http://www.gregadunn.com/print.html

From Dunn’s bio:

I enjoy Asian art. I particularly love minimalist scroll and screen painting from the Edo period in Japan. I am also a fan of neuroscience. Therefore, it was a fine day when two of my passions came together upon the realization that the elegant forms of neurons (the cells that comprise your brain) can be painted expressively in the Asian sumi-e style. Neurons may be tiny in scale, but they posess the same beauty seen in traditional forms of the medium (trees, flowers, and animals).I admire the Japanese, Chinese, and Korean masters because of their confidence in simplicity. I try to emulate this idea.

When I’m not doing this I’m working on a doctorate in neuroscience at the University of Pennsylvania, to which I give a thumbs up.

Thanks for visiting.

http://www.gregadunn.com/print.html

Visit Dunn’s website and check out more of this amazing visual art at http://www.gregadunn.com.

A minority of those I speak with about comics are in an uproar over the reboot. They’re destroying well-established relationships, eliminating characters, eradicating entire timelines and histories. Barbara Gordon? She never got shot, she never became oracle, and she never transformed into an astoundingly poignant portrayal of disability in superhero comics. Dick Grayson? The man was never robin, but somehow still became Nightwing. Powergirl? Well, that one never existed at all. All of the characters have huge fan bases. I fall quite squarely into the camp who should be upset over PG. Much of the storytelling power comes from the rich well of stories already told in DC’s universe. An extra panel portraying a longing look between two characters can be full of emotion and lay the groundwork for undertones to be expounded upon years into the future. All of this, thrown away.

But, I don’t fall into either of these camps. I’m just tired. I’m only in my mid-20’s, and I still fall below the average reader age for comic books, but I’m already exhausted. DC has worn me down. I’ve last track of the number of times the universe was restructured, rebooted, or significantly altered since I was born. It all started with Crisis on Infinite Earths, and since then DC has rarely been able to get it right and let it stick. Zero Hour started out well enough, but revealed itself as the ultimate Deus ex Machina, taking not just a god out of the machine, but an entire new universe. In the 2000’s, DC got frank about its propensity to restructure, labeling its events Countdown, Infinite Crisis, and Final Crisis, a pattern first launched with Identity Crisis. Event comics boost sales, sure, but there’s a cost. They wear down readership.

DC’s rebooting their universe and the only thing I can say is that I don’t care. I know — it’s easy to say “meh” and put an air of superiority, but that’s not it, either. I’m excited for a new Justice League International with Booster Gold front and center. I’m upset that Power Girl is going away. But the major event titles? They’re rarely good stories, and they don’t really need to be. Writers for those titles get handed plots from editors and creative direction people. They have specific problems to solve and they need to do it with big explosions and “Power Level 9,000″ fights. Earth Prime Superboy doesn’t sustain an ounce of character because he’s littler more than a multiverse hammer, punching new characters into re-existence from the folds of a crystal between universes. That’s been the problem all along: in trying to streamline and simplify their universe(s), DC instead complicates their world and confuses new readers (”What? Multiverse? Earth Primer Superboy? Is that different?”).

The latest reboot admits defeat. They’re not going to try to use an event to fix their problems. They’re just going to throw all the bath water out the window, Kryptonian baby and all. And you know, they may just get it right this time. Without a big event, and without any convoluted need for explanation, DC may be getting to the core what an effective reboot should be: putting good writers and artists on the titles they want to produce, and just letting them tell the story they want. For some of their readers, however, it may be too late. There are decades of good stories already written, and I don’t need to roll the dice on them by picking them up week to week. I can buy the trade, and I think from now on, that may just be all I ever buy.

