GEORGE COMIX
Edited by Wolf Smith
1990 - 1996
There was a period from the late 80’s to the
early 90’s when I was a part of a large social
fanboy circle based in L. A. who’s
boundaries included a monthly comic con,
several local Japanese Animation clubs on
any given weekend and the yearly fanboy
tribe gathering, San Diego Comic Con. Like
any circle, there would be your ‘types’ that
were, for the lack of a better term, ‘hip’ and
‘unhip’. Not that I was looking for anything
near ‘hip’ in my stupid life, but whatever this
fanboy version was, “it” was much better
than what social crap I had in school.
As for the ‘unhip’ part, they were the much bigger
fanboys out there, fanboys to the ninth degree, so
rooted in their ways that even us regulars wanted
nothing to do with them. Sure, there was some
sympathy as we found a bit of ourselves in their
social awkwardness and all, but they didn’t help
their case as, for whatever personal reasons we
didn’t want to know, they sadly couldn’t help
themselves being more annoying than we were.
This gap lead to the creation of GEORGE COMIX
in 1990.

Just in case you’re curious, yes, there was a
George that inspired this brief zine series. He was,
as Hank Hill would describe, “just ain’t right.”  His
mannerisms, speech and scruffy look made some
nervous, but he was friendly enough to
tolerate…at first. He made some effort to be
friendly, though he didn’t have enough social skills
which created endless uncomfortable and
embarrassing moments at cons and fanboy
gatherings. It got to a point where one frustrated
fanboy/artist had enough of him, grabbed fellow
‘victims’ together and produced the first issue.

Number one, well as the rest of the series, was
based on the already growing urban legend
surrounding George: from his favorite food of Ice
Tacos (ice cubes in taco shells), blowing a wad on
a expensive Betamax and wondered why his $200
worth of VHS tapes wouldn’t fit, his overgrown
unibrow, his fixation with the old Anime character
Eve, his fear of something called ‘Babyhead’ to his
mumbling. Some artists used this zine’s structure
to take their frustration on “morons” in general
society.
With each new issue, the aura of George was growing. Some people behind the comic were selling copies at the
same cons George was attending; he even forcibly signed a copy against a buyer’s will. In essence, he became
our little Baba Booey.

That was until the joke took its course and the last issue (#5, 1996) was produced. Since then, George has gone
down in history and has dropped out of our little now-evaporated scene and into medication. As funny as some of
these comics were, I read them now with a certain amount of self-consciousness as I remember I was treated
similarly back in school, minus the art and zine part. I learned one harsh lesson from this, no matter what “click”
you find yourself in, there’s always going to be a need for a picking order to unload upon, either by choice or, in
George’s case, fate and bad DNA karma.
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