloody flat at the end of the aria and I need to know it by Saturday, and wanting to avoid the incessant teasing of my housemates when I use my voice recognition program.

Dylan Meconis and Bill Mudron talk about webcomics... and chocolate.

It's gaming month and that means that blah blah blah disappointing lack of female characters in comics about gaming blah blah blah my D&D experiences blah blah blah; too many people doing gaming comics about two college roommates blah blah blah women like shamelessly slaughtering orcs too occasionally blah blah game reviewer for Computer Gaming World named "Scorpia" who was really cool blah blah blah and once in awhile you found a woman who games with other women rather than a small cabal of smart-mouthed male characters against whom she is set as the "sane/reasonable" character who tries to be one of the boys but ultimately adores shopping blah blah blah PvP blah blah only computer game I've ever enjoyed was The Longest Journey and blah blah blah Final Fantasy blah blah why aren't there more chicks doing this stuff already.

Okay, I really needed to get that first paragraph off my chest. I feel much better now.

Death of a Webcartoonist -- online burnout

I don't know whatever possessed me to try and write a column about burnout. It's like being assigned a term paper on nihilism: you're really, really tempted not to turn in anything at all. Nobody can say that you failed to grasp the concept at hand .

Luckily (?) for you, my work ethic has risen, phoenix-like, from the ashes. But I have been to the Edge: and I can tell you what lies beyond.

I've always been a Hallowe'en kind of kid. Christmas, yes, fine, but Christmas doesn't give you the opportunity to coat yourself to the elbows with pumpkin gore. Nor, in anticipation of 12/25, does one feel authorized to spend large amounts of money on cosmetics that aren't used in a normal social context anywhere excepting the better geisha bars, and maybe some parts of Dixieland. Yes, Hallowe'en is a green light for every morbid-minded, artsy, exhibitionist kook to inflict their aesthetic on a world that otherwise has very little place for people whose favorite movies universally involve some combination of Tim Burton, Danny Elfman, and Johnny Depp ¹.

A Tale As Old As Time...

So I wake up this morning, and my webcomic is still asleep. No problem, I think. Let it get a little sleep. It's been working hard, what's the harm of a few extra hours of shut-eye for my hard-working little darling? So I crawl out and go for my morning run (which, by the way, I only go on because I have repetitive stress injury from drawing and typing – but, you know, these are the compromises you make in a good relationship).

When I get back, it's still sacked out, so I throw together some breakfast, figuring it's probably my turn, anyway. I'm pulling the last piece of toast out of the toaster when, sure enough, my webcomic straggles in.

So, here I am, a student at a liberal arts college, majoring in a liberal arts department. Part of this department's "cool" is that its logo involves an interwoven Hebrew Aleph and Greek Omega.

Yes. It's that kind of major.

After two years of this, you might think that I'm ready for some concrete, real-world learning. Yet from personal experience, I can tell you that I am gaining in something that will help me throughout my adult life. Screw employability! I'm not paying over $30,000 dollars a year to qualify myself for a paycheck, my friends! I'm paying for a lifetime supply of high-minded pet-peeves.

I have a ruling reputation online as being outgoing and wacky. An online friend was once shocked to find out that my voice is not, in fact, at ALL chipmunky, despite the fact that I can yammer and pun and load on the sarcasm for paragraphs in chatrooms. But for some reason, around accomplished comic book people I'm a complete dimwit.