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The curious notion about free will, here in the real world, is that it is ultimately a question of faith. There simply is no way I can prove or disprove that my actions were or weren't preordained in some fashion. Even if I try to continue making last second decisions of, for example, what flavor milkshake to get, there's no way I can show that I wasn't always going to make that exact decision at that exact time. Regardless of what I normally would do, and regardless of what I felt at the exact moment of making the decision, it still amounts to a matter of whether or not I believe that I was fully in control of that decision. Was I making that decision for myself, or was some unseen force guiding my thought processes for some reason?

The problem we have, as mere mortals, is a lack of omniscience. We simply can't know anything beyond our immediate realm of experience. Even our learning from the experience of others is something that we have to undertake ourselves, whether by reading or listening or some other method of knowledge transfer. And even then, there's still the matter of interpretation -- the original experience is recounted to us in some manner by someone(s) who will invariably leave out some level of detail and we, in the process of absorbing the information, will process and filter it based on our own personal experiences. We cannot know, with any accuracy, what it's like to walk on the moon unless we actually go there ourselves.

In comics, however, many characters are granted a level of omniscience that is impossible for us to truly fathom. There's a certainty in Ignatz's or Sluggo's or She-Hulk's knowledge that they are, at the end of the day, drawings on a piece of paper. We don't have that luxury. For as much as you may know that God exists or doesn't, your certainty in that "fact" is just an act of faith. We don't have the actual knowledge because our creator/s (if indeed we even have them in the larger context -- I'm not talking about your parents here) have not imbued us with it in the way Windsor McCay might have done with Little Nemo. The act of creating a character -- a paper doll to pick up on Roeg's metaphor -- gives the creator the right to implant as much or as little knowledge into him/her as is appropriate. Reed Richards is a genius because Stan Lee said he was. Dr. Manhattan was omniscient because Alan Moore wanted him to be.

This, of course, can lead to what is considered bad writing. Can you imagine the uproar among fans if, for example, Commissioner Gordon asked Batman about how Alfred the butler was doing? The relationship between Batman and Alfred is one that Gordon should have no knowledge of because his character has never been given that information within the context of continuity. But a writer, being the unseen force behind that exchange, does have omniscience of that world and can give that specialized piece of knowledge to any character at any time. It wouldn't make sense within how the story is presented, in all likelihood, but it's still the creator's prerogative.

Of course, there's the rub. For any story that presents free will and/or existentialism as "correct" the characters in the story are following a prescribed destiny. For any knowledge that a character might possess about the nature of free will -- for that matter, any knowledge the character possesses at all -- they are inherently bound by the will of their creator(s). The paper dolls simply cannot exist, much less have any meaning, without someone to create them. You can say Kang chose to defy Destiny itself in Avengers Forever but Kang really didn't have any say in the matter; his course of actions were laid down by writers Kurt Busiek and Roger Stern. "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players."

Where does that leave us? That free will simply cannot exist because nothing we humans create is capable of it? Of course not. As noted earlier, we humans are stuck with limitations that make us decidedly less than all-powerful. Once upon a time, we couldn't create apples that tasted like grapes, either, but look where we are now. Who's to say that creating independent, free will characters is that far off? Wasn't that part of the reason why Phineas Horton created the original Human Torch? Why Noonien Soong created Data? Why Sivasubramanian Chandrasegarampillai created HAL 9000?

(As a curious aside, all those characters I just cited were used, in part, to explore the very notion of self. Is a being's own quest for life's meaning sufficient to consider it "alive"? Is life and a sense of self strictly limited to biological organisms? Does the origin of one's existence truly impact whether or not one can have free will?)

Man's quest for life's meaning is, for all intents and purposes, perpetual. Every day, we wake up and try to muddle our way through life, acting on a nearly infinite number of judgment calls. The next day, we do the same thing. Comics -- and, indeed, any media -- can show us possible alternatives that other people have considered; they can pass along messages about what other people think life means. They can go so far as to give us a taste of omniscience, seeing events through the eyes of any number of characters. But, again, the ultimate irony of the situation is that the very mouthpieces that we see as proponents of self-direction and choice are they themselves shackled to the will of others.
For as long as I can recall thinking about such things, I've been a big proponent of free will. The notion that I, and I alone, control my actions and that any consequences of those actions are mine to bear. As near as I can determine, it was this firm belief in free will that has guided/directed my thinking towards religion, politics, entertainment, and just about everything else. After college, I began mentally exploring that notion further and have come to think of myself as something of an existentialist. While there are any number of variations of existentialist philosophy, the basic premise takes free will a step further by stating that the meaning(s) of our very existence is entirely up to the individual.

