Copying Media to Emacs

Emacs isn’t really a tool for creating WYSIWYG documents, so the editing support for anything other than plain text (and code) is pretty basic.

As I noted a few years back, Emacs has the primitives needed to interact with non-text clipboard types, so adding code to (say) allow choosing “Copy Image” in a browser and then pasting it into a buffer would be trivial.

But then what? Now you have an image in your buffer — but what do you do with it? For yanking media to be useful, the Emacs mode has to be able to do something meaningful with it.

For instance, a mail mode could put it into an attachment (or inline it) — so that’s meaningful. The HTML mode could allow pasting both HTML and images into the mode — it could use the HTML from the browser as is, and it could offer to save the image to a local file and then insert an <img> pointing to it.

Org mode could probably also do something with the data?

And so on. So I’ve now added a general infrastructure to Emacs 29 to allow this: Modes that feel that they can do something useful with non-plain-text selections can register themselves as such (and say which types they can handle), and then there’s a new ‘M-x yank-media’ command the user can use.

(This doesn’t work on all systems yet — basically it works the ones that traditionally use X. Emacs on Windows hasn’t implemented all the necessary plumbing yet (but it seems like it shouldn’t take much), and it’s probably more work to be done on Macos. But Linux, the BSDs and similar should work fine now, and the rest show support it eventually.)

Watch! With amazement as I copy an image from Firefox and yank it into a mail buffer:

Behold! With astonishment as I copy some text from Firefox into ‘html-mode’ and I get HTML there:

So… this is something that Emacs should have grown about three decades ago, but 🇺🇲! 🇺🇲! 🇺🇲! 🎆

PX90: The Best Comics of the Decade

The Best Comics of the Decade edited by Gary Groth and Kim Thompson (216x218mm)

You’d think this blog series would be over now, right? Well, it was! But then when I was putting all the comics back into the bookshelf…

… I found stuff I’d missed when rooting through the shelves for punk comix stuff at the start of this Odyssey in … May? (And I also bought a couple more things from ebay.)

So there’s at least another week’s worth of posts coming, but then it’s over. Over, I teels ya!

Onto The Best Comics of the Decade. I remember this being a somewhat controversial publication — lots of people angry that they (or their favourite creator) hadn’t been featured. It’s an early stab at making a comics canon, sort of? And I didn’t have these books at the time: I was a poor student and figured that I’d most likely already have most of the good stuff in here, anyway.

But I was curious now to see what Fantagraphics’ view of the 80s comics world would look like, and which people from the “punk comix” sphere would be featured here, so I got these books now.

Ah, this is explicitly a Comics Journal selection — not a Fantagraphics one, which makes sense.

Hm… Well, that’s a pretty major claim.

The editors, Gary Groth and Kim Thompson, write a short introduction that I’m sure offended nobody…

And then its just comics, comics, comics. There’s a brief introduction of each artist at the end of each of each book, but there’s no contextualisation in the book itself — no division into themes or anything. I guess the Peter Bagge story that opens the first book is a statement of sorts: Everything sucks, but at least we’re smart.

(I found this panel particularly funny, because Spielberg is swimming in Oscars now, and if you say something bad about him these days, you’ll get all of Film Twitter on your tail. Hm… let’s see if it works: “Schindler’s List sucked.” There. *waits nervously*)

Bill Griffith laments people not getting Zippy.

Heh heh. (Aline Kominsky.)

Every time somebody mentions Melinda Gebbie (including me), they mention how underappreciated she is. I’m starting to wonder whether she’s actually pretty appreciated? Perhaps she’s just the most “person-who-people-say-is-underappreciated?” Anyway, she’s great.

And then we get a colour section! With a colour Hercules Amongst The North Americans by Mark Marek. I didn’t know this was originally in colour! I’ve read the black and white version earlier in this blog series…

Anyway, I wanted to check these books for Raw artists, and here’s Spiegelman. But this is the only page of his here, which seems… er… odd? I mean, it would probably make no sense to include a Maus excerpt here, even if Fantagraphics were able to get the rights to do it, but it’s still a pretty odd selection. On the other hand, Spiegelman’s more famous shorter works were all from the 70s, so perhaps there wasn’t that much to choose from.

