The comics and ‘zines of Jason T. Miles (generally self-published under his G.O.A.T. Comics imprint) uniformly confuse, confound, and challenge me, but even by his standards, his semi-recent (last year? I dunno) B&W mini, titled — nothing, I guess, but listed on his site as No Title — is a quixotic and mercurial beast, its aims and intentions as impossible to pin down as the nature of its threadbare “narrative,” a true case of what’s happening being as fluid and open to any interpretation as why it’s happening.
I will say this much, though — the “people” in it sure do say “fuck” a lot.
Which, I mean, isn’t a knock at all — I do the same myself. To the point where it even works my own nerves. It’s kinda cute — for lack of a better word immediately coming to mind — in this comic, though, not that I could tell you why. Which is par for the course here, because “why” is a question never far from one’s mind as one — errrmmm — “reads” it.
“What” may have it beat, though, truth be told. What am I looking at? What’s happening? What are these shapes, these drawings, these — everything? If you’re not willing to put in some work on your own end, you’re not going to get much from this mini. And by “not much,” I think I mean “anything at all.”
Even that’s likely negotiable, though. All perspectives and points of view tend to be so on Planet Miles. Fixed points don’t exist, but just because they don’t exist doesn’t mean you can’t intuit their presence. And just because you can intuit their presence doesn’t mean they exist. You see where I’m going here — or maybe you don’t — but it’s not like it really matters. “Where I’m going” has a lot less to do with the value of this particular work than where it takes you — and that could be anywhere at all, nowhere at all, and/or all points between.
Look, what it all boils down to is this : there’s a very real chance that these 16 pages will blow your mind far more than perhaps even the best hit of acid you’ve ever dropped — and at just a dollar (same price as my Patreon, but we’ll get to that soon enough), it’s a whole hell of a lot cheaper. If that’s not enough to convince you to give it a whirl then I don’t know what else (or what more) it could possibly take, but I feel like my job here is done — or as “done” as I can do it, at any rate. Miles’ comics probably make the whole idea of “criticism” redundant at best, utterly useless at worst, and while that doesn’t prevent me from giving the act of analyzing and appraising them on the basis of their merits an honest effort, it does mean that my own modest little write-up here was likely pre-destined to end the way any other critic’s would, to wit : I’ve said all I can say about this book, just get the damn thing and decide for yourself.
Order No Title directly from Jason T. Miles at https://jasontmiles.com/No-Title
And while you’re spending a buck for stuff, please consider joining my Patreon site, where I serve up exclusive thrice-weekly rants and ramblings on the worlds of comics, films, television, literature, and politics for exactly that price per month. Your support also ensures a steady supply of free content both here and at my trashfilmguru movie site, so please help a guy out by heading over to https://www.patreon.com/fourcolorapocalypse