DOGVELOPMENT LOG #3: In Which Scott McCloud Validates My Existence

Happy Almost-New-Year! I'm finally reading Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud, and it's validated both this project and my entire existence.

One chapter of the book focuses on the power of the cartoon.  I'm paraphrasing, but the basic idea is that the closer an image is to the abstract/iconographic, the more relatable it becomes. We can turn two dots and a curved line into a smiling face - any smiling face, including our own - in a way that is impossible for more detailed images. The more detailed the image, the thinking goes, the harder it is to process it as universal. In a way, icons are made to be seen through.

So here I am, in a ridiculous blanket contraption I got for Christmas and already adore, reading this really well-researched line of thought. I'm following along on a hypothetical level, when it hits me:

Oh shoot.

He's talking about stock photos.

Who is this man? Why is he holding a computer that says we've been hacked? How did we get hacked? Heck - what type of laptop is he even holding?

The answer to any of these questions doesn't matter, because we already process the image as purely representational. In the same way that two dots and a curved line make a smile, we see this incredibly strange photo, recognize that the topic is 'hacking', and move on.

The effect is genuinely fascinating, because unlike a cartoon or obvious icon, like the 'STOP' symbol, there is little about this photo that communicates its universal nature aside from usage and format. Humanity has just mutually decided to perceive millions of photos as generic billboards for other messages, and we accept (or mock) these pictures on the abstract level they're supposed to occupy.

When we see this photo at the top of an article about 'business'...

...or look at a Pinterest wall about 'friendship', with this image inside...

...or even look at a dog in a video game about An Airport for Aliens Currently Run by Dogs, we instantly know what it means. It is to be seen through, not seen.

I could use 3D dog models, or separate the dogs from their backgrounds, but changing that design decision would mean losing this magical little element that makes the game relatable. Dog Airport Game works because these pups can mean anything, and nothing. They're blank spots of possibility in an infinite canvas. They can assume an avalanche of nuance that would otherwise be impossible to convey.

They're us.

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Here's a link to buy Understanding Comics from Amazon. It isn't an affiliate link or anything, I just really want you to experience the joy of reading this book as soon as possible.