I got the first issue of
New Beginning years ago in one of those $1 for 10 comic books grab-bags. I don't know why I kept it for all these years. Probably because it's such an anomaly of 1980s independent comic books.
After publishing the first issue in 2010, I began trying to find the remaining issues. I knew there were at least two more and I finally obtained them through eBay in 2016, but during my journey, I discovered there was a fourth and final issue.
I got the final issue in 2020 at the height of lockdown and, wouldn't you know it, it ends on a cliffhanger. I'm open to promoting this long-forgotten comic book published by comic book store people if they have any interest in continuing it or revealing how the story ends.
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July 26, 1965 |
Remember when you need a massive machine with all these buttons, dials, and lights to spend five minutes figuring out 2 + 2?
I zoomed in that man just to verify that he was using an abacus. Sadly, it's a bucktoothed Chinese man with overly slanted eyes and a queue and looking quite dastardly so that's a shame.
AI is awful. I, for one, am glad that it is quickly showing it's awfulness. Quit stealing things other people have created.
For fun, I asked ChatGPT to offer some snarky commentary on today's strip: Gladys, always the bearer of doom and gloom, is at it again, warning about the perils of artificial intelligence. But Brutus, ever the nostalgist, can't help but reminisce about simpler times when the biggest worry was whether artificial sweeteners would rot your insides. Oh, how times have changed! Who knew that worrying about our appliances taking over the world would replace fretting over saccharin? Maybe he's onto something – at least with artificial sweeteners, you only risked a cavity, not a robot uprising! It's clearly trying too hard but the "robot uprising" comment is actually pretty good and now I'm sad.
At least Chip's job is safe. ChatGPT wrote a Born Loser and, for some reason, added a couple references to Garfield. The Thornapples don't even have a cat.
Panel 1:
[Scene: Brutus, the main character, is standing in front of a mirror, trying to squeeze into a too-tight shirt. His face is contorted in discomfort.]
Brutus (thinking): "Maybe I should've skipped that second helping of lasagna..."
Panel 2:
[Brutus manages to get the shirt on, but it's so tight that buttons are popping off. He looks ridiculous.]
Brutus: "Why do I even bother with shirts that have buttons?"
Panel 3:
[Brutus, defeated, stands in front of his mirror, shirt now completely unbuttoned and hanging off him like a tattered flag. His expression is resigned.]
Brutus: "Ah well, who needs dignity anyway?"
[His cat, lurking in the background, gives a deadpan look, as if to say, "Speak for yourself."]