When Nonsense Collides!


by Cartoonist_at_Large

Cosmos: Old School (2001) - part twenty

Following in the (very large) footsteps of Mad Magazine and Bill Amend’s Foxtrot, I set myself the task of creating ‘movie stories’: tales in which the Cosmos cast would
go to see, pass judgment on, or otherwise interact with various sci-fi / fantasy / superhero movies that were OMG So Hot Right Now. A laudable goal, and I started with
(somewhat) a full head of steam - Star Wars: Episode One (2001, parts 17 and 18) had already been given the Cosmos treatment, and now I was moving onto a movie
I’d been looking forward to for quite a while: Jurassic Park 3! I know, I know, sequel of a sequel; but it’s a dinosaur movie! Work with me on this. I’d teasered the tale in
my preceding set of Murph strips (check out the magazine Gene is reading in the seventh strip in 2001, part 19), but it was soon time to go whole hog....

Top: Yep, that rule is indeed a thing. Although there was nothing stopping Artie and Gene (or, in fact, any Cosmosian) from geeking out over The Valley of Gwangi or
Reptillicus on a rainy Sunday afternoon, I still wanted to keep Earth-type prehistory out of Cosmos in anything other than a pop-cultural context. For example, if someone
went to the museum, they would see ancient Cosmosian wildlife, not dinosaurs and mammoths; and the same would go for a time-travelling jaunt back to 97 million
years BP. Separate worlds, separate histories, separate evolutionary origins.

Bottom: I fear I put rather too much of myself into Gene’s dialogue here - while I can see him becoming enthused enough to do some preparatory reading (and, as
per the ‘No Dinosaurs’ rule, he would have borrowed the books from me, not the library), his gushy dialogue might as well be me with a Gene hand puppet going
“Look at me! Look how much I love dinosaurs and stuff!” There’s absolutely nothing wrong with the joke, but the script seems a little bit contrived....

Top: See, this is a better way of doing the dino-geek thing - fully pop-culture factoid-ed, exactly as Artie and Gene would do it. Rather conveniently (and presciently),
the flash-forward in panel four is set in the right year for the release of Jurassic World, so in that sense, it’s bang-on accurate! There weren’t 154 different species,
though, only 14 - but that’s still two more than Jurassic Park 3, so the trend continues unchallenged!

Bottom: Another strip that suffers a bit form the same Get-Out-Of-It-Jon problem as strip no. 2, but at least this time I’m at least lampshading it by making no bones
about the fact that I can’t stop myself.... as much as Gene has no qualms about aiding and abetting my heinous crimes!

Top: In my experience, there’s nothing more enjoyable than watching a movie with a group of friends - not only is it a fun social activity, but you can also laugh / gasp /
grumble / rant along with everyone else, share movie snacks, swap trivia, and have a good post-movie critique / deconstruction afterwards! Seriously, though, Macy,
what were you expecting to go and see, if Artie and Gene were inviting you along?

Bottom: The one thing that annoys me about movies these days (says the bitter, cynical old man) is how easy they can be spoilerised before you see them; courtesy
of the internet, TV and magazines. In the build up to Jurassic Park 3, I tried to avoid as much as I could - but then I came across an article in a sci-fi magazine (which I
couldn’t not read, y’know?).... and all of a sudden, I knew there was going to be Ankylosaurs and a Ceratosaurus in the movie, which otherwise would have been a nice
surprise. And not long thereafter, there was a thing on the news about JP3 - which had pretty much the entire T.rex / Spinosaurus fight in it! AAAAAGH!!!

Top: Hey! Gene! What was I just saying about spoilers? You can call it ‘getting warmed up’ all you want, but if it’s telling everybody else in the theatre things they
don’t want to know yet, then you’re just ruining the experience for them....

Bottom: Once again, a case of ‘Too much Jon-wants-to-talk-about-dinosaurs, not enough letting-the-characters-get-on-with-it-themselves’.... the dialogue isn’t exactly
clunky or overly wordy (for a change), it just sounds rather forced coming from Ax and Macy rather than, y’know, me. Ax, for example, would not be able to site chapter
and verse on what is or isn’t a Therapsid - let alone know what the word even means.

