A Review of a New Graphic Novel

Not many are familiar with the work of the mysterious artist, Brian Zero, who for several years has been laboring behind the scenes of the now-burgeoning graphic-novel phenomenon. Previous to the publication of his most recent work, “Little Specks of Nothing”, every publisher the artist approached consistently rejected his work. Yet, he has carried on, producing cartoon strips and comic books of unyielding vacuity. Starting with “The Potato Chronicles”, his earliest work, and moving quickly on through his several subsequent efforts, the reader is struck by the utter lack of humor, meaningful content or artistic skill. Mr. Zero seems intent on resisting even the occurrence of the occasional artistic accidents which can be interpreted as evidence of possible talent and which other, less mediocre artists have seized upon as useful in constructing their careers. Among the subjects tackled over the years by this artist have been root vegetables, pocket-change, clock-faces, doorknobs, shoe-laces, paperweights, lint, and dust, all rendered in the ultra-spare style which he favors and which finds it’s nadir in his latest work. With “Little Specks of Nothing”, the artist has finally stripped his art down to it’s purest form, in which he finds actual drawing and writing completely superfluous, providing the reader with only the barest of clues to decipher his dubious intent. As this reviewer scanned the seemingly unending flow of empty or near-empty panels of Mr. Zero‘s opus, he was overcome with a trance-like state of mind akin to the effects of primitive lobotomy or, no doubt in this case, merely extreme ennui.

One is surprised by the heft of this 4oo-plus page coffee-table tome, given it’s apparent lack of content, yet it’s weight is sufficient to cause injury when accidentally dropped on one’s toe, as was the case with this reviewer, who inadvertently drifted off during his perusal of the book, which slipped, both metaphorically and physically, from his grasp.

This is a title worth noting if for no other reason than to avoid unnecessary pain.

Hello, my name is… Well, currently I have no name. I’m a professional cartoon character looking for work. I’ve so far only appeared briefly in a couple of rough drawings depicting doctor’s offices. In one, I was the patient, in the other, a doctor. The problem was, neither of these ideas went anywhere. The artist couldn’t come up with anything, and the drawings disappeared into that overflowing waste-basket next to his desk. I don’t know if I’ll be called upon again or not. I would naturally love to get work in a published drawing for a change.

If you happen to be in the market for a versatile cartoon character, I might be just what you’re looking for. Here are a few examples from my extensive repertoire of characters:

And more!

I hope you can find a spot for me in your next cartoon.

Meanwhile, I’ve got a job on this guy’s blog.
It’s not much, but at least I’m working.

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I’ve been busy down at Rest Haven, here in Saint Augustine. My Uncle Spike has been causing trouble there and they called me to come and have a talk with him, which I have to do from time to time. Somehow, he gained access to the computer room and started making movies. He got one online before they could stop him. Somehow he got it posted on Nona Appleby’s Blog. They’ve got him locked up again and back on his meds, no harm done. Meanwhile, my work schedule has been interrupted, hence my late blog entry. Sorry. I promise to be on time next week.

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I’ve held off talking about this for a long time but I feel the time has come to broach the subject…

I’m talking about the unfortunate but common perception of the cartoonist as a mere sex-object!

Cartooning is a serious art-form, concerned with the important issues of our time and the complex enigmas of Life. The heartbreaking isolation of the individual within human society as exemplified by the lonely cartoon character on the desert island or in the office cubicle, the imperfect attempts and occasional successes of the hunt for love between men and women, men and men, women and women, dogs and cats; The complexities of human politics, from the business office to the oval office, from the bathroom to the throne-room; The very evolution of our species, as we crawl from the dark, ancient seas toward the light of our giant TV screens!

And yet, there are those who insist on overlooking the cartoonist’s noble efforts in service to Humankind and see only the superficial attractiveness of our physical assets.

Granted, we cartoonists tend to be extremely good-looking individuals. In a way, I can’t blame the fawning masses for being aware of our exceptional beauty, but, damn it, I wish they would focus on our work and not our bodies! I’m sick of spending my time turning down offers of marriage or other indecent proposals which serve no purpose other than to distract me from my true calling, directing the light of humor into the dark recesses of our imperfect reality!

And another thing: These emails must stop. I don’t know where Rosey, Cuddles, Babycakes, and those other women have obtained my email address. They all seem very unoriginal, according to their messages, which always start out with a variation on the words, “Hello. I am very lonely tonight…”. I’m sorry ladies, but I never read any further and immediately send your missives to my junk-email folder, so you might as well give up.

Well, I’ve gone on long enough. The tanning-bed calls and I must go. Eventually, of course, I’ll get back to the drawing-board.