Chris Ware's New Yorker cover


“I will forever treasure this movie of that potted plant!”

You mean, Chris Ware’s latest cover. He’s done a few before.

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I was about to ask why none of the parents of the band members were in the audience, until I noticed the flutist on one of the screens.

Maybe it’s parallel thinking but that’s a Louis CK joke

edit: yep, here it is

I think Ware expands on it by showing that while the children are holding hands and connecting as a troupe on stage, each parent is separating their kid from the whole, the larger, better picture being lost to them.


What’s with those IDIOTS shooting in portrait mode?!?!


Ahh, I see. Oh that’s way more depressing


I have posted this before and I will post it again:

because this abomination must be stopped!


“Way more depressing” is Mr. Ware’s special talent. This doesn’t keep him from being one of my favorite artists, though.

  1. Nothing has changed since video recording was a thing. You want memories of your kid when they were young, not a documentation of the whole play for future generations not to watch. Let’s face it, these kids plays suck anyway.

  2. You also suck if you don’t occasionally capture the whole scene… that’s videography. You wanna watch a closeup of one sportsperson during a sportsball game?

  3. Louis CK’s point is valid, but it is possible to shoot video and look at what’s going on, as long as you’re not entirely inept.


This is one of the funnier videos I’ve seen in ages – thank you :slight_smile:

You know, I used to think so too, but I’ve decided that the current status of mainstream superhero comics is way more depressing, because at least with Ware’s characters–even consummate sad sacks like Jimmy Corrigan–at least they have a life, no matter how desperate or barren. Superheroes “die” and the fans just bet on how long and under what circumstance they get resurrected. Everytime there’s a superhero funeral, I want to break through the fourth wall from the “other” direction and put my arm around Reed Richards’ shoulders and say, “Look, Johnny’s coming back. Hell, go ahead and buy him a Christmas present, he’ll be around to unwrap it, probably.” And even if a given character doesn’t “die”, some bright-eyed son of a bitch who’s the Next Hot Comics Writer will decide that the current continuity has to go, so they do a hasty retcon and all their past history goes away. It’s dreary and pointless.

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