Top: Oh yes, Gene, the Pteranodon sequence was indeed a highlight of the movie, given that good Pterosaur scenes (especially scientifically-accurate ones) are
pretty rare in the history of dino cinema. Traditionally, they are limited to background fly-bys or really bad props with visible wires (I’m looking at you, Land that Time Forgot);
and only on the odd occasion - say, Ray Harryhausen movies - were they given a chance to strut their stuff properly. But how much sugar-coated junk did you snarf
to make yourself see that, Mr. Ellis? Artie-dactyl has a very good point - you need to cut down!

Bottom: Frankly, I’m amazed Gene and co. haven’t been thrown out of the cinema by this point, what with all the explaining / arguing / yelling / tripping out they’ve been
doing (and the Spinosaurus vs. boat bit was well into Act three, remember).... So either there were very few people in there with them to start with, or whoever was in
there has long since left! The fourth panel is taken from real life, by the way: my friends and I definitely found that goofy purple
nightmare more terrifying than any of the other dinosaurs....

Top: Clearly, Artie and Gene did not watch the same evil, spoilery news story that I did before rocking up to see JP3 (Good work, boys! Better than me!) -
still, given that the Spinosaurus was front-and-centre on the movie logo, making any sort of wager on the outcome of the fight would be rather a silly thing to do!

Bottom: Another one of Gene’s Sugar High-llucinations? Yeh, let’s go with that.

My ‘movie stories’ proposal was a great idea, but it had one fatal flaw - I had so many other Cosmos strips to do, that were usually quicker and easier to complete; any
regular pattern of yearly movie critiques / promotions was lost (especially since I was already referencing so many other things anyway, in my regular strips). More often
than not, I couldn’t find enough snarky things to say about a particular movie that hadn’t already been said, or I ran out of steam halfway through; or by the time I got around
to doing a story, it was long past the time when the movie was the ‘latest must-see thing’! In fact, in the Old-School era, I only did four further ‘movie stories’ after this one -
one for the first Hulk movie (2003), ones for Star Wars: Episode 3 and King Kong (2005), and one for the first Bay-splosion Transformers movie (2007). Stories for Star Wars:
Episode 2
, Cloverfield and the ensuing Transformers sequels didn’t make it past the sketches stage, and any others I considered were either passed by or dealt with in
basic nerd-reference format whenever I dang well felt like it. Shackling myself to a schedule of I-have-to-do-this-story-just-because-it’s-there wasn’t go to do anything
than drive me nuts.... so I just went with what worked. And look at that! It did!


by Cartoonist_at_Large

Cosmos: Old School (2001) - part nineteen

What would the internet be without its ubiquitous canopy of cat pictures? Considerably smaller, less cute and much, much less interesting, I’d wager - but luckily
for you lovers of online felines, my next selection of Old School strips just happens to feature Cosmos’ resident Felis constrictus, Murphington T. Catt, the Third! Murph
allows me to get a ‘pet’s-eye view’ of the inanities (and insanities) of suburban life: given that he is generally restricted to the confines of Gene’s property -
unless it’s Vet-Day,  Newton is dragging him off on an ‘epic quest’, or the Dog Next Door has chased him down the street - Murph must entertain himself indoors
or in the garden. Which usually means getting up to mischief, testing the boundaries of the pet-owner relationship (both Gene and Murph believe they belong in the
latter category, obviously), or just being a layabout couch potato. Just like a regular cat’s week, then....

Top: how does one scratch that troublesome itch when has no hands? Murph has three options - rub up against something, use the flexible (if imprecise) tip of his tail....
or rely on the dexterous digits of that bipedal oaf he deigns fit to share the premises with him. Very obliging, those bipedal oafs.

Bottom: remember two of the Rules of Humour I detailed in my last blog entry? ‘If you can say it in five words, don’t say it in twenty’, and ‘Let your artwork do the talking’?
Here’s a strip that combines both of them -  it certainly doesn’t need any extra dialogue to make sense (or be funny), and the visuals are just the right level of ludicrous;
especially given that both Artie and the audience’s expectations are so abruptly subverted in panel three....

