45 Days Of CCS, #18: Dan Nott

Dan Nott's Hidden Systems is a remarkable achievement for journalistic and advocacy comics. It's thoughtful, intricately drawn, cleverly designed, meticulously researched, and deeply humanistic. Like many works of comics journalism, Nott himself is the inquiring figure, wondering out loud precisely how things we take for granted--water, electricity, the internet--really work. What are the physical processes that are required to harness each of them? What are the hidden costs with regard to their use? Who benefits most from these resources?

The book has a built-in limitation: it is published by Random House KidsGraphic, so it's aimed at a younger audience. This is a limitation that's hurting comics in general, as YA/middle grade/kids comics are the only growth market in publishing at the moment. However, Nott is a fairly restrained artist in terms of hyperbole and content to begin with, even with regard to advocacy, so I don't know if a version of this book aimed at adults would have been significantly more different. Certain areas of inequity could have been hit harder, like more detail regarding the lack of potability with regard to Flint's drinking water, for example. Still, Nott goes out of his way to mention the ways that indigenous populations have been repeatedly screwed when it comes to both electricity and water, as well as the ways in which Africa has largely been ignored relative to other countries with regard to the internet. 

The internet chapter was the basis of Nott's senior thesis at CCS, which I was able to read and review at length, and it's still a remarkable achievement on its own. Nott grounds a service that is deliberately regarded as enigmatic and treated with airy metaphors in the reality that the internet is grounded in cables that are underwater, buildings that house rows of computers, and intersections where data is exchanged. Only a tiny portion of the internet is truly wireless, and the internet's existence uses a great deal of natural resources. The concept of the internet transcending borders is only true so much as these centers are in countries with a great deal of wealth; it's one reason why much of Africa, parts of Asia, and even Central and South America are not nearly as wired. 

Nott gets more pointed with electricity and water, as he admits that electricity as a force is difficult to describe and understand. However, its impact is obvious and life-changing, and its pursuit also can wreak havoc on ecological systems. For example, rivers were dammed up worldwide to generate hydroelectric energy, but in so doing it stopped the flow of the rivers, displaced indigenous populations, and disrupted their relationship with the land in a way that prevented them from getting the food and water they needed. He goes even deeper with water, as he notes the use and redirection of water has been the basis of civilization for millennia. However, doing it on a wide scale and for a rapidly escalating population is one of many factors leading to global warming, which in itself tends to disproportionately affected marginalized populations. Some of Nott's references to colonialism, while valid, feel a bit on the shallow side in terms of critical analysis. That's a limit of the publishing format, I suspect, but for a book that is otherwise so carefully researched and its concepts explained, Nott makes a lot of claims regarding colonialism that he doesn't explain in much detail. Still, I admire Nott advocating for and expanding on how a different future is possible in a way that makes complex concepts easy to parse thanks to the diagrammatic quality of his layouts and a relentless battle for clarity. 

31 Days Of CCS, #12: Dan Nott and Sofia Lesage

Hidden Systems Preview & Sketchzine, by Dan Nott. Nott is about to establish himself as one of the best practitioners of comics journalism and non-fiction comics with his upcoming book, Hidden Systems. As this minicomic reveals, Nott has a curiosity about how the world works in ways that most people don't think of or engage with. He cartoons with an extraordinary sense of clarity and organization, breaking down complex ideas into comprehensible images with a minimum of fuss. While it's interesting to see Nott reveal a bit of his process here, his secret as a cartoonist is his lack of pyrotechnics. You don't read one of his comics for startling graphics or eye-popping draftsmanship. Those things would be a distraction for his actual goals as a storyteller. Instead, he draws the reader in with a few questions, piques their curiosity, and leads them on a path of discovery without it feeling like work. While he has specific points he's trying to make, he understands that a polemic won't be as useful as a book that gets readers to see things from a different point of view might be. While Nott's work might not look exciting, this isn't to say that it's not elegant and aesthetically appealing. It is both of these things, in a seemingly effortless way, but it's clear that he's refined his approach as a storyteller since his days as a student at CCS. He's always been interested in asking questions and exploring unusual scenarios, but he's saying more with less. I've read a chunk of what's going to be in the final book, and it's one that educators around the country should take a look at. 

