The foremost authority on comics in the computer age is not, as some believe, one that proposes a reinvention of that form, rather it is an essay published in English in 1968 entitled "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction," written some years before by Walter Benjamin (Illuminations, Harcourt Brace). That few in comics communities discuss this treatise comes as no surprise. We gravitate to the familiar and claim an excuse to support our interests: we prefer our medium fit the message. Online comics should be discussed online, and comics theory should be presented in comics form. Yet Benjamin's investigations into technology deserve here to be seen in contrast to the online comics currently shaping our perceptions of the potential of that form: Comics.com, Artcomic.com and cOiNTEL.de.

Benjamin's theories begin with the premise that technology is of undeniable import to the techniques of art forms, effecting as it does a change on both artistic processes as well as on the definition of art in a generalized way. Advancing technologies under capitalism have increasingly allowed for mechanical reproduction of works of art, which has caused a shift in the accessibility and mobility of art works. The move in art to become less rooted in place and more available to individual whims of exhibition changed public perceptions of art and further allowed the reproduction of works of art to become a form of art in itself. Benjamin, primarily referring to the increased technological profluence of forms such as lithography, photography, and film, prophetically quotes Paul Valéry's Aesthetics: "Just as water, gas and electricity are brought into our houses from far off to satisfy our needs . . . so we shall be supplied with visual or auditory images, which will appear and disappear at a simple movement of the hand" (Pantheon, 226). With this generalized description of technological advancement (and eerily precise description of Internet availability), Benjamin creates a strong case for his essay to describe, yes, comics in the digital age.

The narrative of any work of art as an object, including its history of ownership and physical location, makes that work authentic, original and unique. It is understood without exception that authenticity is not reproducible, and therefore that reproductions of originals are in some way inferior. Yet mechanical (and now, digital) reproductions can bring previously unseen aspects of works of art to the fore, and are mobile, and therefore user-friendly. Reproductions of works of art lose something of the original, namely that history described above which Benjamin labels the "aura." Comics sit uneasily in the history of art, and this is explainable when we realize that comics as a form, deriving from both literature and drawing, came into being along with certain technological advancements: the newspaper strip was the birth of comics as a medium, as separate from either of its originary fields. Necessitating reproduction as a function of itself, comics were born without the aura Benjamin describes, without the value placed on authenticity (although the nostalgia and economics of collecting have since reconjured this value).

It follows that strips appearing in newspaper form are more liable to be immediately comprehensible as comics. Obversely, comics that appear in the most newspapers will define the form for the widest number of people. Ask twenty people amassed in any location to give an example of comic art and most will mention Peanuts, some will offer Dilbert, and fewer will describe panels from The New Yorker. These are the comics available on Comics.com, described in its own press release as "the home of comics on the web." This is not refutable, for if we allow the strips that define comics for the most people to translate automatically into a definition of Internet comics (and we have not yet settled on an alternative definition), we are left with what Comics.com offers: no mere view from your desktop that could otherwise be found in popular publications, the site translates these comics into purchasable amusements for those who are stuck at a computer monitor for much of the day and must appear to be working. Here, technology is utilized in the same way it would be constructed by people with no imaginations; viewers can send comics, reproduced exactly as they appear in publications, to friends who will receive them at their own desks at work. Site visitors may download such atrocities as "Desktop Diversions," which include cursors and link icons, or can purchase items premade with favorite characters already applied. Thematically, Comics.com limits itself to competently or even interestingly drawn banalities expounding on themes such as working on a computer, or raising children on the wages earnable by working on a computer. Comics.com takes the funny pages a step further than is possible with print versions of these strips, yet the paths for travel available from this location are only claustrophobic.

Art forms must change. As Benjamin outlines, art derived originally from a need for ritualistic objects. When art and ritual divorced, art objects became removable from their original locations. In this way, public presentability changed the very nature of art. We currently focus on the exhibition value of art objects, much as prehistoric peoples focused on the ritualistic values of art objects. In doing so, we shift the terms of the discussion of art so severely that while we now understand artistic value to be tantamount, it is possible that in the future, art will serve another function altogether. Benjamin saw film and photography as the best possible indicators of what this new function could be, each lacking an original and reliant on mechanics. Photography in particular was mired in its early days in arguments over whether or not it could be considered an art form at all. In Benjamin's view, this obscured the significant question of whether or not photography had changed the fundamental nature of art.

Photography and film, while both have been intimately linked with direct social changes, are even more significant for the revolutionary nature they inflict on viewers of these mediums. To participate in the presentation of a film, for example, the viewer holds a certain amount of knowledge about the subject matter at hand; whether a basic understanding of filmic language, a comprehension of the natural objects filmed, or an agreement to participate in the fantasy the film unrolls. In this way, viewers can be said to be experts in film in a way they may not in painting or opera singing. Newsreels, Benjamin points out, although now home video and reality TV stand as equally apt examples, allow the viewer to participate in the process of being filmed. Viewers can now move easily between remaining viewers or becoming actors almost without any noticeable shift in consciousness.