Above: Tail Chasing 101, part two. Murph’s whippy, snake-like body is ideally suited to the rigors of his chosen sport, since he can easily bend his body into a smooth
circle and then whirl around like a fly-wheel, in the never-ending pursuit of his foe. Dizziness? Potential humiliation? Fah. When he manages to sneak up on his tail
unawares, and actually catches it, though? Well.... the second strip on this page earned a comedic shudder and a ‘Waauuugh, that’s just wrong....’ from my friend
Jeremy; which I consider to be a complement of the highest order where Cosmos is concerned!

Top: Sometimes, much like Hobbes the tiger from Calvin and Hobbes, Murph decides to stalk and capture much more dangerous and active household prey than his tail....
which, as we can see here, rarely ends well for anyone concerned. Ouch.

Bottom: then, of course, there’s his blatant disregard for the well-being of unattended (and, therefore, unguarded) captive sources of food - in Murph’s world, rules are
things that can be bent, broken or out-and-out ignored as his whims dictate. After all, if he’s hungry, then he needs food; and if he needs food, and there’s some Right
There, then surely logic dictates he should eat it, right?

Top: psychological warfare, cat-snake style. This strip is also (insert another plug to my last blog entry here) a prime example of the ‘Rule of Three’ principle - Gene is irritated
in panel one, attempting to maintain his composure in panel two, but finally blowing his stack in panel three; allowing the gag to smoothly transition to the
denouement / punchline in panel four without everything overstaying its welcome.

Bottom: one wonders how Murph managed to actually build his scrap metal exo-suit without any hands to hold the tools.... until we remember that his somewhat-prehensile
tail would serve the purpose quite nicely (as he has used it as a surrogate limb in a number of Cosmos strips before and since). Either that, or he had Newton there to help
him out - just remember to share the spoils of your victory, Mr. Catt!

Top: Murph, in the most literal sense of the word, clearly likes to play with his food. And there’s that pesky Rule of Three again! You’ve had your time!
Let some other rule have a go! Shoo! Shoo!

Bottom: what is it with cats and balls of yarn? Where, in fact, did the whole feline / knitting material dynamic come from? Does history record some sort of mythical
‘first contact’ event, deep in the antediluvian past; when the primitive ancestors of cats and yarns began their utterly adorable Dance of Death? Unfortunately, Murph
seems to have forgotten that this relationship can go both ways.... Those fuzzy balls have defense mechanisms like you wouldn’t believe!

Top: I’m not sure whether Murph is exaggerating about the Dog Next Door’s predatory prowess - especially in panel four, which smacks a little of me fishing for a good
punchline, but having to go with what I had - but there’s no doubt (based on my own encounters with large and unpleasant canines here on Earth) that he is a palpable
threat to anything that sits still long enough to be folded, spindled and mutiliated. Or, no doubt, anything that dares NOT to sit still....

Bottom: one of the untold tales of Cosmos Past I really must address at some point, is how exactly Murph and Newton first met; let alone became such staunch allies.
Cat-rodent relationships in cartoons are in the main antagonistic (Tom and Jerry, Garfield and Squeak the Mouse, Itchy and Scratchy), so their fast friendship - as Correctly
pointed out by Newton himself - is rather anomalous. There must be some incident in their pasts which first brought them together, and then bound them together; but what?
Er, watch this space. Speaking of anomalous, though, Newton is clearly still going though his ‘Character design identity crisis’ phase: he has lost his belly-stripes
(since 2001, Part 2), but he still has his stripy tail (also present in 2001, Part 11) and - Jeez Louise, 2001-Jon! - possesses four-fingered hands instead
of his proper three-fingered ones!


by Cartoonist_at_Large

Monday Bonus: handy hints for writing (and drawing) humour!