October Rot, I Made This Comic Before The Queen Died, and Thank You, Data by Sofia Lesage. Lesage is a British cartoonist and CCS student whose comics express a sense of rage and despair by a world that attacks her on an existential level. October Rot is a hastily-sketched story with an image a page, with each page being about 3" x 3". This is a harrowing bit of memoir about an infestation of flies in Lesage's Vermont apartment, and the sheer terror it inspires in her. It gets even worse when the cause is found: maggots in the garbage can lid. The mix of rational disgust and irrational actions (like not just simply being another can) all intertwine in a way that reflects the way that the exterior manifestation of one's phobias can be a deeply traumatic event. Lesage's drawings are so visceral and so simple at the same time, making them all the more effective.

I Made This Comic Before The Queen Died is a meandering account of why Lesage thinks the monarchy is a bad and pointless idea. The comic is overly wordy and the images mostly lack power. Lesage herself identifies why this is in an afterword after Queen Elizabeth II actually died. She said she went "soft in a lot of places and fall to softening the 'get out the guillotines' energy with 'it's bad for them too." Whether or not one agrees with this stance, it was obvious that Lesage herself was second-guessing this decision even as she was writing and drawing the comic, because her arguments dance around the issue of why she thinks the monarchy is harmful without ever zeroing in on its essence. I think this makes a degree of sense, given just how the average British citizen is deferential to the idea of monarchy, even if they rationally believe that it doesn't make sense. Unfortunately for the reader, Lesage lost the plot in this comic, and its wishy-washiness shows.

However, Thank You, Data is anything but indecisive in the ideas that Lesage advances. She starts off hard and goes even harder by the end, refusing to let the reader and society off the hook. This comic talks about the character Data from the TV show Star Trek: The Next Generation, and the ways in which he's treated by his friends and fellow crewmembers. Data is an android, meaning that he doesn't experience emotions and social cues in the same way as his peers. Sometimes, he'll be asked for information but he won't know where to stop, and he'll be cut off with a firm but polite "Thank you, Data." It's a running gag. 

As a neurodivergent person, Lesage relates feeling the same way: a facsimile. She explains that her brain processes information differently than aulistic people, especially with regard to rambling, not understanding social cues from others, not knowing when to let other people talk, and feeling hurt every time she's shut down. Lesage goes a step further: she notes that at almost an animal level, having a brain that's wired differently is a guarantee that she will never be accepted, that the entire culture is built to cater to people who are aulistic, and that she feels anger and frustration for something that will not change. Data isn't a symbol of making her feel less alone; instead, he's a prime example of how even his well-meaning friends treat him as "not quite their equal, but their responsibility." It puts the autistic person in a box, and they are not allowed to be free of it if they want to interact with others. It puts the lie to the idea that they are just different, because they are clearly not treated the same nor allowed the same space to operate and function that others are given. It's a howl that's made all the more effective by Lesage's drawings, especially as she shifts between drawing Star Trek characters, herself in real life, and also herself as a Star Trek character. (Hilariously, she puts in a disclaimer at the end that not all of the drawings are necessarily accurate. Talk about knowing your audience!) Most importantly, she doesn't apologize for who she is, how she thinks, and what others might feel about her creating discomfort. It's a brilliant balance of theme, allusions, technique, and emotion.