These books are pretty dense. Mark Newgarden’s very dense, too, but the editors have chosen works that are very compact. It makes total sense — if you’re cramming a decade into 240 pages, you can’t really go with any epics. But you still want to give the readers more than a single bite of each artist, so you choose the denser pieces.

These books are a good read — they’ve got good flow, and they’re pretty cohesive. It’s clear that the editors have a particular taste in comics: They like funny stuff, and they like narrative stuff, and they don’t like much else. I think there’s only a couple of pieces you could call “experimental”, and the Spiegelman page up there is one of them.

But there’s also a kind of disconnect between two aesthetics going on here. Juxtaposing Kaz with Dave Sim is pretty weird, and things seem to be just thrown in here without any sense of progression, really. I’m guessing we’re seeing two distinct tastes in comics here: Groth’s (more political, more wild) and Thompson’s (funny animals, Seattle scene stuff).

I was also expecting these books to be basically, wall-to-wall stuff from Weirdo and Raw. But there’s less than a handful of Weirdo pieces, and not more than a couple Raw pieces. Instead the editors seem to have gone out of their way to find pieces by great artists (Carel Moiseiwitsch here) that have appeared in out-of-the-way venues (Casual Casual here, but from all kinds of magazines and books).

And you definitely can’t skip Matt Groening in a book like this.

Or Gary Panter. This book is printed on very shiny, white paper, which I don’t think really suits most of the work here…

I appreciate that they tell us where all these things were picked from.

Perhaps not the best way to reprint Lynda Barry…

I’d say that basically everybody you’d expect to be here shows up. (Charles Burns.) There’s a few missing… the biggest oversight is perhaps Julie Doucet, who had published her mini-comic for a couple of years when this was released, but her breakthrough didn’t happen until 1991, so perhaps that’s understandable.

Mary Flenniken and Carol Tyler. I think I’ve seen that Tyler strip in a whole bunch of anthologies? It’s good, though, and short and self-contained, so it’s understandable.

There’s a good mix of longer and shorter strips, but sometimes it seems like the selection of strips is a bit odd. Why this Robert Crumb strip, for instance? It’s a very self referential piece, with Crumb ruminating on his career but…

Putting Eddie Campbell in here — sure, he’s great. But the rest of the book is all North American artists? Hm… this was previously published in a collection co-published by Eclipse, so perhaps it’s still all North American..

It’s not like these books have been very coherent until this point, but the last half of the second book seems like a super random collection of randomness.

This is the only thing I’ve never read before: Washingtoon by Mark Alan Stanley, and… is this really one of the best things of the decade? Really? Kvetching about the deficit?

This Carol Lay strip unfortunately never seems to get less topical.

Ah! Finally! Something more on-topic for this blog series: Mark Beyer.

I can’t stress how utterly random the last half of the second volume is. Jerry Moriarty: Of course. Concrete by Paul Chadwick? What? I mean, I know that people used to like Concrete, but… what?

Fortunately, Congress instituted a law in 1986 making it illegal to publish an anthology without a Richard Sala piece in it. And then… Hunt Emerson? Well, that’s a piece that has never been published in North America before, so er whatevs.

So: These books are chock full of really good stuff. But perhaps they go on for about fifty pages too long: the books kinda taper off in essentialness (that’s a word).

Most of the major voices from the “punk comix” er “movement” are represented here, but not with their most striking work, and most of them seem to be grudgingly included — including just a single page of Jerry Moriarty, for instance, just seems absurd. And no Ben Katchor, or Sue Coe, or Paul Karasik, or Jayr Pulga, or…

But that’s fine — these books reflect the aesthetics of the editors very clearly: Chatty, clear narratives, politics and jokes. Traditional comics from an Underground tradition.