I am by no means an expert on the subject of prose constructivisation - not having any formal qualifications directly related to writing, nor any best-selling novels -
but I have been putting pen (and pencil) to paper for quite some time now; so surely I have some useful insights on the creation of effective visual and written humour,
right? Either that, or I can simply present unto you a sprawling, incoherent semi-narrative that will astound, baffle and perplex you for all the wrong reasons.... and make you
late for that big 9:30 meeting you were supposed to be preparing for, which you haven’t done because this blog rivetted your attention like some slow-motion car crash.

Well, whichever’s good.

In no particular order, here are fifteen(ish) hints and tricks that will allow you too to stun the unwary:

1) If you can’t make fun of yourself, you have no right to make fun of other people. Mad Magazine does it. The Simpsons do it. Hey, I just did it in my opening paragraph!
Being able to acknowledge (and make light of) your own quirks and foibles every now and again is A) fun, B) therapeutic, and C) a good sign to everyone else that
you don’t take yourself too seriously.

2) When writing a gag or pithy piece of dialogue, be succinct: if you can say it in five words, you don’t need to say it in twenty.

3) Related to the above, unless you WANT to kill your joke stone dead, don’t nail a long-winded, clunky explanation onto it in an effort to make people ‘understand it’.
They either get the joke, or they don’t; simple as that. If you’ve done it properly, the joke should be able to stand on its own without the academic equivalent of
‘Huh? Huh? Get it? Get It?!’

4) Also related to the above, don’t treat your audience as if they’re stupid, and therefore need to be spoon-fed every little detail (‘cause you’ll very rapidly
end up with no audience), and

5) Don’t dumb down a perfectly good joke simply because one person DOESN’T get it - or, worse yet, peppers you with impractical, misinformed suggestions on how to
‘make it easier for people like me to understand it’. All that will do is ensure that NOBODY will find it funny, no even the ‘people like me’s’. Valid, constructive criticisms?
Great, take notice of them. But if all you can see is your joke bloating into a giant, unreadable mess, steer well clear of that path paved with good intentions....

6) Remember the ‘Rule of Three’ in both pictures and prose - for whatever ambiguous reason, running gags are funniest if you serve them up in groups of three.
Any more than that, and they lose all their momentum, stop being funny, and start being annoying.

7) Let your artwork do the talking: if the pictures in your comic strip provide your audience with as much information as the text (or even more, if you’re lucky), then
that’s half the job done for you. Save that epic five-paragraph description of the guy falling into the swimming pool for your novel, or something.

8) Take a beat - having a dialogue-free panel where the characters pause to consider what they have seen, heard or are thinking (or they have simply been stunned
into silence BY any of the above) can greatly aid the pacing of a story / gag, to say nothing of underlining how significant the comment or event is!

9) Don’t be absurd simply for the sake of being absurd - have some method to your madness, and be able to justify all the crazy stuff going on within the context of the story.
Yeh, okay, so a giant eggplant has just crashed through the ceiling: does it add anything to the story, or does it simply yank all the attention AWAY from the story?

10) Use humour to make weighty subject matter (like, say, something scientific) more understandable, more accessible and more interesting - make them
laugh and make them think at the same time.

11) Do your homework - read stuff by funny people. Terry Pratchett, James Roberts, Douglas Adams, Bill Watterson, that snarky blog about contemporary politics;
whoever. Figure out not only what about their work makes you laugh (Puns? Biting social commentary? Clever word-play and descriptions? In-jokes?), but also WHY.
Write notes. Figure out your own comedic voice. Run free!

12) If you think of a great joke or a killer piece of dialogue, WRITE IT DOWN RIGHT AWAY. Don’t think ‘Yehh, I’ll just remember it and write it down later’.... Because no.
No, you won’t. Especially the dialogue one - frantically trying to remember the exact wording that you heard or thought of eight hours after the fact, is the surest sign that
your brilliant joke is about to fall to pieces in your hands....

13) You can’t force a dud joke to be funny - either put it to one side and come back to it later, or just junk it and move on to the next one.
If it ain’t workin’, it ain’t workin’.

14) Follow the ‘Two of Six’ rule proposed by Dilbert creator Scott Adams in his book The Joy of Work: combine two or more of the key elements
of humour (cuteness, meanness, bizarreness, recognizability, naughtiness, cleverness) in various combinations to generate a near-infinite
number of jokes on virtually any subject.

