#AT4W

[the-uncanny-dag]

Fatphobia is when Doug Walker (skinny) gets people to reference his review persona in cartoons in spite of being guilty of numerous borderline felonies along with his brother & manager, but Lewis Lovhaug (fat) gets harassed for views he hasn't held since the last decade, bullied for corny bad comics he made in 00s while being barely out of high school & put in cringe comps for not reacting placidly to the shit other people pull on him for no reason

[nashscribblings]

We got @atopfourthwall this week!

"Yar, mateys, set sail for tha horizon! I can't be gettin' any more points off me license!"

[inbarfink]

Okay, so to recap…

Lesley’s room is at the top (?) of a staircase found on the wall across from the Three of Them’s kitchen - the one normally obscured by the camera angle.

That’s a very obvious reference to the meta concept of the ‘Fourth Wall’ - the name coming from how a theatre set of a room obviously has one wall ‘missing’ so that the audience can see. In this case, the ‘Fourth Wall’ is where the camera and crew would be, but the concept is very similar. 

And since Lesley sits seemingly on the top floor of this Fourth Wall…

you can say that she’s….

Atop the 4th Wall?

[cosmignon]

ID: A drawing of 90 dude from Atop the Fourth Wall mimicking the Sonic Adventure box art, but with the left arm posed in the opposite direction. End ID.

I drew this from memory then had to check what the sonic pose was from so I could describe it and realized I got it wrong… that’s no problem though……. 90s Dude is 2 kewl for getting the pose right………..

[atopfourthwall]

An analog horror now available digitally and physically. Includes three new segments and director's commentary! Purchase the DVD here: https://kunaki.com/sales.asp?PID=PX00Z4VR4Z&pp=1 Purchase it digitally here: https://vimeo.com/ondemand/winterof83 Purchase all individual Atop the Fourth Wall DVDs here: https://kunaki.com/msales.asp?PublisherId=136024&pp=1

[masterofthez]

Got a new pin!

[quixoticrobotic]

i have have lost most of my at4w screencaps but i cannot be stopped

[fauslayer]

him and his only friend, the dead child hes theoretically been waiting ~15 years to meet

[rageandreggretsuko]

He is here!

[silikat]

Atop the Fourth Wall and @animatedtext - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

[the-uncanny-dag]

Sometimes you read about the shit your distant & long ignored internet acquaintance has done, remember how your or your crew's interaction with them went when you were still talking & think "yeah, it was bound to happen eventually"

[nitpickrider]

@atopfourthwall I mean the joke makes itself.

[trumpkara]

Chapter One: Scaling the Fourth Wall

Linkara sat in his cluttered studio, surrounded by stacks of comic books, props from past reviews, and the ever-familiar scent of nostalgia and ink. He loved this space, his fortress of solitude, where he could critique, analyze, and condemn the world of comics. It was a sanctuary, a place where he could be himself without judgment. Home. Yet, today, as he stared at the latest batch of comics and scribbled notes for his next review, a strange thought began to gnaw at the back of his mind.

The screen in front of him displayed the latest news. Ever since the July 13th incident, it seemed like the world couldn't go a day without mentioning Donald Trump. Today was no different. with a freshly bandaged ear Trump was delivering another one of his bombastic speeches. Spittle shot out of his mouth as he critiqued, analyzed, and condemned the people of America. Linkara watched, initially with the same mix of disdain and disbelief he always had, locking in a new barb to tweet out to the world... but something felt different this time.

"He's so full of himself," Linkara muttered, fingering hovering over the "Tweet" button. In the back Trump was now bragging about his accomplishments and the recent mysterious disapperance of Joe Biden. "It's like he can't see how people really see him."

Linkara paused, his own words echoing in his mind. ""It's almost like..."

There was something eerily familiar about Trump's confidence, his unwavering belief in his own rightousness, even when everyone around him seemed to disagree. Linkara leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. Hadn't he always felt that way about his reviews? That his perspective was the right one, even when faced with a barrage of opposing opinions? Hadn't he always taken to opportunity to demean and mock comic artists and his own critics?