Think back to high school when dressing up became “cool again.” Who were the kids who dressed up the most? In my experience, it was the popular kids (sexy nurses), the theater kids (ghostbusters), and the emo kids (vampires). In other words, it was all the kids who were crying the most for attention. They understood the point of dressing up at Halloween: shameless attention grabbing. Their costumes were revealing, over-the-top, or witty, for the sole purpose of getting other kids to say, “oh hey, you put in a lot of work,” or “wow, that’s so smart.” The point of the costume was to bring the focus onto the person wearing it. These motives don’t really change much during the college years, either. During Halloween, costuming becomes a competition for the most eyeballs: your costume has to be super witty (dudes) or super revealing (babes). Anything less will garner nothing more than an “oh, that’s who you are, okay.” And then you might as well be standing there in jeans and a t-shirt holding your red plastic party cup.

So what’s so damn different about costuming at a Con? Pretty much everything. To start with, there’s the motivation. Dressing up at a con isn’t about getting attention on yourself, it’s about the experience. When you cosplay there, you add to the atmosphere of the event. You put yourself out there for pictures with plainclothes people and kids. Think of the difference this way: when you cosplay, your biggest hope is that other people will be a fan of the same character and they’ll want a picture or to say hello; what you’re aiming for is the chance to give somebody that opportunity. You’re not out there to be the wittiest or most intricate SDCC cosplayer, you’re out there to add to the experience of the event. Consider also that during a con, it’s not a competition. The overweight guy wearing blue jeans and a leather jacket with a ton of hair gel and some glued-on claws is just as welcome as the toned guy in yellow spandex with hydraulic-powered fully-retractable claws. There’s no fighting for attention. With all the booths, panels, and professionals there, it doesn’t even matter how good your costume is, nobody’s getting full attention. Without the underlying element of competition, cosplaying becomes simply about having fun and being able to give others the experience of “Oh sick! Somebody dressed up as The Guardian! I need a picture!”

5. Barcelona, Spain
The thing you need to know about Barcelona is that it’s simultaneously very much a Spanish city and very much a Mediterranean city. Like hot inland towns, Barcelona closes down in the middle of the day, but stays awake late into the night. It’s an active, vibrant city with an incredible amount to see and do. You can lounge on the beach and admire some of the most beautiful people in Europe, or you can schlep around the city taking in the incredible architecture (Though still unfinished, Gaudi’s Sagrada Familia is one of the most incredible things I’ve ever seen). Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Barcelona is the culinary home to my favorite dish of all time, Paella.

4. Kauai, Hawaii
For many years, my parents owned a timeshare on the island of Kauai. We’d go just about every other year, and I never grew tired of it. I’m told that of all the islands, Kauai is the least overtly tourist-driven. I can say that it certainly is the most beautiful, without having even seen any of the others. White sandy beaches are there in abundance, sure. However, Kauai offers a lot more: Waimea Canyon is simply striking (the “Grand Canyon of the Pacific” on such a small island), and the Na Pali Coast will take your breath away. Oh yeah, this is also the place where they’ve filmed movies like Jurassic Park and Indiana Jones, so there’s no shortage of lush, green jungle.

3. Jackson, Wyoming
I suppose I’m cheating here a little bit. The town of Jackson, quaint diners and nice people aside, isn’t really so remarkable. What’s remarkable is the Grand Teton National Park that completely surrounds the town. When you’re in the middle of the town, you’re standing in a valley between the largest mountains on the continent. I mean, look! Plus, it’s an incredible drive to get there.

2. Chicago, Illinois
The Greatest American City, it is! A lot of people who have never been to California are in love Los Angeles, and lot of people who come from sleepy towns are wooed by New York City’s insomnia. But, if you want a huge, vibrant city that’s populated by normal people, go to Chicago. Have you ever moved somewhere and though, “Man, I love this new city, but I wish I could bring all of my friends here with me?” You’ll never have that thought in Chicago — all the people are friendly and welcoming. There’s no defensive sense of “get the hell out of MY city!” Plus, for my money, Chicago’s got the best skyline in America.

