Hodgson's Law/Bellisario's Maxim, people.
It's just a webcomic.
Even I find it amusing that, with all the arguing going on, this is the point upon which I choose to take a stand, but… still… here’s another stupidly long post, but one that I think is important.
I’ve mentioned elsewhere my M.A. in English. Well, this is my research area. I study the cognitive origins and bases of narrative (especially in the area of what we tend to call mythic texts, including modern superhero stories… but that’s not really relevant here).
The reason I’m bringing this up is that there’s nothing more powerful than narrative in terms of human psychology. One of the reasons we create stories is that they are a way of projecting our inner psychological conflicts out into the world, where we can then interact with them and, hopefully, resolve the originating conflicts. These projections—narratives—can also help facilitate this process in others, as reading a story allows for the same projection as creation, although not perfectly, as certain details which are idiosyncratic to the author will not have the same meaning (if any) for the audience.
(Eight hundred paragraphs edited out because, dammit, although my research fascinates me, the details don’t help my immediate point).
The key thing here is the process of projection. As we read, we project ourselves onto the narrative as a whole, and parts of ourselves onto the characters. We invest ourselves in the text, connecting with it, the author, and each other in doing so. The problem is that some of those connections are a little shaky, since each individual is projecting a different part of him-or-herself onto the same images. Thus, one person’s Dora is a less-abstract webcomic-incarnation of that bitch that tore out his heart, while another’s Dora is a more-abstract depiction of, for instance, the need to accept and love oneself in order to develop as an individual (do you
really think it’s a coincidence that Dora and Marten have grown to resemble each other physically?).
Still, although we’re all interacting with the text in different ways, what’s important is that all of those ways are incredibly intimate and personal, and that this is, actually, an essential cognitive process. When we dismiss texts as “only a movie” or “only a webcomic,” we’re choosing to ignore the power that these texts have in our hearts, minds, and lives.
When we trivialize our involvement with the text, we’re deliberately ignoring the power it has over us, and that’s dangerous. Suddenly, somebody’s popped the hood on our brains (without necessarily meaning to) and is messing around in there (also without meaning to), and is, if we’ve given the text enough power, changing the way we think (without our being aware of it). So, while some texts
are light, easily-digested fluff that never really resonates with us, it’s important that, when we do get worked up, we (first take a step back and remember that not everyone is sharing our idiosyncratic experience and then) examine
why we’re so invested in the text, rather than just dismissing it.
For the record, yes, in retrospect, I know I should have tried to get “tl;dr” as my screen name.