Michael Whitney

Michael received a degree in Journalism from the University of Colorado at Boulder. It made an excellent paper airplane. After spending one year at a newspaper and one year at a news wire, he escaped into Web development and promptly forgot both grammar and AP style.

Michael Whitney PRE-views Four New Blood Webcomics

By: Michael Whitney
Department: Reviews
Issue: August 2004 Issue

Usually, the Comixpedia waits at least a year to review a webcomic. It's only fair, since most creators are still developing their voices in the first 6 months and figuring out what they can do with a pen and ink or Photoshop. If you were to judge some of your current favorite comics solely by their first offering, you might never have kept reading.

Chris Onstad's Achewood, reviewed by Michael Whitney


A friend summed it up this way: "Achewood is just ... weird," she said. She obviously liked it -- maybe because it is weird, maybe because it's also so familiar.

Little Gamers by Fundin and Madsen, reviewed by Michael Whitney

By: Michael Whitney
Department: Reviews
Issue: January 2004 Issue

If you've ever been in an online game, you've probably watched two barely literate guys duke it out using the chat functions. The typical lame insults are usually thrown around. One guy is a pussy. One guy's mother is a whore. It's basically a nerds' table slap fight moved from the high school cafeteria to the Internet.

Boy on a Stick and Slither by Steven Cloud, reviewed by Michael Whitney


In an arena that's crowded with elaborate Sci-Fi themes, baroque fantasy themes and byzantine plots, it�s refreshing to note that one of the best comics on the Web features two main characters who don't even have arms.

Get Your War On by David Rees, reviewed by Michael Whitney


In the weeks after Sept. 11, when anthrax was flying through the postal system like AOL free samplers, and flags suddenly sprouted from every crack in the ground, pop culture balled into a foetal position and rolled under a table. You were there, too, so you can’t deny you saw it. American pop culture briefly became nothing less than a 24-hour, instantly-updated funeral service with occasional breaks for scary news stories about "dirty bombs."

Every comedian had a somber speech about being unable to make jokes. Talking heads debated the patriotism of disagreeing with the President. The editor of Vanity Fair, stretching that magazine's authority just a bit, officially declared irony "dead."

That's when David Rees started tearing it all apart with the caustic sarcasm of Get Your War On.