31 Days of CCS #14: Advocacy Comics

This Is What Democracy Looks Like was published by the Center For Cartoon Studies itself. The comic is free and available as a .pdf, with the idea that it's a work of Graphic Advocacy, or Applied Cartooning, as the school itself might say. The lead cartoonist and writer is Dan Nott, and the project truly has his fingerprints all over it. Nott has an evenhanded authorial voice, even when he's passionate about a subject. He also has a knack for taking large, confusing institutions and breaking them down, piece by piece. In simple language and very clear graphics, he explains how governance works in the US. More to the point, Nott gets across the idea is that democracy, even a representative democracy like the US (as opposed to direct democracy), requires not just voting but a willingness to advocate. It's about raising awareness for what's important to you, finding other like-minded people, and making compromises with others. It's advocacy and consensus-building not just as an individual activity, but with the understanding that the whole point of democracy is acknowledging our participation in a greater society.

Kevin Czap did the cover, and it strikes all of the right notes. James Sturm and CCS grad Nomi Kane (who's done a great deal of political work) were also credited, but I couldn't discern what they did in particular. Cartoonists Summer Pierre and Hallie Jay Pope also contributed strips, with Pierre's strip, in particular, a stirring tribute to the importance of voting. That said, this is Nott's book. The way that he calmly explains why he's right, with a strong emphasis on facts and historical data, makes the book more pedagogical than polemic. Given its stated mission, this emphasis on clarity rather than passion is the right call.

On the other hand, Housing + Transit is very much about passion. Josh Kramer, who's been a tireless comics journalist throughout his career, is angrier and more direct when reporting his stories. He teamed with Nott for a strip about transit issues and with Joyce Rice for a story about Housing problems. Both strips originally appeared in The Nib and were written by Kramer. "Transit" traced the history of a lack of good transit systems in many high-density cities. There was a tipping point where antiquated transit systems simply weren't replaced by cars provided so much more individual, independent access. However, in high-density areas, traffic reduces this efficiency and creates health & environmental issues as a result. Kramer portrays it as something that the public must buy into as much as anyone in order to make it work. "Housing" zeroes in on zoning laws that prevent the construction of housing (never mind affordable housing) in many states, and these laws are often racist in nature, in order to "preserve the character of the neighborhood." The contrast in art styles was interesting. Rice's page layouts were clear and did the job, but lacked the astounding clarity of Nott's pages. Nott knows how to use an open-page layout in a way that still holds everything together and makes it easy for a reader to navigate the page.

Glynnis Fawkes is currently on faculty with CCS and drew this year's recruitment comic, The Brontë Sisters Go To The Center For Cartoon Studies. Fawkes just did a book on Charlotte Brontë, so this made sense. This is one of my favorite of the CCS comics (I'm not sure anything will ever top the one that Kevin Huizenga did), as it imagines Charlotte and Emily Brontë as cartoonists. It subtly gets at the reasons why going to a comics-focused school is a good idea: the availability of resources, both technical and research (the Schulz Library is truly a marvel); stretching skills through collaboration and learning the styles of other cartoonists; and being taught storytelling as a way to strengthen one's work. The sales pitch is funny and charming, with a distinct understanding of the Brontë sisters' background and interests while giving them a modern sensibility. 

Thirty One Days Of CCS #24: A Whole Lifetime Of Firsts

A Whole Lifetime Of Firsts. This is the second collaboration between CCS cartoonists and the White River Junction VA, featuring veteran's stories focusing in on women. The first CCS/VA collaboration was good, but this one is excellent. There's a level of depth and execution in transcribing the stories of women in the military in a variety of ways that's striking. On top of that, telling stories that haven't necessarily been part of the public discourse up til recently is also something that adds to their impact.

"Mitzi's Story" is written by co-editor J.D. Lunt (CCS president James Sturm is the other editor). She is a former NCO who wound up in places like Kosovo and Iraq. For her, even though she's a closeted lesbian, military service was her life. That was also despite a sexual assault and soldiers of lower rank frequently ignoring her orders. When she was honorably discharged because of an injury, she was ill-equipped to face civilian life despite being married. She got hooked on drugs, arrested and tried to kill herself before really deciding to embrace rehab. After a lifetime of being told she wasn't good or smart enough and enduring enough PTSD for a dozen people, her ability to endure and thrive is simply remarkable. Garcia uses a standard nine-panel grid with a visual approach that's a little ragged, yet appropriate for the subject.

