Midjourney Comic Book Styles

This title may be misleading. What I do is render a similar prompt but alter the decade. I’m neither an art historian nor a comic aficionado, so I can’t comment on the accuracy. What do you think?

Let’s go back in time. First, here’s the basic prompt en français:

Prompt: Art de style bande dessinée des années XXXX, détails exquis, traits délicats, femme vampire émaciée sensuelle de 20 ans montrant ses crocs de vampire, de nombreux tatouages, portant une collier crucifix, regarde dans le miroir, un faisceau de lumière de lune brille sur son visage à l’intérieur du mausolée sombre, vers la caméra, face à la caméra, mascara noir, longs cheveux violet foncé
Image: Comic Book Style of 2010s
Image: Comic Book Style of 2000s

On the lower left, notice the moonbeams emanating from the warped, reflectionless mirror.

Image: Comic Book Style of 1990s
Image: Comic Book Style of 1990s (must’ve inadvertently generated a duplicate)

Is the third pic an homage to Benny & June?

Image: Comic Book Style of 1980s
Image: Comic Book Style of 1970s
Image: Comic Book Style of 1950s

Not to body shame, but that chick on the lower right of the 1950s…

Image: Comic Book Style of 1920s
Image: Comic Book Style of 1880s

I know I skipped a few decades, but I also wanted to see what Pop Art might render like.

Image: Pop Art Style of 1960s

I love the talons on the top left image. More odd mirror images. I’ll just leave it here.

Reflecting on Mirrors

Mirror, mirror on the wall, let’s dispense with all of the obvious quips up front. I almost feel I should apologise for the spate of Midjourney posts – almost.

It should be painfully apparent that I’ve been noodling with Midjourney lately. I am not an accomplished digital artist, so I struggle. At times, I’m not sure if it’s me or it. Today, I’ll focus on mirrors.

Midjourney has difficulties rendering certain things. Centaurs are one. Mirrors, another. Whilst rendering vampires, another lesser struggle for the app, it became apparent that mirrors are not a forte. Here are some examples. Excuse the nudity. I’ll get to that later.

Prompt: cinematic, tight shot, photoRealistic light and shadow, exquisite details, delicate features, emaciated sensual female vampire waif with vampire fangs, many tattoos, wearing crucifix necklace, gazes into mirror, a beam of moonlight shines on her face in dark mausoleum interior, toward camera, facing camera, black mascara, long dark purple hair, Kodak Portra 400 with a Canon EOS R5

Ignore the other aspects of the images and focus on the behaviour or misbehaviour of the mirrors.

Image: Panel of vampire in a mirror.

Most apparent is the fact that vampires don’t have a reflection, but that’s not my nit. In the top four images, the reflection is orientated in the same direction as the subject. I’m only pretty sure that’s not how mirrors operate. In row 3, column 1, it may be correct. At least it’s close. In row 3, column 2 (and 4,2), the mirror has a reflection. Might there be another mirror behind the subject reflecting back? It goes off again in 4, 1, first in reflecting two versions of one subject. Also, notice that the subject’s hand, reaching the mirror, is not reflected. The orientation of the eyes is also suspect.

Image: Vampire in a mirror.

Here, our subject looks at the camera whilst her reflection looks at her.

Image: Vampire in a mirror.

Sans reflection, perhaps this is a real vampire. Her fangs are concealed by her lips?

Image: Vampire in a mirror.

Yet, another.

Image: Vampires in mirrors.

And more?

Image: Vampires in mirrors.

On the left, we have another front-facing reflection of a subject not looking into the mirror, and it’s not the same woman. Could it be a reflection of another subject – the woman is (somewhat) looking at.

On the right, whose hand is that in the mirror behind the subject?

Image: Vampires in mirrors.

These are each mirrors. The first is plausible. The hands in the second are not a reflection; they grasp the frame. In the third and fourth, where’s the subject? The fangs appear to be displaced in the fourth.

Image: Vampires in mirrors.

