We need to talk about Ed Piskor
Before we start: This column talks frankly about suicide, online bullying and harassment. I understand that these discussions can be troubling for some readers, so fair warning if you’d rather skip this Long Box entry.
I've been profoundly sad for a few days now over the suicide of Ed Piskor and the tragic circumstances that led to his death. All of this seems now, in retrospect, to have been so easily avoidable.
I want to be sensitive here. There’s a lot we don’t know and will never know, things that will be locked forever in the minds of those involved. We are left with questions that may never be suitably answered.
But, as painful as it is, we do need to talk about it. We need to discuss online bullying and harassment. We need to talk about the divisions in the industry. We need to talk about the allegations directed at Piskor and trial by public opinion and due process.
Piskor, 41, was acclaimed for his independent work like “Hip Hop Family Tree” and Marvel’s “X-Men: Grand Design” and was a co-host and prominent voice on the “Cartoonist Kayfabe” YouTube show with artist Jim Rugg.
For those unfamiliar with Piskor and the accusations directed at him, here’s a brief, oversimplified account of what happened.
In late March, 21-year-old Philadelphia artist Molly Dwyer posted screenshots of DMs sent to her by Piskor in 2020, when she was 17 and he was 38, alleging he'd attempted to groom her. Shortly after, another woman, Molly Wright, came forward, claiming Piskor attempted to trade a sexual favor with her in return for his agent's phone number.
The internet outrage was swift and damning1. An exhibition of Piskor's art, scheduled in April at a Pittsburgh gallery, was canceled, and a $75,000 deal to make a cartoon of Piskor's "Switchblade Shorties" comic collapsed overnight. Rugg posted that he was disassociating from Piskor.
Then, on Monday, April 1 — ironically, as those who read it speculated it could have been a poor April Fool’s joke — Piskor posted a brutally heart-wrenching 2,497-word suicide2 note to his Facebook page. In it, he addresses the allegations, talks about his family and ramifications of his death, and names names.
"I knew I wasn’t going to be able to survive this," he wrote. "Comics is beyond a profession to me. It’s everything,"
I did read the note in its entirety, and it crushed me — fair warning if you choose to do the same. Piskor's words come across as authentic in their finality.
Piskor was a polarizing figure. His "Red Room," for instance, was graphically horrific, too much so even for me, and I have a high tolerance for the macabre. Wearing clothing and adopting speech reflective of his love of hip-hop led to criticism of cultural appropriation. Piskor irritated members of the community by mouthing off on “Cartoonist Kayfabe” about fellow creators. To me, Piskor presented as ungainly and nerdy, like that one socially awkward kid at school who tried too hard to be cool and edgy and failed at both.3
The worst that can be said about Piskor's DMs with Dwyer are how cringe-inducingly awkward they are. None of them struck me as intentional grooming; this seemed more like a social misfit and introvert desperately trying to present himself as cool and “with it” during a time of extreme isolation and stress — inappropriately so as a 38-year-old man addressing a 17 year old, yes. Inadvisable and outside the bounds of good taste but not illegal or criminal. The charges leveled at Piskor didn’t seem close to those justifiably directed at others in the industry. We will never know Piskor’s true intent. He denied the charges in his suicide note.
What stunned me was the speed-of-light coalescence of opinion on social media that immediately painted Piskor as an irredeemable pedophile, a portrayal that was uncritically amplified and repeated as truth. The furor fed on itself, a cascade that quickly reached terminal velocity. At no point did anyone suggest pushing pause and evaluating the accusations’ merits. Any objective assessment of merit is now next to impossible in such a divisive atmosphere.
Why the divisiveness? I should explain here that the personalities who provide commentary on the comics industry via social media fall into two distinct and mutually opposed camps: comicsgate and anti-comicsgate. I’ll leave it to you to research the merits and manifestos of each, but both sides have set themselves up as a litmus test for what comics are and should be (and, naturally, what they shouldn’t). Anyone who dares disagree potentially opens themselves to a cascade of harassment. Fear of cancelation rules the discussion, as most creators who earn their living through comics know that they could lose that livelihood from a single out-of-context post.
Even now, both sides’ representatives are online, desperately struggling to spin the fallout from Piskor’s suicide, either to avoid blame or, shamelessly, gain something from it.4
This overreaction to the accusation, Piskor’s death, and the events leading up to and through it, has had a chilling effect on many of the comic communities I’m a part of. Many friends and colleagues are stepping away from social media as a result — not out of guilt but out of fear, disgust and disappointment. Me too. I even had second thoughts about broaching the topic in this column for fear of the repercussions.
But this tragedy — and it was a tragedy for all involved — mustn’t be swept aside. Personally, I hope, maybe too optimistically, it will be a moment of self-reflection for those self-appointed governors of social media’s town square, at least as far as comics are concerned. Somehow, I doubt it.
RECOMMENDATIONS … In light of this heavy subject matter, my only recommendation this week is that if you are facing depression or considering suicide or are in crisis or worried about someone who is, please, please, please reach out for help. In the U.S., you can call the 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline by dialing 988, which provides services and help.
In the U.K.: the National Suicide Prevention Helpline UK on 0800 689 5652 (6 p.m. to midnight every day).
Be kind to each other, folks.
… and without due process. While, yes, I do think we should be sensitive to “victims” and hear them out, we also need to carefully consider the accused. “Trust,” as the old journalistic adage goes, “but verify.”
Here’s a link to his note. Again, be in a good mental space if you choose to access this and read it.
I should interject here to note that I didn’t know Piskor. Sure, I knew of him—who in the industry didn’t? I am not particularly well-versed in the controversies surrounding him that I touch on here. (It seems that anyone in the comics industry with a profile above a certain degree is de facto controversial and attracts as much hate as love.)
I did meet him in person once at the Baltimore Comic-Con in 2022, which I detail in this column. Social media doesn’t like to deal in nuance or complexity. Things are black or they are white, and those in the comics space with sizable followings don’t do well with shades of gray, and neither do their followers who are only chasing a momentary dopamine hit. We'd best remember that that complexity exists for us all and to live by the sword risks dying by it, too, so practice some goddamn compassion, you assholes!
Piskor’s suicide details a whisper network, long rumored in the comics industry to be working behind the scenes. While that strikes me as a tad dramatic of an assertion, I believe there are elements of truth to it, in that a small number of individuals have substantial numbers of followers they can marshal and who follow their lead uncritically, leading to tsunami-levels of online accusation. Maybe they never initially meant it to happen that way, but we can’t deny what it’s become.