1. Heidelberg, Germany
Bet you never saw this one coming — a German City. It’s not a huge city (only about 150,000), and its resident castle isn’t in fabulously preserved condition (in fact, it’s quite obviously in ruin). It’s quaint, European, and not pretentious. Tourists forget about Heidelberg, even though it’s an old city with a deep history. In Germany, Heidelberg is known as the city for lovers. It’s beautiful, and the entire city feels cozy. Narrow walkways are everywhere, and people are extremely friendly. And the university! I don’t think my imagination could design a more beautiful school. Seriously, if you’re ever in Europe at all, make a stop in Heidelberg, even if just for a day or two. Send me a postcard.

Only, the comic book industry is unique in that even with all it has going for it in the brick-and-mortar realm, shops are struggling to get by, small publishers are closing up shop left and right, and creative decisions are becoming more and more business-driven. Unlike music or books, the comic industry desperately needs digital distribution to be a success. An in-store comic book purchase will run you $3-$4, with a good chunk of that going to delivery, distribution, publication, and a fraction to the shop owner (who is likely the guy behind the counter). Profit margins are slim, and there’s little room for the price of a comic to go up (are you going to pay $8 for 40 pages of pictures?). Then consider what the publisher gets from digital distribution: there are no delivery trucks, there’s no ink, there’s no paper. There’s only $2 of profit going right to the publisher’s pocket. Pay the artist, pay the writer, keep the rest. This models opens up a new world for the publisher, and the possibility of a return to profitability. Not only are they going to get more income per sale, they’re going to bring in those buyers who were too lazy or otherwise unwilling to venture to a comic shop. It could bring in a whole new market.

The lingering question is whether or not comics will survive the digital threshold. With the move to digital distribution, comics instantly loses all the things that make it special as a piece of media. Though I could easily subscribe over mail to the comic books I read and get them delivered to my home like I could a magazine, I choose to stop by my local comic shop and get my titles. I choose to browse the shelves, and I choose to pick up impulse purchases. I choose to talk to the shop owner about the cool things they’ve read, and what other people are saying about what they’re reading. I choose to buy plastic protectors and cardboard inserts, so I can keep these comics over time — not as an investment, but as a treasure. Adopting digital media comics would force me to lose all of these things; frankly, things I don’t think I could enjoy comics without.

This past weekend Marvel Comics announced their iPad application, where the publisher seeks to sell digital copies of its comic books, retailing each issue at the cost of $1.99. The application also allows access to motion comics, like Bendis’s Spider-Woman. It’s a more complete multimedia experience. But it doesn’t have a storefront, and it doesn’t have a community of people you can talk to face-to-face about your mutual obsessions. While I have to root for the success of this model so that business like Marvel Comics can maintain their print publications and possibly return to profitability and make more decisions based on creative talent and direction instead of necessary profit, I don’t have to like it. I’d rather everybody who went and saw the superhero movies of the past decade go to their local comic book shop and pick up a subscription. But the future of comics just may march on without me.

The route. Click for link to Google Maps.

I’m taking my ‘92 vette and packing extra, extra light. I’ve got room for one more to sit next to me. Let me know if you want to come. Leave from Watsonville on March 27th and coming back in to San Jose on March 31st. That’s four days’ travel time and one day enjoying Portland (the point of the trip is the drive, not the destination). Anybody wanting to come along driving beside or behind me is perfectly welcome as well. More details to come, will be posted here.

Itinerary:

• Mar. 27, 9am – Breakfast in Watsonville at Beach Street Diner
• Mar. 27, 10am – Hit the Road!
• Mar. 27, 7:30pm – Stop & Find Lodging
• Mar. 28, 8am – Breakfast
• Mar. 28, 9am – Hit the Road!
• Mar. 28, 7:30pm – Arrive in Portland. Staying at Motel 6 in Vancouver, OR for $40/night (for the whole room)
• Mar. 29 – Spend the day seeing the town and drinking.
• Mar. 30, 9am – Breakfast
• Mar. 30, 10am – Hit the Road!
• Mar. 30, 7:30pm – Stop & Find Lodging
• Mar. 31, 8am – Breakfast
• Mar. 31, 9am – Hit the Road!
• Mar. 31, 7pm – Arrive in San Jose, CA
• Mar. 31, 8pm – Dinner at Malibu Grill & BBQ