15) Facial expressions and body language. That’s all I’m going to say. Facial expressions. And body language.

by Cartoonist_at_Large

Cosmos: Old School (2001) - part eighteen

Toward the end of 2001, colour comics were an exceedingly rare beast, limited solely to Sunday strips - and even then, a Sunday strip in colour showed up a grand total
of hardly ever, anyway. There were, in fact, exactly four further colour strips produced at the tail end of the year; two of which are presented here for the first time.... along
with a couple of other tasty treats. Because let’s face it, an installment of Cosmos: Old School with only two comics would be a bit of a rip-off, wouldn’t it?

Above: this definitely feels like one of those ‘I came up with this at Four AM in the morning while groggy and delusional’ ideas, because how else can you explain such a
completely whacked-out scenario? It’s a little convoluted and quite dialogue-heavy, but the increasing escalation of weirdness (culminating in Gene’s defeated “Same ol’,
same ol’....” in the final panel) make the whole thing work superbly - in whatever strange parallel universe this sort of thing is considered ‘superb’ and not ‘grounds for institutionalization’. The Type Four Cosmosian in panel two, has to win the award for ‘Greatest disproportion in nasal accouterments’.... that nose is huge!

Above: I vaguely remember these strips possibly being the intended start of a longer story / series of strips - but I can’t be sure of that, so don’t quote me. Despite Artie’s
rather roly-poly shape, he does in fact enjoy the benefits of  regular physical exercise.... rather more so than Gene, whose idea of a ‘good workout’ involves an extended
session on the X-Box. We can see this contrast very clearly in the first strip, obviously.... The second strip, meanwhile, features an unexpected cameo by The Dog Next Door
(last seen in 2000, Part thirteen), who - as demonstrated here - doesn’t limit his canine depredations to Murph and Newton: he is an equal-opportunities terroriser, mauling
anyone regardless of race, colour, creed or species classification! And is simply amazes me that Artie can tie a bandana around his forehead and somehow
have it go BEHIND his eyes!

Above: this is one of those strips that would definitely end up on a ‘Top Ten’ list of Cosmos comics - the build-up, the impending sense of mayhem, the sudden
reversal and the subsequent payoff are carried off perfectly by Artie and Gene. There’s no wasted dialogue, either, which makes it all work so well from a writing
standpoint, too.... I don’t make ‘em like this anymore!

Above: inspired by Mad Magazine, this is a full-page parody of the comic book subscription ads common to Marvel, DC (and most other) comics in the 1980’s and 1990’s;
which I created - as far as I can recall - late in 2001. I piled on the in-jokes here, lampooning as many aspects of these ads as I could think of: the hyperbolic text, the offers
of free gifts, the raft of spin-offs that comic companies do of their best-selling tales (earning them more money while simultaneously over-exposing and devaluing their
characters; clearly a winning combination).... and, of course, the fine print that nobody ever reads because Wow Cheap Comics!!!!!!! The first seven titles on the ‘subscription
list’ are projects that I worked on, planned out or just considered during the late 1990’s and early 2000’s - but out of all of them, only Cosmos has made it to the present day.
Well, they do say the good stuff always rises to the top, so....


by Cartoonist_at_Large

Cosmos: Old School (2001) - part seventeen

Well, I was going to put in a ‘Last time on Cosmos: Old School’ recap-summary-reminder-thing here, but I see that 2001-Jon has already done it for me!
Way to plan ahead, Dude! Thanks!

And now that that’s over and done with....

Top: The Dimensionauts find themselves intersecting the main plot of Episode One yet again - and is that ‘Duel of the Fates’ you can hear? Yes, indeed! Darth Morton wanted
to butt into the big Obi-Wan / Qui-Gon / Darth Maul throwdown, and maybe - just maybe! - he’s not as much of a loser as Artie and Gene thought he was! I was originally going
to have Morty’s lightsabre activated in panel four.... until I realised the blade would completely block the battle visible through the doorway, kind of defeating the purpose of
the whole thing. Oh, man, if I had some sort of reality-hacking machine, I would definitely insert Artie, Gene and Morty into the backgrounds of various shots, in the original
theatrical release of Episode One; just to confuse the heck out of everyone....

