The Mastodon Ultimate Comic Book Starter Pack

Unless you’ve been living under a rock—or worse, living without social media, which, let’s face it, is living under a rock—then you already know: social media is a shitstorm. Not just a casual shitstorm. We’re talking Category 5, storm-of-the-century-level chaos. It’s not a place you’d want to be, let alone casually visit.

Take X, formerly known as Twitter. What once was a buzzing cocktail party of ideas and conversation is now a seedy dive bar. It’s crawling with grifters hawking crypto and snake oil (or, y’know, boner pills) and overrun with the kind of people who make you wish bots were the only problem. And Meta? Oh, Meta. The Zuckiverse. It’s like that sketchy neighbor who was never trustworthy but has finally stopped pretending otherwise. Zuckerberg’s doing a full mask-off routine, straight-up proving that, once again, only “dumb fucks” trust him. His words, not mine.

Leaving X was, honestly, easier than I thought. I’ve been on that platform since ’06—yeah, back when it was actually cool. It was like finding your tribe in the wild, connecting with people from all corners of the globe over weird, wonderful conversations. But over time, the party fizzled out, the music sucked, and by the time Elon strutted in with his flamethrower, the place was already dead to me. Closing up shop? Barely a shrug.

Facebook, though—that was tougher to quit. Not because I loved it—hell no—but because everyone I knew was there. It was like the digital Thanksgiving dinner you couldn’t escape. But then the pandemic hit, I got locked out of my account (thanks, two-factor authentication), and when I finally clawed my way back in, guess what? It was like I’d never left. Same old posts, same old crap. Nobody even noticed I was gone. Classic Facebook.

Instagram, though? That was my Achilles’ heel. Say what you will, but I love a good pretty picture. Stunning art, slick graphics, killer vibes—it was a playground for meeting illustrators, colorists, letterers, and other creative geniuses. Leaving that was rough. It felt like walking out of an art gallery and knowing you might never find another quite like it.

But these days? You’ll find me on Bluesky and Mastodon. Bluesky’s got that fresh, fun energy, and yeah, it’s packed with cool people. But let me be real: closed networks are breeding grounds for what writer Cory Doctorow likes to call enshittification. That’s when a platform starts selling out its soul, putting profits over people, and you, my friend, are locked in with no exit strategy.

Mastodon, though? Now that’s the sweet spot. It’s smaller, sure, but it’s federated. Think of it like a cluster of clubhouses—if you don’t like one, you just pack your bags, hop to the next, and bring your followers with you. No lock-ins, no bullshit. It’s like a social media utopia for people who actually get it.

I dig Mastodon, and I want you to dig it, too. That’s why I put together the Mastodon Ultimate Comic Book Starter Pack. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill, corporate-spun, soulless comic crap. This is the a longbox of creativity! Visionary artists. Colorists. Inkers. Letterers. Publishers. Webcomics. The absolute best indie talent you’ve ever seen. This is the good stuff. The real stuff.

So here’s the deal: Go join Mastodon. Follow me while you’re at it. And when you’re there, create your own damn starter pack of folks you dig. Don’t just take. Give. Thats how we keep this thing alive. You’re welcome.