Artcomic.com attempts to make use of this very principle. An online collective of lesser-known artists, the site provides a wider definition of comics than that imaginable while looking at the popular Comics.com. While the site is at the low end of the technological spectrum, it begins to open opportunities for conceiving of online comics in a revolutionary way. The black and white palette, for example, deviations from which would be unthinkable in the site previously discussed, is here not to be taken for granted - yet nonetheless shows up with regularity. Colors when used tend toward the pre-boxed assortment available for marking folders from the desktop of any Macintosh (Hot! Essential! Personal!, etc.). The comics are original, which is to say, not reliant on set plotlines previously tested in Marmaduke, and images are appropriated and given new meanings at will. Some pieces are not even recognizable as comics; "Ask Mr. Know-it-All" (mister@artcomic.com) is simply variable text with the same logo repeated in each panel, the humor stemming from the ridiculousness of questions or wackiness of answers. There are occasional items of interest to be found here: The Parking Lot is Full by Jack McLaran and Pat Spacek, for example, features single panels (although black on white again) with genuinely intriguing texts ("the guy at the variety store . . . is actually the son of a god you've never heard of"), and yet the site is most recognizable for remaining up since 1995. Far too often, the only signifier of artistic intervention to be found comes from the occasional decorative "art" borders lining the screens, and the list of not-so-prestigious awards from various sources (Featured in the Centre for the Easily Amused, ProToon Top Pick, and a Comix Web "Best of 95" Award).

Such awards are reminiscent of Benjamin's argument that mass experiences determine the experience of the individual. Film, created for display in front of masses, is in a position to be received differently than painting. The Web sits uneasily between the two, for while it is created for individual experience, it is created in such a way that individuals are still able to react in an amassed way; information about the Web is disseminated through word of mouth, but the sum total of those receiving that word operate as a mass in the Benjaminian sense. By involving more individuals in the means of participation, the very ways of participating have changed. "The fact that the new mode of participation first appeared in a disreputable form must not confuse the spectator" (Harcourt Brace, 239), Benjamin states; the distinction between art and entertainment has always beleaguered discussions of art. Think of entertainment, including Hollywood movies, reality TV and the Internet as distractions. Architecture, possibly the oldest art form still in existence, represents a work of art absorbed in a state of distraction: because it has always been a necessity, architecture is in constant use. Buildings are perceived in two manners; by touch and by sight. Benjamin describes a tourist visiting a famous building and notes that this style of relationship to architecture misses the point. The building can only be comprehended incidentally, or through regular, consistent use; through habit. Film, a popular distraction, allows opportunities for the public to examine itself in an entertained manner, yet allows self-examination to pass through the unaware viewer.

That this structure is applicable to Internet comics should be self-evident. But Benjamin's basic point is a political one, and here we will stop short of such theories. I only wish to set up an understanding of the significance of whether or not the Web is art or entertainment; that it could prove to be a little more of the latter only provides us further opportunities for unpredicted - unforseen - education.

While theorists have discussed endlessly the future and potential of online comics, such discussions inevitably quicksand into such questions as: Should comics appear online at all? Should animation be used simply because it can? Is republishing print work online an effective use of technology? It should be clear from my brief overview of Benjamin's essay that the answers to these three questions may be: yes; absolutely; and who cares, since questions of originality in comics are moot regardless. The Benjaminian restatement of the potential for Internet comics, then, becomes clear: How will digital technology change the very nature of art, and comics in particular?

Potential answers vary wildly, and by necessity reveal writers' personal tastes and preferences for the form. It will be obvious then in what direction I would like to see comics head in coming years. Clearly, I would prefer comics to become even more popular, and develop recruitive aspects. I want comics to utilize democratic potential, and pull new readers in through participation in the creation of the very comic a new reader may have stumbled upon by accident. I wish for comics to build upon the simplest of drawing styles and yet utilize technologies far greater in the overall process of creation. And I wish for comics creators to become involved in these technologies to the degree of their individual interests and abilities.

In short, I wish for Internet comics to look like cOiNTEL.de, a simple self-instructive viewer-dependent website where comics are created by anyone from anywhere and storyline is decided through popular vote. "We want to milk your worldwide brains and put it online," the site's creators describe the process. Interactivity is encouraged through oversimplified self-appearing instructions on the use of technology and the innovative voting process, where ties are settled in the distinctly unpatriotic manner of simply allowing both panels to coexist, each veering the strip off into a different narrative. The panels, of equal size and shape, unite the black-and-white drawings while the wide variety of drawing styles and talents provide more than enough visual intrigue to keep the "viewer's" (for we call the term into question here: where Artcomic.com fails to allow the easy transition between viewer and actor, this site succeeds) attention, and build it occasionally to a degree approaching a need for participation. Overlaid with weird-sounding MIDI noises, which serve primarily to remind you that you are in the strange virtual space called the World Wide Web, and with a color and design scheme approaching a children's book about the desert, cOiNTEL.de will hopefully stand as a start for the future of comics in the digital age. For if we are indeed choosing a brand new function for art through this new technology, I want cOiNTEL.de to help create the new definition.

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