"I Got Your Six" is from Daryl Seitchik & Dan Nott, and it's about an Army nurse who was in Viet Nam. There's a lot of story to tell here, and Seitchik & Nott use a twelve-panel grid to pack it all in. Despite that, they tell the story with a great deal of clarity, making frequent use of switching black & white negative space. Every panel is well-balanced in this regard, making the linework easy to grasp and contextualize. This story focuses more on her experiences in the war as a nurse and less on what happened afterwards, though she does note how much hostility she faced as a veteran of Viet Nam when she returned. What I found most fascinating is her intuitive understanding of how important psychological care was for soldiers in addressing PTSD at a time when it was not understood or used.

"Isolated Duty" is a story with the opposite scenario: a woman in the Navy in the 70s got injured and met the love of her life who was also a woman in the military. Drawn by Rachel Ford and written by Sarah Yahm and Kurt Shaffert, this is a nicely-constructed comic that at times is perhaps a bit too spare with regard to facial expressions. The theme of being taken care of and now taking care of her partner resonates, especially with the way they keep their romance alive despite her partner's increasingly diminished mental capacity. Finally, "Kathi: A Life Well Traveled" is about an Air Force nurse who was in Europe and later Viet Nam, and it's by Catherine Garbarino and Kelly L. Swann. The artists make extensive use of grayscale shading to add to the sense of this being akin to an old book of photos, filled with memories. Kathi is a relentlessly upbeat presence and was regarded as such in Viet Nam, even earning a Bronze Star for the way she enhanced morale. This is not to say that there weren't painful moments, like a truck accident that she still couldn't discuss, and a young boy in a leper colony that she wanted to adopt but couldn't, but she still mostly stayed positive. All of this was told from her perspective of being treated for cancer at eighty years old, staying positive to the end. The way each story had a different focus and featured several different armed services spoke to the variety of experiences, as well as the need for each of these women to tell their story. These are stories that needed to be told, and the artists found different ways to get there.

Thirty One Days Of CCS #19: Dan Nott and Curtis Thomson

Today's entry features work from an artist who not only was in his first year at CCS, he had almost no experience as a cartoonist. It also features the exquisitely detailed thesis project of a graduating senior.

Curtis D. Thomson is the father of Quinn Thomson, a fellow first-year student at CCS last year. Cartooning is a path that Quinn wanted to take, and Curtis accompanied him to classes at the Joe Kubert School. Curtis was a watch repairman by trade, but it became increasingly obvious that he not only had the talent to be a cartoonist, he also had the desire. So both Thomsons are at CCS, and their styles are dramatically different. Looking over sample work and his Industry Day Comics mini, it's obvious that in terms of drawing and cartooning, he can work in any style. He's that rare natural who just has an uncanny level of skill.

His version of the Aesop's Fables project centered around "The Birds, The Beasts and the Bat", drawn in an ink-stained, Steve Bissette style of art suitable for horror. Everything from his lettering to his scratchy and often spare line was used effectively to create a dark atmosphere. "Metamorsel" appears to be a comic based on Wally Wood's classic "22 Panels That Always Work". There are multiple instances of a variety of different shots, including silhouette, foreground-background switches, light and dark contrast and more. The story is about a father misplacing a cookbook that he thought his wife no longer wanted, and the trouble that causes. "Meditation Comic" uses three different visual approaches, stacked in 2 vertical panels apiece: a sketchy style that utilizes white space, a more labored style that emphasizes light/dark contrasts; and two panels that heavily rely on spotting blacks. The result is something along the lines of a poetry comic, though a bit more scattered because it's clearly stream-of-consciousness. That said, Thomson was able to pull the strip together thanks to its visual elements. Thomson may well be better suited to draw other people's stories, but I'm curious to see what he comes up with in his second year.