I propose instead that a person should actively seek to modify their life during Ash Wednesday, and to make a change that affects who they are as a person for the better. Giving up laziness is a bit of an easy rewrite of a New Year’s resolution, but maybe eschewing the couch (or lounge chair) for forty days could change your lifestyle. Sure, that could work. But go a step further and look at the bad habits that envelop your personality. Maybe give up excuses, or forgo bigoted jokes. Refuse being awake during the hours from midnight to five a.m. Perhaps it could be something that, from the religious point of view, you should be doing anyway: have the restraint to deny yourself envy or hubris (”don’t get cocky, kid!”).

It’s in this light that I’m going to try to give up complaining for forty days and see how it goes. It doesn’t mean I can’t have an opinion, like in this article — I’m not complaining about Ash Wednesday. I’m simply saying that I think it could be so much more. What I can’t do is complain about my work, bitch about my boss, or whine about petty annoyances. Aside from nobody else wanting to hear that kind of stuff, I’m of the firm belief that my life will be better off if this habit sticks. If Ash Wednesday is your kind of gig, I encourage you to be a little bolder than the standard stock.

Note: I realize that Lent is a period of fasting on the liturgical calendar meant to mirror the period Jesus spent wandering the desert and reflects his resistance of the temptations of the devil. As such, it’s perhaps more traditional to give up indulgences related to sin. Combine this with the fact that it’s a fast and it becomes easy to see why people to give up a kind of food or drink. To my knowledge, however, there is nothing scripturally incorrect with the idea of fasting from behavior that wavers toward the sinful or indulgent.

Confronted with the problem of global warming (working logically under the assumption that global warming is in fact evident and true), multiple existing systems of ethics offer straight-forward reasoning for what is the ethically correct way to fix the problem. Utilitarianism will state that civilization and society must work to save humanity and the world. That we (Americans) ought to burden the labor of finding a solution because we are perhaps the best equipped to do so, and we should happily assume this burden even if it harms us, for it will bring the greatest good for the greatest people. The categorical imperative would command every living, self-aware human to immediately halt any action harmful to the environment. If it is the best thing for me, as an individual, to do, then it is the rule that we all should live by. Quite simply, the ends are evident but the logical means and methods differ. However, existing ethical schemes all call for the same thing: the reduction of waste, one way or another, by one group or another.

Humans are not so apt to living up to such ideals. We are lazy, selfish, and partly innately evil with our transference – somebody else will stop polluting; leave it to the hippies. The solution cannot be evident, but we will refuse to act until the situation is at its most dire and there is no longer an option. We will refuse to act until we can refuse and delay no longer. Only then will we find that spark of innovation and vigor that will save us and vault us forward as a people. This is the fundamental principle of Apocalyptic Ethics: that whichever creates the direst situation to necessitate innovation and vigor of the group is the correct action of the individual.

NYC, 2035(ish)

Apocalyptic Ethics posits that the solution to global warming is the continued ignorance of its heralds – that by further destroying what we have, we will be forced into a state where innovation, creation, and vigor are necessary for the continued existence of the human race. Historical examples of Apocalyptic Ethics already exist. Before joining the fight in World War I, America waited until Germany had conquered enough of Europe to make it clear that if resistance was not bolstered, Germany’s place as the dominant power on Earth would be all but assured. This was an action born of necessity. Further back, America refused to solve its regional tax, trade, and labor disputes until the final hour where vigor of the country was necessitated to maintain a complete union. Great triumph is born not out of careful, calculated scales of right and wrong. Nor is it born out of maxims and universal decrees of action. Salvation of humanity comes logically from its own self-inflicted doom. So then, the ethical “right” action of any individual is to more quickly bring about this salvation through continued “evil” action. Good is born of evil.