I seem to recall seeing/reading an article some years back discussing Krazy Kat in an existentialist (instead of the more typical surrealist) light, but I can't seem to find that at the moment. This particular strip (from December 25, 1919) speaks directly to the two characters' differing approaches to what is or isn't their respective realities. But it's certainly not the only comic that brings up the notion of existentialism.

Time travel is a notion that comes up frequently in comics -- as well as other media, but I'm talking comics here. The two primary notions that tend to come up in some fashion are A) that anything a character does in his/her past is in fact already a part of his/her part and s/he was destined to carry out those actions, and B) history is mutable and subject to change -- a media-centric shortcut to explaining that position is Back to the Future. (There are variations on these ideas, obviously, with alternate timelines and such, but they still tend to generally follow one of those two premises.) It should be needless to say that I tend to favor stories that dismiss the notion of destiny or inevitability. Because of my fairly strong feelings on the matter, I tend to approach stories involving time travel with some trepidation, especially with properties that haven't previously taken a definitive stance on the issue of time travel. Both DC and marvel have wavered back and forth on the issue repeatedly, seemingly dependent on the whims of the writer and/or editor of any particular story.

That said, I can still appreciate a time travel story that holds to the notion of determinism, if it's done well. Steve Englehart, for example, did a fine job in West Coast Avengers #17-24. Technically, it holds together extremely well, keeping multiple storylines/timelines straight and still tying into established continuity on any number of points. I don't agree with the basic premise, but I have to admire the skill with which the story was executed. By contrast, Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa's Knights 4 #15-17 is fraught with plot holes stemming precisely from the time travel aspects of the story, and I disliked that story despite his holding up the notion of free will and some excellent artwork by Jim Muniz.

But that's only an obvious way to see existentialism in comics. Another issue that stands out for me is one that was never published: Captain America #14 by Mark Waid and Andy Kubert. The issue, as written by Waid, recounts a history of the Red Skull -- as told by the Red Skull himself. (Editor Bob Harras re-wrote much of the script before it was published, putting Red Skull in a more typical -- and safe -- role as the bad guy. I wrote about this all in more detail here.) The original narrative is insightful because it is that of a character who believes in what he himself is doing, regardless of the fact that most people would consider those actions "evil." He doesn't consider his actions anything less than justified because of his own goals and that Captain America is an obstacle to them. Although the Skull's thoughts themselves don't necessarily relay an existentialist message, the very notion that his perception of events differs from the title's usual protagonist speaks to the idea that each man is creating a reality based on his own thoughts and opinions.

I think that one of the (subconscious) reasons I took to the Fantastic Four early was that it readily exposed the difference in approaches with Mr. Fantastic and Dr. Doom. Doom's very character is based in large part on revenge against Reed Richards for a perceived slight back in college. Reed, by contrast, always takes the opinion that the error was Doom's himself and he has never acknowledged that fact -- Doom is, in effect, absolving himself of any responsibility for his situation. The difference in characters are further highlighted by Reed repeatedly taking responsibility for the accident that caused his friends' conditions -- most notably that of his best friend, Ben Grimm. And similarly, Ben does NOT blame Reed for his own state (at least, he didn't by the time I started reading the book; the first dozen or so issues, Ben very clearly and adamantly did blame Reed). Ben has accepted that he elected to take on the risk of piloting that fateful space flight, fully knowing that there was a great amount of risk. The Fantastic Four (the good guys) believe they created themselves, while Dr. Doom (the bad guy) believes he was created by others.

Now whether or not you agree with me on how much responsibility we have for our own actions is immaterial here. But I think it's an especially intriguing notion to examine how some of my core belief system ties in to what I like to read. As I write this, I am the product of every decision I've ever made, and so I'm left to wonder who would I be if I had made different choices? Would I have taken to the Fantastic Four -- or, indeed, comics in general -- if I was more determinist in nature? Would I be reacting differently to events in my personal life the way I am? Would I even need to be dealing with the same things with a different outlook? Certainly interesting, if ultimately unanswerable, questions.

But let me put the question to you: how do your personal philosophies impact your choice of comics reading? I don't expect answers here, mind you -- I can only address the issue now because of the insane amount of navel-gazing I've done on the topic -- but it might be something worth examining for your own personal edification.

Self-actualization through comic books! Who knew?
Here are this week's links to what I've had published recently...

Kleefeld on Comics: Redux: Earning a Living in the 21st Century
https://ift.tt/qIbrgLt

Kleefeld on Comics: STILL Studying at Transylvania Polygnostic
https://ift.tt/sgn2pRO

Kleefeld on Comics: Robert Zuppke, Cartoonist?
https://ift.tt/At9gfSm

Kleefeld on Comics: RSS is Not Dead
https://ift.tt/3yEV0cu

Kleefeld on Comics: On Reed Crandall
https://ift.tt/6TeY2xz
I suspect that, like many folks, I don't know much about Reed Crandall. His most prominent work was through the 1940s and '50s, and he moved over to work on the oft-overlooked Treasure Chest in 1960, where he remained for just over a decade. Although he did work on some notable characters like Blackhawk and Doll Man, not having not actually created them means his contributions often get glossed over as well. Further, when he went over to EC, he was working in the shadow of guys like Wally Wood, Jack Davis, Will Elder, Frank Frazetta, Graham Ingels and Jack Kamen. That's a tough crowd to stand out in.