Dan Nott is a highly ambitious cartoonist specializing in journalism. He's already signed a book deal with First Second to do a book called Hidden Systems, which is about the mostly unseen and little-discussed infrastructure that allows the world to function: water, power, internet, etc. His thesis project is titled Lines of Light, and while it is certainly thoroughly-researched, its chief virtues are its clarity and simplicity. Nott provided me with the entire thesis package, including a number of related minis and sketchbook material. The book seeks to answer a single question: what is the internet, exactly? Nott answers the question with a great deal of detail but streamlines and simplifies the answers in a way that's easy to comprehend. Furthermore, he contextualizes the history and structure of the internet in a way that reveals how it's not really the great equalizer across the world, but instead is controlled by and serves the interests of those nations and corporate entities that hold power.

Nott begins talking about the issue by discussing the various metaphors for the internet: cloud, highway, tubes, etc. What all of them have in common is the idea that the internet is completely decentralized, while the truth is quite the opposite. He connects the internet to the telegraph, invented over 150 years ago, because the reality is that both of them rely on cables buried under the ground or laid at the bottom of the ocean. The map he shows of how similar the US interstate system is to internet cable lines is fascinating and shows how those areas are privileged. Nott notes that 97% of internet activity comes through these buried lines to carefully concealed exchange points--buildings with huge computers that connect data networks. The vast majority of these points are in the US and Europe--putting the lie to decentralization.

From cable to exchange points to data centers, these internet nexus points are not widely discussed or understood by the general public, and this is intentional. Nott lays out his argument neatly and cogently, as he draws back the curtain on anonymous-seeming buildings that are crucial parts of the internet. Nott slips between a 12-panel and a 9-panel grid, with the panels often slipping away at the bottoms of pages when the information coalesces into a single image. There are also times when he wanted to push just how large a facility was, so the image would expand over two pages, while he would keep the captions within the panels of the grid. His line is simple and clear, as he used a lightly cartoonish approach to make each image approachable for the reader. That also keeps each image slightly loose, allowing the reader to make quick panel-to-panel and page-to-page transitions without being thrown off. While there is an element of advocacy in this work, Nott keeps it dialed back, preferring to let the data do the talking and allowing the reader to make their own judgments.

Looking at the supplementary material, it all ties into the main work in some ways because the autobio comics are about him thinking about the issues raised by his book. Basement is a dream comic about looking for the roots of the internet and finding rare, toxic materials that tie into war and then a video game. It's a mishmash that makes sense, and Nott's visual approach (lightly sketchy, with the occasional effect like zip-a-tone to add some weight to the page) has a lightness to it that makes it effective. Internet Search is a funny comic done in landscape form, wherein Nott does a search on the internet and follows every cable until he gets to an exchange point. It's a clever visual representation of the way that the internet actually works.  Nothing Works is another landscape comic about infrastructure; it depicts a world where there's no working electricity, water, internet or anything else that requires a massive, mostly hidden support structure in order to keep it functioning.

Smartphone is another clever mini that weaves in a variety of different tech-related press conferences (like the insufferable Steve Jobs at the first unveiling of the iPhone) and the actual cost of human misery that it takes to mine the materials needed to make these items and assemble them. Nott juxtaposes those events with people like Tim Cook moralizing about Apple's supposed commitment to "human dignity". Finally, Sketches & Schematics is exactly what it sounds like--a behind-the-scenes look at Nott's creative process, along with his takes on tarot cards, dream bridges, and autobiographical stories about researching his book. It's a wonderful, varied package that offers a lot of personal anecdotes and feelings as well a wide array of visual approaches. Nott is the rare combination of ambitious, curious and unassuming, making him an ideal journalist. He is always looking for deeper truths and making connections, and above all else, following the money. It's no surprise that he worked with Andy Warner as his advisor, since Warner has a similar sense of curiosity and social justice, as well as an understated approach. I expect Nott's new book to be even more ambitious in scope but equally approachable.