Thomas Dean writes in Amazing Heroes #181, page 76:

Rtwtws
THE BEST COMICS OF THE
DECADE VOL. 2
Written and illustrated by VARIOUS; edited
by GARY GROTH, KIM THOMPSON and
ROBERT BOYD. Published by
FANTAGRAPHICS BOOKS

The Hernandez brothers, Lynda
Barry, Robert Crumb, Rick Geary,
Eddie Campbell, Dan Clowes, Will
Eisner, Sergio Aragones, Carol Lay,
Paul Chadwick, David Boswell, Dori
Seda.. .and much more! What more
needs to be said? The quality of this
book is self-evident.
So—rather than analyzing the work
itself, I’d like to say a few things about
the nature of the beast. Any time
anybody says that they’re presenting
” they’re in for a lot
“The Best Of..
of debate, so the claim that these are
the best comics of the ’80s is naturally
problematic. Firstly, these are gener-
ally comics of a similar. sort—the
offspring of the undergrounds of the
’60s and ’70s (a Concrete story is the
closest thing to “mainstream” or more
traditionally-produced comics here)—
implying that what might be called
“avant-garde” comics is synonymous
with “the best.” The two terms are not
necessarily synonymous.
While these comics are unquestion-
ably among the best of the decade and
blow away most of what might be
considered more “mainstream” com-
ics, certain types of comics of undeni-
able quality are underrepresented (say,
perhaps, as way of example, Don
Rosa’s Disney stories, or Watchmen).
I’m not really arguing with the editors’
opinions here, but I’m trying to inform
you, the consumer, about what you’re
buying. If you wish a more descriptive
and less evaluative title, I’d call this
Cutting Edge Comics of the Decade.
Also, in some ways, this isn’t really
a selection of “the best” comics as
individual pieces of work so much as
it’s a sampler of these creators’ uorks.
It seems the editors sat around and
said, “Okay, who are the best cre-
ators?” rather than “Which are the
best pieces?” Certainly, it would be
impossible to choose the one R.
Crumb piece that is his “best” above
all others produced in the ’80s, for
example. And perhaps one could
argue that many R. Crumb pieces are
better than any Jim Woodring piece,
yet the two creators receive equal
representation.
So—what this really is is a
compilation of representative works of
some of the finest and most progres-
Sive comics creators of the decade. It
is an important collection. I think the
best audience for this is those who are
unfamiliar with these creators and
would like (or need) a comprehensive
introduction to the cutting edge of
comics today. And pick up Volume
One as well. There, you’ll find Dave
Sim, Bill Griffith, Alan Moore, Art
Spiegelman, Harvey Pekar.. .the
names speak for themselves.

Sure.

Rogers Cadenhead writes in Amazing Heroes #180, page 82:

BEST COMICS OF THE
DECADE VOL. I
Written and illustrated by VARIOUS; edited
by GARY GROTH, KIM THOMPSON and
ROBERT BOYD. Published by
FANTAGRAPHICS BOOKS
There’s so much genuinely good uork
in Best Comics of the Decade Volume
I that I have taken an unorthodox step
to cover my ass: several remarkable
stories and creators have been pur-
posely omitted from this review.
If I attempted to quantify and com-
pare the excellence of work by a
diverse group that ranges from Jules
Feiffer to Mark Marek to Jack Jack-
son, my omissions would speak as
loudly as my selections. As the Acad-
emy of Motion Picture Arts and Sci-
ences knows well at Oscar time,
choosing the best of the best sucks.
Therefore, I’m going to “Do the Right
Thing” here.
Some of the best (but not all!) of
Best Vol. I include:
—”Pictopia” by Alan Moore, Don
Simpson, and three other good folks,
a 13-page fable about the horrors of
continuity and the new mainstream
that should give Marv Wolfman in-
finite crises of guilt.
“Rapture” by Peter Kuper, an il-
lustrated transcript of a Jerry Falwell
sermon that is more damning than
any. laying of hands sessions with
fallen women.
—”O Canada Our Home and Native
Land” by Carel Moiseiwitsch, an
indictment of that country’s war
crimes against Japanese-Canadians
during World War II. Comics jour-
nalism and advocacy at its best.
“Raging Skinbw” J.R. Williams,
a wordless narrative that peels under
the epidermis of the “glamorous”
world of intoxication.