Blackhawk #1
Which means that, not only do we not have a book-length biography of him to refer to, it doesn't seem as if there have been any substantial articles about him. The references I'm seeing in Alter Ego (the magazine when it comes to Golden Age creators and characters) seems to only talk about Crandall in relation to broader discussions of Quality Comics, who ran Blackhawk and Doll Man. The longest biography I can seem to find of him is his Wikipedia listing.

I'm vaguely familiar with his work, first seeing it cited in Ron Goulart's The Great Comic Book Artists back in 1986. But the era Crandall was in the industry, combined with his never really worked on anything I was especially interested in, meant that I know little more about him now than I did decades ago. I've picked up a few reprints of his EC stuff, but that he worked on the pieces was incidental.

So it's only been compartatively recently that I became aware of any details of Crandall's final years. Here's the Wikipedia version...
Crandall, who had left New York City in the 1960s in order to care for his ailing mother in Wichita, Kansas, had developed alcoholism. Recovering by the time of his mother's death, he nonetheless suffered debilitated health and left art in 1974 to work as a night watchman and janitor for the Pizza Hut general headquarters in Wichita. After suffering a stroke that year, he spent his remaining life in a nursing home and died in 1982 of a heart attack.
Wow. Talk about tragic. Crandall did get some recognition of his contributions during his lifetime when he was a guest at the Multicon-70 convention in 1970, but any other accolades he received were posthumous ones.

There are biographies out there of Mort Meskin, Matt Baker, Nick Cardy, and Jackie Ormes. All very, very talented individuals, but also ones whose names do not immediately strike one as commercially viable biography subjects. So how about Crandall? Who's up for writing a biography of him? He's definitely a creator we should know more about, if for no other reason than to make sure his final days aren't repeated by any other comic artist! Someone, get on this!
Jey Pawlik posted on Mastodon yesterday
"I was commissioned by filthyfigments.com to draw up a BRAND NEW RSS COMIC!

With all the Tapas news, I thought this would be the perfect time to post the full comic.

This is an up-to-date comic with what I'm using, how I'm using it, and how you can too!"
I've been using RSS for ages and still rely on it for reading webcomics. (Even the ones where creators don't even realize they've accidentally set up RSS feeds!) I don't know why RSS fell out of favor* so I thought I'd share Pawlik's two-page comic here as well.
Digitally drawn comic, featuring Jey and the two mascots from Filthy Figments.

The three of them are sitting in a space ship, all looking at their hologram tablets. Jey says 'Hell yeah, that new comic on Filthy Figments just updated!'

Ember looks surprised and asks 'WHAA?! How'd you know that? I didn't see it yet!'

Pomona responds 'Yeah, what's up? I don't see any posts about it on socials.'

Jey points to their hologram tablet and says 'Oh I got the notification on my RSS reader as soon as the page went up!'

Ember looks confused and asks 'R-what-what?' and Pomona says 'Sounds sexy, do tell~'

Jey explains 'RSS, or Really Simple Syndication', is an update feed for a website. Every time the site publishes a blog post, comic page, or anything else, that feed is updated.'

Pomona and Ember then ask 'Okay cool, but how do we access that feed? I'm no hacker or anything!'

Jey says 'It's really simple~ heh'

All you need is:

the feed url from the site, usually a button or a link (ie. filthyfigments.com/comic/feed)

and a feed reader!

Pomona asks 'Do you have any sexy ready recs, Jey? ❤️'

'Oh, I sure do! I've tried a whole bunch out, and every reader is a little different so try out a few to see what fits you best.'

Here's a few I've tried:
Feedbro
Feedbin (paid, but worth it)
Feedly (was good but got into AI)
Thunderbird
Ukagaka Ghosts (the most fun)

'I like Feedbro the best for my needs~'   Copy the link and add it to your reader of choice:

The image shows a mouse copying the url filthyfigments.com/comic/feed and pasting it into the feed reader, which then turns in to a feed of posts and images for the user. The feed shows blog posts, subscription posts, and image posts by people on their own websites, blogs and a tumblr.

Jey shows the finished feed off and says 'And VOILA! You've got a feed of JUST the sites you add.'

Pomona grins and says 'Ohh, it looks just like a social media feed~'

Ember excitedly clasps her hands together and asks 'But-- without algorithms?!'