Suddenly a flash of light caught Linkara's eye. In Trumps pocket... no it couldn't be...

But it had to be, Linkara knew every inch of it from his old review. It was a rolled up copy of of "Infinite Crisis", Linkara's favourite comic. Noy only that, but yellow post-its burst from in between the pages. It was faint but hw could make out the writing on one.

This book, let me tell you about this book. This is the greatest comic I ever read! Its okay, its alright.

He glanced around his studio, taking in the countless posters and action figures that adorned the walls. He had always believed in the importance of his work, that his voice mattered in the vast sea of internet critics. But was that so different from Trump’s conviction that his voice was the one America needed to hear?

Linkara shook his head, trying to dispel the unsettling thought. He was nothing like Trump. Trump was a TV personality who jumped into the sea of politics. Linkara was... a online comic book reviewer. Who found himself wading into that same pool more and more. As he continued to watch, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there were parallels between their lives, their beliefs, and their relentless pursuit of their goals.

"Maybe it's just coincidence," he mumbled to himself, returning to his notes. But the seed of doubt had been planted. He tried to pay attention to the newest episode of Power Rangers: Firetruck Frenzy... but he couldn't silence that little, nagging voice. It began whispering in the back of his head. Over the next few days, it grew, feeding by the constant stream of news. By the end of the week it was practically engorged.

And as it grew louder, he started to notice other similarities. Trump had built his brand on controversy, never shying away from a fight. Linkara, too, had never been one to back down from a contentious review or a heated debate in the comments section. Trump’s rallies were filled with supporters who believed in his vision. Linkara’s fanbase, though much smaller, was fiercely loyal, rallying behind his critiques and celebrating his victories over bad comics, misguided storylines, and sexy characters. Trump would present himself as the most important man on earth, one who was moral and the center of attention for the universe. Linkara's eyes drifted to his green screen, where he would often depict himself as the leader of an immense spaceship with loyal followers who hung off his everyone word. Everyone who opposed him were evil invaders from outside his bubble, and he always had an insulting remark or two to cut them them in a debate.

The more he thought about it, the more he saw it. The more he saw, the more he knew. The more he knew, the more confident he became. Trump’s success, for better or worse, was a testament to his ability to connect with people, to make them believe in his version of reality. Wasn’t that what Linkara did with his reviews? He had always believed that comics could be better, that storytelling mattered, and he had built a following that shared that belief.

One night, as he was editing his latest video on The Official Tweenies Comic, the thought hit him with full force. Is this all there is? Ragging on Miller again? Taking about how Power Rangers slightly mixed things up again?

What if he could do more? Why couldn't he do more? What if he could take the passion, the drive, the conviction that had built his channel and use it for something bigger? Just like.... him.

Linkara leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the American flag pinned to the wall, a relic from one of his patriotic-themed reviews of an old Captain America book. Running for president? The idea was absurd. He was just a online personality, one often mocked online for how he spoke or looked.

But then, so was Trump. If he could do it, what was stopping him?

The seal had been broken. He had finally allowed himself to think the forbidden thought. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. But as he considered the state of the world, the divisions, the need for someone who truly believed in the power of stories to change lives, he felt a surge of determination. Maybe, just maybe, he could be that person.

Linkara smiled to himself, the decision solidifying in his mind. It was time to step out of his comfort zone, to take his passion for beung a big brave boy and use it to shape a new narrative for the country. He didn’t have all the answers yet, but he knew one thing for sure: he was going to run for president.

[cosmignon]

"Harvey, where do you think you are right now?"

ID: An illustration of Harvey Finevoice, a middle aged white man in a lounge singer suit, standing in the middle of an early winter graveyard. The sky is clear, many trees are bare, and there are patches of snow on the ground. Harvey's expression is distant and upset as he stares at a specific cross shaped grave that takes up a majority of the image. End ID.

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[salazarsrighthand]