Bottom: So why do we not see Darth Morton in the movie, during the above battle (aside from the obvious reasons)? Because the action keeps focusing on Maul and crew,
and he’s perpetually juuuuust out of shot, struggling to keep up, that’s why! See, completely within continuity! And, rather conveniently, Darth Maul DOES fall off an elevated
walkway at one point in the fight, slamming into the floor beneath - and who says he didn’t smush Morty flat on impact? No-one, that’s who! It all fits together, you see?!

Above: A study in contrasts - the first strip has an excellent balance between the amount of text (and therefore exposition) that was needed, and the resulting amount
of space available for the artwork: in this instance, more than enough to show what’s going on. The fourth panel’s a little busy, but given that it’s a battle scene, that’s
excusable. The second strip, however (despite me maxing out the height of the panels on that page), really had the (original, hand-written) dialogue at loggerheads with
the detailed artwork; meaning retyping it was an absolute priority to stop them canceling each other out. Artie’s dialogue in panel one, in particular, was extremely messy
and hard to read - in those pre-Adobe software days, the only way to fix this would have been to rewrite the text on a separate square of paper and physically glue it over
the top.... and even then, there’d be no guarantee it would any more legible....

The ‘Phantom Edit’ of Star Wars: Episode One may have re-cut the space battle sequence to make Anakin Skywalker’s actions more deliberate and purposeful - but as
far as I’m concerned, the only reason he managed to blow up the pilot reactors in the first place.... was because Artie and Gene (conveniently just off-screen) gave his
missiles clear passage to reach them! Proud of you, boys.

Top: Of course, where’s a spur-of-the-moment plan without a few complications? If a whole platoon of Battle Droids had shown up at that point, Artie and Gene would have
been done for, but just one? Yeh, they can handle that. Their opponent seems awfully articulate for a mass-produced, disposable soldier, though - and he lasts the
entirety of his appearance without saying ‘Roger Roger!’ That’s got to be some sort of record, right there....

Bottom: I can imagine a frantically-paced ‘expanded scene’ of Anakin goofin’ around in his Naboo star fighter on the Trade Federation war-cruiser, intercut with Artie
and Gene struggling with the Battle Droid as they repeatedly smack the ‘open’ and ‘close’ buttons for the blast doors Three Stooges-style.... crescendo-ing, obviously,
with the above explosion. Self-indulgent? Sure, but who cares? It’d be fun....

Top: The comic strip equivalent, I guess, of the time-worn ‘false hero death’ movie trope; wherein the hero has supposedly fallen off a cliff / been consumed by an
explosion / been carried by a flood / whatever, and his co-stars are standing there in shock thinking ‘Oh my God, he can’t be dead noooooo....’ Only to have him / her struggle
out of the wreckage relatively unharmed, to the tune of an upswelling of triumphant music. And stuff. Only mine has lots of exposition, recapping and dramatic hyperbole.... Groan.

Bottom: I’m a little concerned that Artie appears to be handling Gene’s Home Entertainment Augmenticator while it’s still plugged in.... and spitting sparks all over the place.
Seems a little unsafe there, Mr. Deacon.... Still, given his legitimately-sanctioned bad mood in the aftermath of their near extinction, I can only assume he’s simply over it
by now, electrocution be damned. Gene’s ominous realisations in panel three were (from memory) supposed to leave the story open for a sequel of some sort; presumably
with Morty using the Magic Remote to break free of the Wars-Verse and wreak havoc on Cosmos - either on his own or by teaming up with some other home-grown
villain (Big Bob Vader, anyone?). Unfortunately, what with one thing and another, the idea never got any further, and I went on to other, different stories (I even did a regular
‘going to the movies’ story for Star Wars: Episode Two which never materialised either, if I remember rightly). Darth Morton is still out there, but as to what he’s doing?
Who knows....