[…]

Though many will gripe at the
omission of mainstream “field hands,”
as Groth is fond of calling them, a
nicer argument is that those wealthy
and beloved folks don’t need the
publicity the way some of Best’s less-
er-kncywn contributors do. A less nice
argument is that mainstream creators
don’t explore new territory and expand
the medium, preferring to remain on
more familiar, well-trod, well-paying
ground.
The least nice argument is made, of
course, by Groth and Thompson in the
Introduction: “Virtually none of the
best examples of comics appeared in
the standard, tacky, four-color super-
hero pamphlets where pungent new
condiments (sex and gore, glossy
paper, higher prices, and glib nihil-
ism) never quite managed to obscure
the stench of 50-year-old ideas—
which hadn’t been all that fresh to
begin with.”
So there. A good vocabulary and a
bad attitude can be an obnoxious
thing, but their traditional arrogance
is certainly well-deserved here.

This blog post is part of the Punk Comix series.

A More Readable ‘C-h b’

It’s annoyed me for, well, decades that one of the (potentially) most useful ways to query Emacs about “well, what commands are available in this mode anyway?”, ‘C-h b’, is less than perfect.

So I’ve tweaked it.

Tada!

Hitting ‘C-h b’ emacs-28 looks like this (by default):

But once you scroll past the 700 key translations, you get to the er juicy bits:

The code in ‘describe-buffer’ (which this is the output of) is very old, and probably hasn’t changed much over the decades. Emacs’s tag-line is, after all, “the self-documenting editor”, and this sort of output has been basic functionality in Emacs from the start.

The reason the layout hasn’t changed much is, basically, that it was implemented in C, and nobody wants to twiddle too much with finicky layout stuff in C. But last year Stefan Kangas reimplemented it all in Emacs Lisp, duplicating the output perfectly so that we’d have a known starting point when we started to change it.

Which I’ve now done.

To compare, side by side:

So the tweaked layout is more compact vertically, and the indentation is more consistent. And the “??” looked so mysterious, so they’re now expanded, and the non-informative “Prefix Command” bits are gone.

But, of course, the most controversial thing is this:

*gasp* A colourful symbol! It cannot be allowed!

We’ll see what the default ends up being. It can be tweaked endlessly by the user, of course. This is Emacs, after all.

PX09: Be a Nose!

Be a Nose! by Art Spiegelman (102x158mm, 136×211, 153x210mm)

This is a set of three small books (and a pamphlet) held together by a stretchy band. This is published by McSweeney’s, and they love to play with book formats. I’m really intrigued, and I’m surprised I didn’t know that this existed. For a few years, I bought absolutely everything McSweeney’s published, but then I kinda forgot to. But… I think this was in the middle of my McSweeney’s phase? Hm. Weird. In any case, I bought it last week.

There’s a pamphlet included that explains what the other three books are: They’re not exactly facsimiles of three of Spiegelman’s sketchbooks, but they’re pretty close. He says he usually abandons his sketchbooks because he gets discouraged, but these three are ones that he carried through with (more or less).

We also get a couple of pages of random talking-on-the-phone doodles in the pamphlet.

Onto the first sketchbook — it’s from 1979, and is the smallest one of the bunch.

It’s also the one that has most comics-like pages, I guess.

But also just a bunch of random stuff.

The second book is the real treasure here: It’s from 1983, which is pretty much Peak Raw Era. This was right before they published the sixth issue of Raw (Possibly The Best Comic Book Ever Published), and Spiegelman and Mouly were hanging out in New York with a bunch of other artists.