Jey replies with a cheeky little grin 'You got it! Your feed reader wont' ever give you posts from sites you don't follow, it'll always be in chronological order and WITHOUT ADS!'

Ember throws her arms up in complete shock saying 'NO ADS?! Are you serious? SIGN ME UP!'

The three are sitting together on the space ship again with their hologram tablets. Ember excitedly says 'Hey, I got the update ❤️'

Pomona sits back satisfied saying 'Ahh RSS is bliss~'

A comic by Jey Pawlik jpawlik.com for filthyfigments.com using the site's mascots Ember and Pomona.
And on the off chance that you're wondering, I've always included an RSS link to this very blog at the bottom of every page! But to be abundantly clear, the link to my blog feed is: http://kleefeldoncomics.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default?alt=rss

* I actually do know why: capitalism
1940s girl reading comics
At the right is a photo that gets floated around periodically when people need a generic mid-20th century picture of a kid reading the funnies. It's pretty unremarkable in most respects. But if you study it closely enough, you can fairly easily figure out the date was November 5, 1940 based on the Dick Tracy strip.

One of the other strips there, though, appears to be a football-related story by Bob Zuppke -- the title of the strip is blocked from view. It turns out that Bob Zuppke in fact only did one strip, called Ned Brant that ran from 1930 to 1948. It was occassionally subtitled "A Story of College Athletics" so the football theme makes sense. And indeed, when you look up Zuppke himself, he was in fact the head football coach the University of Illinois at Urbana–Champaign from 1913 until 1941. He took the team to national titles four times, beginning his second year at the school! He is sometimes creditted with the invention of the huddle, although forms of it were in use before his version of it.

Zuppke was also an avid painter and had one-man shows at least as early as 1937. He mostly did landscapes of the American West and presumably spent even more time painting once he retired from football. So where did he find time to do a daily comic strip as well?

Well, even though this strip is creditted only to him, it was actually drawn by Walt Depew. At least some of the strips do give Depew co-credit. Lambiek notes that Depew also worked on Flying to Fame, Off Campus, and Dick Ember but he seemed to be primarily a staff photographer and artist for the Des Moines Tribune. So Ned Brant wasn't Zuppke toiling away at the drawing board after the big game!

But wait, there's more!

A few years ago, Tom Heintjes dug up a clipping from a Q&A from a circa-1980s Tribune where someone asked about whether it was true that Ned Brant was drawn by a local. The response was mostly about a gent by the name of Ted Ashby, who used to be a reporter and columnist for that paper from 1928 until 1945. It's then noted that it was actually Ashby who wrote the strip, and that they just attached Zuppke's name to it. Zuppke had just come off three incredible seasons (including winning the National Championship in 1927 and the Conference title in 1928) when Ned Brant started, so attaching his name to the strip was almost certainly a marketing ploy to bring in more readers.

The clipping also notes that Ashby took inspiration from his own life, at one point writing a story about a physically handicapped boy who strove to become a college athlete... which closely resembled his polio-stricken son. That Ashby lived/worked at the Des Moines paper that also employed Depew would've made collaboration a HECK of a lot easier than trying to work with Illinois-based Zuppke in the 1930s and '40s!

Zuppke clearly had talent as a football coach, but it's interesting to see how much else he's given credit for that really he had little to do with.
In the mail yesterday, I received the two Girl Genius books from Phil and Kaja Foglio's most recent Kickstarter. The package, like many Kickstarters, contained some additional goodies like bookmarks and stickers and -- most significantly for me -- a 2026 student ID card for Transylvania Polygnostic University,...
(To be clear, the card arrived blank. I added the personal information in the above image digitally.)

I'm particularly amused by the "accelerated learning program" notation on the card. Because I've been a student at TPU since 2001! I still have my acceptance letter and first report card...
Personally, I always like this kind of promotional material. Real world artifacts of a fictional place. Particularly when you, as a reader, are able to become a part of it. I've created a small shelf display of my comic book alter ego's adventures. You can see here various coins, some badges and ID cards, a folder of "Above Top Secret" material, and a Tesladyne field guide among other things. Relative to Girl Genius in particular, you can see three medals in the back identifying me as a "Monster Wrangler," an "Aetheric Machinist" and a member of the "Incorruptuble Library." (So yeah, I have been at TPU for a quarter century, but it's not like I haven't been doing anything during my time there!)
When combined with the appearances I've made as a character in various comics over the years, I think it makes for an exciting story trying to weave together all of these elements into a single narrative. I've had others comment in recent years that my actual life has been interesting and exciting and cool -- climbing volcanos and running marathons and getting struck by lightning and saving people from drowning in the ocean... But I'm only able to do those types of things because I'm trying to live up to the potential my fictional alter ego has shown through these half-seen adventures. I can push myself to do cool stuff in real life because I've got hints like these of what my fictional self has been able to achieve.