Thirty Days of CCS #4: Luke Howard, Steve Thueson, Dan Nott

After Luke Howard finished the emotionally devastating, formally challenging comic Our Mother, it made sense that for his next comic, he wanted to do something as a palate cleanser of sorts, something that wasn’t as draining. The comic turned out to be The Big Mystery Case (subtitled “A Crime Comedy”), which threw every trope and cliché’ imaginable from hard-boiled detective stories and creepy serial killer cases and reimagined them as a kind of easy-reader primer for kids. The result is hilarious, as Howard’s deliberately spare line leaves only basic storytelling scaffolding plus whatever visual jokes he wanted to throw in. There is inane repetition that starts at the beginning, as the detective gets a call that says “We need you for the big mystery case” and he says out loud, afterward, “They need me for the big mystery case”. After he finds a clue, he says to the cops, “Take this back to the lab and do lab things to it.” You get the idea. 

There are mentions of a dark past and a trail that leads to the awesome Bad Boy bar, where a guy with a Mohawk is wearing a skull-bedecked top that says “Crime Shirt”. At one point, the detective says “We can do this easy way or the hard way” and the bar dudes hilariously say “Oh, then I say we go with the easy way”, simultaneously calling out action clichés and subverting them. There’s a Mystery Cave, flashbacks, a memory of a memory of a partner eaten by a shark in the caves, a memory of another partner being killed in a unique manner by an eagle and the discovery of a second detective, with whom a reluctant partnership is formed.

The back half features an encounter with a jailed serial killer (ala Hannibal Lecter) for information and a final confrontation in a basement (“Our descent is a metaphor”) that leads to an anticlimax. Nothing else would have suited this narrative, really. Howard doesn’t draw distinct faces in this story and also uses deliberately awkward poses, with the main detective tending to hunch his shoulders forward. He’s identifiable mostly by his moustache, just as the other detective he meets is made distinct by her hair (and otherwise identical detective outfit). This comic is 132 pages of silly, complete with an inspirational, shoegazing ending with a surprise character. There’s even a fan letter written by the killer to his inspiration stuff in an “envelope” glued to the inside back cover. 

In the package for the comic, Howard threw in a second comic, The Little Mystery Case. It’s a send-up of his own send-up, as the detective finds a lost puppy, tries to squeeze out of his underground connections and accuses the Big Fat Boss of the crime. The end is inevitable and heartwarming, even if he did insult the Big Fat Boss (his name is Steve and he’s sensitive about his weight). Howard basically inserts a puppy into crime clichés and it slowly dawns on him that this doesn’t make much sense. Howard goes big on every page, as it’s a page per panel. He invites the reader to go as quickly as possible in reading the story, and the images don’t really encourage the eye to linger; Howard is careful to make his jokes quickly apparent. Howard is a funny cartoonist, and I’d welcome seeing variations on this formula in the future.

In Quest Mania, what Steve Thuesen does here can only be described as “crusty punk D&D adventures”. In the newest, full-color comic book (titled “The Swamp”), the unnamed adventuring duo have been hired to retrieve a crown from a tomb. They’re having all sorts of trouble: the male half of the duo’s ears are painfully ringing due to a show he saw a few days prior; the swamp isn’t even on their map, they are attacked by a monster, and they have their stuff stolen by a goblinoid creature. The guy is especially miffed when his mixtape he made for a girl gets stolen. When the creature leads them to the tomb, she speculates that he perhaps has a fetish, which sparks an argument. The genius of this comic is the way Thueson transfers the template of two crusty punks and the things they argue about and bond over to a magical fantasy-adventure world. Indeed, the transfer is surprisingly seamless. It helps that he’s equally adept at drawing monsters as he is punks; there’s no character or style clash on any of the pages. The pierced, schlubbily dressed punks just happen to be carrying huge swords and know how to use them.