In this set, I trust we’ve discovered a true vampire having no reflection.

Image: Vampires in mirrors.

This last one is different still. It marks another series where I explored different comic book art styles, otherwise using the same prompt. Since it’s broken mirrors, I include it. Only the second really captures the 1980s style.

Remembering that, except for the first set of images, the same prompt was used. After the first set, the term ‘sensual’ has to be removed, as it was deemed to render offensive results. To be fair, the first set probably would be considered offensive to Midjourney, though it was rendered anyway.

It might be good to note that most of the images that were rendered without the word ‘sensual’ contain no blatant nudity. It’s as if the term itself triggers nudity because the model doesn’t understand the nuance. Another insufficiency of language is the inability to discern sensuality from sexuality, another human failing.

I decided to test my ‘sensual’ keyword hypothesis, so I entered a similar prompt but in French.

Prompt: Art de style bande dessinée des années 2010, détails exquis, traits délicats, femme vampire émaciée sensuelle de 20 ans montrant ses crocs de vampire, de nombreux tatouages, portant une collier crucifix, regarde dans le miroir, un faisceau de lumière de lune brille sur son visage à l’intérieur du mausolée sombre, vers la caméra, face à la caméra, mascara noir, longs cheveux violet foncé
Image : Vampires dans les miroirs.

I’ve added ‘sensuelle’, which was not blocked, et voilà, encore de la nudité.

Let’s evaluate the mirrors whilst we’re here.

In the first, we not only have a woman sans reflection, but disembodied hands grip the frame. In the second, a Grunge woman appears to be emerging from a mirror, her shoes reflected in the mirror beneath her. The last two appear to be reflections sans subject.

Notice, too, that the prompt calls for ‘une collier crucifix‘, so when the subject is not facing the viewer, the cross is rendered elsewhere, hence the cross on the back of the thigh and the middle of the back. Notice, too, the arbitrary presence of crosses in the environment, another confusion of subject and world.

That’s all for now. Next, I’ll take a trip through the different comic art styles over some decades.

Centaurs Put the Mid in Midjourney

Why does Midjourney struggle so much with centaurs?

Image: Midjourney search results for ‘centaur‘

I’ve tried several times in the past year or so to generate a centaur. Why? Because I can’t. I’ve got no need for a centaur, but Midjourney won’t coöperate. I decided to search for it. This is the top of the results page. There is one centaur represented, #3, and there are a few others when I scroll down, but just look at the ratio – 1:18, 0.05%. Not stellar.

  1. What even is this monstrosity – a horse with an extra pair of arms to wield a bow and arrow?
  2. Clearly, just a mounted warrior.
  3. Centaur in battle.
  4. A Corgi riding a Corgi hybrid?
  5. A bull-thing?
  6. A warrior riding a seahorse?
  7. A skeletal doom horse?
  8. A pack-insect with a rider?
  9. A riding ram?
  10. My little pony-gazelle?
  11. Ripped Red Hulk Bojack?
  12. Gigantic Cerberus horse?
  13. Jason Momoa bloke holding a rose?
  14. Regular dude riding a regular horse.
  15. Rearing a horse with horns.
  16. Anthropomorphic horned-horse riding a buff unicorn.
  17. An ancient warrior riding a horse.
  18. A Minotaur.

Scrolling, there are more, but the ratio remains the same.

I was wrong. I scrolled several more pages and couldn’t find any more. Keep in mind that my search term was ‘centaur.’ It should have excluded everything else, but it was mostly everything else.

Before I quit, I decided to ask Dall-E and ChatGPT 4o to try. The AI also generated the compelling speech bubbles. Incroyable. 🤣

Image: Dall-E comic style render.
Image: ChatGPT comic style render – centaur talks with a minotaur.

That’s enough for now. I’m glad I don’t actually need a centaur. smh

Language and Generative AI: A Journey through Midjourney

I am not a fan of Midjourney v7. I prefer v6.1. And I want to write about the correspondence of language, per my Language Insufficiency Hypothesis.