This is also before the first Maus volume was published, so Spiegelman wasn’t Officially A Genius yet, and these pages are really interesting.

Just all sorts of random, but interesting stuff.

Even paintings.

Spiegelman was thinking about the design to the seventh Raw issue, the Torn-Again Graphix one, and two of the pages here are also torn. Did McSweeney’s arrange a page-tearing party, like Spiegelman and Mouly did with Raw? Or did McSweeney’s get the printer to tear the pages?

It’s pretty nifty.

Spiegelman’s experimenting with so many different things here… It’s just a very fascinating look at what he was doing at the time.

Spiegelman then gets a lot of other people to drawn in the book, and here we have Giorgio Carpenteri and Jose Muñoz…

And here’s Caro on the right-hand page. Spiegelman abandoned the sketchbook afterwards, having lost steam.

The final sketchbook is from 2007, and reads like it was meant to be published.

That is, it’s chatty and self-conscious, and er not really that interesting.

I mean, in comparison to the 1983 book.

There aren’t that many reviews of it on the web:

As a whole, Be A Nose is a highly enjoyable portrait of Spiegelman’s mind laid bare, and a valuable demonstration of how artists explore and develop techniques and ideas.

Indeed:

Be A Nose is a welcome look into the mind of one of the foremost comic creators. And, like everything McSweeney’s publishes, it’s a gorgeous package. It’s hard to recommend it enough.

Uhm:

McSweeney’s lovingly reproduced Spiegelman’s scribblings, “warts and all.” The 1983 sketchbook, for example, is printed not on heavy duty paper stock but on graph paper. And it contains actual torn pages, not to mention full color illustrations. I’m not sure I’ve seen anything like it.

I think he misunderstood — it’s not printed on graph paper. It’s just a reproduction of a graph paper sketchbook.

Rob Clough’s Top 50 from 2009:

20. Be A Nose!, by Art Spiegelman (McSweeney’s). Spiegelman’s sketchbooks from three separate years: 1979 (the height of his underground experimentation before Raw), 1983 (Raw at its height and Maus in full bloom) and 2007 (his most recent sketchbook). It’s page after page of struggle by an artist with an impeccable eye but whose drafting hands frequently let him down. The title referred to the admonition of a sculptor to a block of granite while chipping away at it: “be a nose! be a nose!”, an expression of his own frustration with this process. A bracingly honest look at the creative stumbling blocks and triumphs of one of the most important names in comics.

This blog post is part of the Punk Comix series.

PX91: Two Life in Hell Fun Calendars

Life in Hell Fun Calendars by Matt Groening (304x306mm)

I was rummaging through stuff in the attic, and I happened upon these old calendars (from 1991 and 2006), so I thought it might be fun to have a quick peek at them.

The first calendar goes from September 91 and all of 92. Is that common? I’m not really much of a calendar shopper…

It feels like a generous package: All the pages are jam-packed with stuff — we get funny asides in the empty squares, and some funny references here and there in the normal days, too. And you should indeed listen to Aksak Maboul, but not just on January 3rd. Oh! And Lynda Barry’s born on January 2nd. All the important dates are here.

Most of the strips seem familiar to me, but there’s a handful I’m pretty sure I haven’t read before.

Like this one. Which is cool.

There’s even an extra two strips in the middle.

So… it’s a really nice calendar that apparently a lot of work has gone into.

The 2005 calendar is a mix of older strips (all of which I think I’ve seen before) and newer strips (that I haven’t seen).

It’s printed on cheaper, shiny paper that has a good bit of bleed-through, and there’s virtually no extras. There’s still a few jokes here and there, but this is much more of a “will this do?” than the first calendar. But I guess you can’t expect people to be as excited doing the fifteenth calendar as when doing their… first? second? one?

Probably the second — this looks like the first one.

This blog post is part of the Punk Comix series.