The small press/”alternative” comics world is in mourning this week — and will remain so, frankly, for some time to come — due to the tragic recent passing of Mark Campos, and while I didn’t know Mark “personally” beyond some social media interaction over the years, I enjoyed our brief conversations, as well as his work, and I know that he was one of the unheralded “glue guys” who held the scene (particularly the Seattle scene) together, and whose influence and mentoring helped others who came along after him more fully realize their own cartooning potential. His death definitely leaves a big void in the community, and there are a lot of heavy hearts out there, so it only seemed fitting to tip my own hat to him before delving into my weekly “wrap” column. For a more thorough tribute by those who knew him far better than I, head…

One could advance a pretty strong argument that Tom Van Deusen is the funniest cartoonist in America today — but, as with anyone whose humor hits a bit too close to home, his stuff is certain to offend disparate constituencies.

On the one hand, anyone whose hyper-sensitivity outstrips their common sense to the extent that they take him literally will think he’s a racist, misogynistic, self-absorbed pig of the lowest order — after all, apart from his early-2017 effort, I Wish I Was Joking, wherein he (successfully) experimented with making his “autobiographical” stand-in likable for change, that’s precisely how he’s always portrayed “Tom Van Deusen.”  On the other, though, the minute some “MAGA” fuckhead were to realize that he’s actually aiming a sharply — and deservedly — accusatory finger at the very same mental toxicity he’s ascribing to “himself,” well, they’d probably end up feeling as butt-hurt as the…

Pretty much fuck-all worthy of note hit comic shops this week, but that’s okay, yours truly received a nice selection of stuff in the mail from parts far and wide, certainly more than enough to keep me out of trouble, but for my Round-Up this week I thought I’d concentrate on some stuff that came my way courtesy of Kelly Froh and Max Clotfelter. I’m going to resist the urge to slap the label of “First Couple of Seattle Underground Comics” on these two, since similarly unimaginative (and, to them at least, I’m sure, cringe-worthy) titles have no doubt been bestowed upon them in the past, and instead I’ll just go the more modest route of saying that there’s a hell of a lot of cartooning talent in their household and I was most grateful for the wares they sent me a few days back. Let’s have a look —

Senior…

It’s something, isn’t it? Sometimes a mere 28 pages can make you feel all kinds of ways.

Such is the case with Pascal Girard’s Apartment Number Three, an unassuming-on-its-surface little number that took a long and circuitous route to getting where it is today (which, “spoiler” alert as to where this review is going, should be right into your hands as soon as possible), starting life as 24-hour comic in 2010 before being re-drawn, polished up, and published in French (I’ve included a page in its original language with this review just because, hey, why not?) by Montreal’s Colosse the following year, and finally landing an English translation/re-publication at the tail end of last year courtesy of John Porcellino’s Spit and a Half. Whew!

Gotta say that it was all worth it, though, and that its complex and time-consuming path traveled is proof positive that quality material will always…

There must be something in the water out in Missoula, Montana.

David Lynch hails from there originally, after all — and so does Theo Ellsworth, one of the most intriguing, challenging, mind-bending, and frankly skilled cartoonists around these days. The detailed intricacy of his illustrations is testament to that fact, but it’s the underlying intent running through them — the deep and abiding sense that this is stuff he desperately needs to purge from his subconscious, through his hand, onto paper — that sets Ellsworth’s work apart from that of his contemporaries. There are visions that plague this guy’s mind, and I’m sure he’s grateful to have found an outlet for expressing them.

Shit, I know I’m grateful that he has, and I’m just a humble reader. But Ellsworth’s comics take me places. Dark, haunted, amorphous, undefinable places. Vistas of beauty and bewilderment, where “steady footing” stands definitively revealed as…

Fair enough, Ales Kot and Danijel Zezelj’s new Image Comics 12-parter, Days Of Hate, is set at some unspecified (though we know it’s post-2020) future date, but who the hell are we kidding? The story (or “chapter,” as the back cover would have it) title of this debut issues is “America First,” so that pretty much tells you all you need to know right there. In case you’re unsure as to the (entirely justified) target of these creators’ wrath, though,  some overly-expository dialogue over the course of the opening pages makes it clear, and after that any MAGA douchebag still reading has only themselves to blame if their blood pressure goes up a few points. This is obviously a dystopian, nationalist, fascist future with its roots very firmly in the present day. I like most of Kot’s other work (although his most intriguing project, Material, was abandoned at…

I’m trying, I really am, but Henriette Valium’s 2016 Conundrum Press-published, oversized (9 x 14, to be specific), hardback collection, The Palace Of Champions, confounds me at every turn. And yes, I do mean that as a compliment.

For one thing, it’s essentially impossible to discern where one strip “ends” in this book and another “begins,” but maybe that doesn’t really matter, because it’s not exactly easy to puzzle out what’s even happening in any given panel, let alone on an entire page. Valium’s illustrations are loaded with information — hell, worlds of it — and seem to operate outside the realms of time, space, and logic, to the point where they may even render such concepts outmoded at best, if not downright meaningless. Assaulting your eyeballs and sense of reason with equal gusto, Valium takes elements of old-school underground comix “ugly art,” occult and Kabbalistic diagrams, and…

It’s just as well, I think, that pretty much nothing of any interest hit comic store shelves this week, because the other day I received a package from Latvian publisher Kus! (pronounced “Kush,” if you’re wondering) containing their latest “four-pack” of minis, and every single one of these deserves some attention. We’re gonna give them just that, but first, the particulars —

For those either not, or only vaguely, in the know, Kus! has been at it for just over ten years now, producing unique, top-quality, idiosyncratic comics from the best talent, both established and emerging, from around the globe, and their Mini Kus! line is no exception. Forget what you know, in fact, about the production values for standard mini-comics, as these are each 24 pages in length, printed in full and lavish color on superb paper between heavy-duty, cardstock covers. Production values simply don’t come any better than…