Sex ain't a sacrament, because rape sure as hell ain't no black mass.
Wrote your last best words during the Bush administration . . . the George H. W. Bush administration. Your effort left the building when Crazy Jane walked off Danny the Street.
His collaborators on Sandman probably at least got paid in something other than beer. Probably. Won a bet against God that he couldn't write a book worth reading after Sandman.
Your uncle's loft apartment in Staten Island, and the only thing left to read in the bathroom is a copy of Wired from June 1994. A cassette tape copy of Sugar's Easy Listening is playing in the kitchen.
Brian K. Vaughan
I've never before met a man whose goal in life was to become a Showtime Original Series.
I've never before met a man whose goal in life was to become an FX Original Series.
Brian Michael Bendis
Sold his soul to the two Davids - Mamet and E. Kelley, got change back for a $20. Thinks $4 for 20 pages of stuttering is money well spent.
One day the backmatter in the trade is going to tell us that his run on Journey Into Mystery was a secret glyph opening a portal to an alternate history where Earth vs. the Pipettes was the catalyst for the successful formation of the Fifth International.
Every comics writer has that moment where they realize they stopped being that edgy indie creator who works in mainstream comics to fund his edgy indie books and instead became a mainstream comics writer whose rapidly dwindling spare time is eaten up by conference calls with emotionally needy editors. You reenact this moment every day like Guy Pearce waking up at the beginning of Memento.
Don't worry, little boy, you'll beat that cancer yet.
True story: once said in an interview he always imagined he'd end up working for Fantagraphics. Probably still got the better part of the deal.
Los Bros Hernandez
Good News! Comics finally made it out of the low-art ghetto!
Bad News! Welcome to the academic backwater of American literary regionalism!
Like a kid whose mom sends him suitcases of Ding Dongs to smuggle into fat camp, Seth curls up in his jammies every night and listens to Katy Perry on his iPod Nano before bed.
Ain't no way to a shame a man who released a 300 page first-person memoir about paying for it called Paying For It.
You've got everyone's number. Makes a good substitute for having to try.
There's another universe where Peanuts folded after two years and Charles Schulz became a parks manager in Boulder, CO. He was a very happy person.
Been messin' around on a Wacom tablet in his spare time.
Got to heaven, let out a deep mournful grunt when he saw Walt Disney's signature stamped onto the cornices.
Probably deserves every bit of credit alongside his collaborators, but will go to his grave vaguely dissatisfied by the fact that no one likes a company man.
Had the misfortune to pick the least remunerative industry possible relative to his talent. Most likely could have made more money drawing department store underwear ads.
Has spent twenty-five years in a dogged campaign to convince people he's nowhere near as smart as we once gave him credit for. To be admired for his tenacity.
Once the biggest artist in all comics, full-stop, and the smartest businessman to boot. Hasn't made a single good decision since 1994. I don't like making fun of people with diminished capacities. Took his brain out to play with and lost it under the bed.
One of the dominant forces in mainstream comics for over twenty years, still can't grow a God-damn mustache.
Will die happier, richer, and more fulfilled than every other person on this list.