In The Fastest Mile I Ever Ran, Thueson draws himself as a kind of punk duck in this story from high school. He establishes early on his generalized anger toward pretty much everyone around, but especially his homophobic and generally awful schoolmates. That rage wound up fueling him when it was time to run the mile in physical education, as he wound up doing a six minute mile--way ahead of his classmates. Of course, he also made the mistake of drinking an orange soda earlier in the day and nothing else, so his body--pushed to its limits-reacted accordingly by vomiting. The worst part of the story was him having to lay on the floor as other kids came in and then being forced by the janitor to clean it up. He's saved from the bell after working on this disgusting job for a while, but as the end of the story reveals, he learned nothing from it. Once again, Thueson's ability to draw disaffected punks in any setting, with attitude fully on display, is his greatest skill as a cartoonist.

Belling the Cat and Spy Blimp, by Dan Nott. Belling The Cat is a collection of three short stories, and it's a classic CCS move for a student to collect their student work in such a mini. Nott is graduating this year, and these comics show a cartoonist trying a number of different things. The first story, "9.11.01" uses the Ed Emberley simple-shape model (everything is either a circle, square, triangle, rectangle or oval) to relate his experience of 9/11 as a sixth grader. Using a 2 x 4 grid, it's odd now but made sense then that the teachers were trying to keep the event under wraps, but all it took was one student who had a doctor's appointment in the morning to rely this information. It's a comic that's interesting for its portrayal of cognitive dissonance on the part of the panicking adults, which bent the brains of the kids who were used to their authority figures being sure of everything that was going on. The Emberley style adds to that sense of a kid drawing the story and being unable to capture the complexity of an emotionally fraught situation.

The best story was Nott's adaptation of "Belling The Cat", based on an old folk tale. What I liked most about it was Nott's delicate, cartoony line in service of depicting a genteel mouse society menaced by the random violence of cats. It's a great story because it's about the way an idea can go a long way without anyone closely examining the viability of its premise. In other words: "Who bells the cat?" "Election Day" is about the 2016 election and suggests that there was a poor contingent of non-racist white people who voted for Trump because life was hard, his rhetoric had appeal, his racist friends liked him, and he didn't like being called a racist by someone outside a polling station. Nott tries to build up this character as reasonable and likable (with the light red wash being a subtle signal of what kind of voting area he was in). I'm not sure if Nott was setting this guy up as a good guy who got goaded by an asshole into voting for Trump, or simply a weak-willed person who got pushed into voting by Trump by the more passionate around him, despite his better judgment. Either way, considering the number of white people (and men in particular) who voted for Trump nationwide, I didn't find the strip's conclusions (such as they were) to be all that enlightening. The way Nott slipped between naturalistic drawing (the main character in particular) and the cartoonishness of the more extreme characters was clever.

Nott's work was much tighter overall on the whimsical, weird Spy Blimp. The first chapter is all about "Fat Albert", an aerostat (a stationary blimp) docked near Key West in Florida. Its purpose was unclear, although it was eventually revealed to be a spy blimp that also transmitted US TV to Cuba. It also had a tendency to have its anchor rope snap under high winds from time to time, and Nott depicts two fishermen tying it to their boat so as not to let it get away. Fat Albert had other ideas, taking the men and their boat into the sky. Incredibly, it was shot down by the Air Force, putting the poor fishermen into the ocean. It's a wonderfully absurd series of images in this nine-panel grid. The second story is an awesomely cynical one about a defense contractor trying to unload the JLENS (Fat Albert, essentially) as an anti-cruise missile deterrent. Its testing disastrous (causing power outages thanks to it getting away), the snake-oil salesman contractor pitched it to the senator for surveillance purposes.

 The third story reveals the panopticon-like qualities of the aerostat. Even if its cameras were broken, it was enough to make the people think that they worked to change their behavior. Designed to sniff out potential bombers, it wasn't hard to make the leap to categorizing any kind of odd behavior as threatening and in need of immediate termination. The differences in perception based on the degree of surveillance, violence and colonialism they're subjected to are depicted as bleakly humorous, as the cheers from the Afghans when they shot down their aerostat compared with the quirkly South Floridian bohmemians was telling. This is a smart, well-paced comic that concentrates on visual payoffs but also provides some key decorative qualities as well for balance.