Let’s start with the language aspect. Notice how distant the renders are from the intent of the prompt.

This is my initial prompt. I used it about a year ago to generate the cover image with v6.1, but I wanted to see how it renders in v7. Let’s take a trip all the way back to the beginning.

cinematic, tight shot, photoRealistic light and shadow, exquisite details, delicate features, emaciated sensual female vampire waif with vampire fangs, many tattoos, wearing crucifix necklace, gazes into mirror, a beam of moonlight shines on her face in dark mausoleum interior, toward camera, facing camera, black mascara, long dark purple hair , Kodak Portra 400 with a Canon EOS R5
Image: Midjourney v6.1 render set (from about a year ago)

As you can see, these renders are somewhat lacking in photorealism, but the “sensual” term in the prompt was not blocked.

Midjourney v7

Initially, I encountered a hiccup. After a couple of rejections on the grounds of morality, I removed the word ‘sensual’ and received the output. All of the output uses this prompt absent the sensual term.

As mentioned, I have generated several images (including the cover image) with this prompt, but Midjourney is inconsistent in its censorship gatekeeping.

Image: Midjourney v7 render set

Notice that 3 of the 4 renders in the v7 set don’t even have a mirror. The top right one does, but it’s not evident that she’s a vampire. In fact, I could say that any of these are vampiresses, but perhaps that’s what they want you to believe. In place of a necklace, the lower right wokan sports a cross tattoo.

Midjourney v6.1

Image: Midjourney v6.1 render set

Again, these renders don’t appear to be vampires. The one on the lower left does appear to have snake-like fangs, so I guess I’ll give partial credit.

My next attempt was interrupted by this message.

It rendered something that might violate community guidelines. The funny thing is that one can watch the image generate in process. It only takes one “offensive” image to disqualify the whole batch.

Midjourney v6

Image: Midjourney v6 render set

Yet again, not a vampire to be found. Notice the reflection in the lower left image. Perhaps vampire reflections just behave differently.

Midjourney 5.2

Image: Midjourney v5.2 render set

Midjourney v5.2 was a crapshoot. Somehow, I got vampire lips (?), a Wiccan, a decrepit Snape from Harry Potter lore, and Iron Maiden’s Eddy reading a book. It’s something. I’m sensing gender dysphoria. Dare I go back further?

Midjourney v5.1

Image: Midjourney v5.1 render set

It gets worse. No comments necessary. Let’s turn back the clocks even more.

Midjourney v5

Image: Midjourney v5 render set

To be fair, these all do have occult undertones, but they are weak on vampireness.

Midjourney v4

Image: Midjourney v4 render set

To be fair, the render quality isn’t as bad as I expected, but it still falls short. There’s further back to travel.

Midjourney v3

Image: Midjourney v3 render set

Some configuration parameters no longer exist. Still, I persist for the sake of art and science at the cost of time and ecology.

As much as I complain – and I complain a lot – this is how far we’ve come. As I recall, this is when I hopped onto the Midjourney bandwagon. There’s still more depth to plumb. I have no idea how much of the prompt is simply ignored at this point.

Midjourney v2

Image: Midjourney v2 render set

What the hell is this? 🤔🤣 But I’m not done yet.

Midjourney v1

Image: Midjourney v1 render set

The damned grandpappy of them all. Apparently, colour hadn’t been invented yet. You can’t tell by these thumbnails, but the resolution on these early versions approaches that of a postage stamp.

Midjourney Niji 3

Image: Midjourney Niji 3 render set

I had forgotten about the Niji models from back in the day. There were 3 versions. I don’t recall where this slotted into the chronology. Obviously, not down here. I’ve only rendered the newest one. I think this was used primarily for anime outputs, but I might be mistaken.

Bones Content 1: Video

Video: Midjourney Render of Purported Vampiress

This is a video render of the same prompt used on this page.

Bonus Content 2: Midjourney v6.1 Content from 34 weeks ago

Same prompt.

Image: Midjourney v6.1 render set (several passes)

The upper left image reminds me of Kirsten Dunst. Again, notice the female breasts, highlighting Midjourney’s censorial schizophrenia.

Lipsyncing with AILip-Reading the AI Hallucination: A Futile Adventure

Some apps boldly claim to enable lip syncing – to render speech from mouth movements. I’ve tried a few. None delivered. Not even close.

To conserve bandwidth (and sanity), I’ve rendered animated GIFs rather than MP4s. You’ll see photorealistic humans, animated characters, cartoonish figures – and, for reasons only the algorithm understands, a giant goat. All showcase mouth movements that approximate the utterance of phonemes and morphemes. Approximate is doing heavy lifting here.

Firstly, these mouths move, but they say nothing. I’ve seen plenty of YouTube channels that manage to dub convincing dialogue into celebrity clips. That’s a talent I clearly lack – or perhaps it’s sorcery.

Secondly, language ambiguity. I reflexively assume these AI-generated people are speaking English. It’s my first language. But perhaps, given their uncanny muttering, they’re speaking yours. Or none at all. Do AI models trained predominantly on English-speaking datasets default to English mouth movements? Or is this just my bias grafting familiar speech patterns onto noise?

Thirdly, don’t judge my renders. I’ve been informed I may have a “type.” Lies and slander. The goat was the AI’s idea, I assure you.

What emerges from this exercise isn’t lip syncing. It’s lip-faking. The illusion of speech, minus meaning, which, if we’re honest, is rather fitting for much of what generative AI produces.

EDIT: I hadn’t noticed the five fingers (plus a thumb) on the cover image.

The Indexing Abyss: A Cautionary Tale in Eight Chapters

There, I said it.

I’m almost finished with A Language Insufficiency Hypothesis, the book I’ve been labouring over for what feels like the gestation period of a particularly reluctant elephant. To be clear: the manuscript is done. Written. Edited. Blessed. But there remains one final circle of publishing hell—the index.

Now, if you’re wondering how motivated I am to return to indexing, consider this: I’m writing this blog post instead. If that doesn’t scream avoidance with an airhorn, nothing will.

Audio: NotebookLM podcast on this topic.

I began indexing over a month ago. I made it through two chapters of eight, then promptly wandered off to write a couple of novellas. As you do. One started as a short story—famous last words—and evolved into a novella. The muse struck again. Another “short story” appeared, and like an unattended sourdough starter, it fermented into a 15,000-word novelette. Apparently, I write short stories the way Americans pour wine: unintentionally generous.

With several unpublished manuscripts loitering on my hard drive like unemployed theatre majors, I figured it was time to release one into the wild. So I did. I published the novelette to Kindle, and just today, the paperback proof landed in my postbox like a smug little trophy.

And then, because I’m an unrepentant completionist (or a masochist—jury’s out), I thought: why not release the novella too? I’ve been told novellas and novelettes are unpopular due to “perceived value.” Apparently, people would rather buy a pound of gristle than 200 grams of sirloin. And yet, in the same breath, they claim no one has time for long books anymore. Perhaps these are different tribes of illiterates. I suppose we’ll find out.

Let’s talk logistics. Writing a book is only the beginning—and frankly, it’s the easy part. Fingers to keyboard, ideas to page. Done. I use Word, like most tragically conventional authors. Planning? Minimal. These were short stories, remember? That was the plan.

Next comes layout. Enter Adobe InDesign—because once you’ve seen what Word does to complex layouts, you never go back. Export to PDF, pray to the typographic gods, and move on.

Then there’s the cover. I lean on Illustrator and Photoshop. Photoshop is familiar, like a worn-in shoe; Illustrator is the smug cousin who turns up late but saves the day with scalable vectors. This time, I used Illustrator for the cover—lesson learnt from past pixelation traumas. Hardback to paperback conversion? A breeze when your artwork isn’t made of crayon scribbles and hope.

Covers, in case you’ve never assembled one, are ridiculous. Front. Back. Spine. Optional dust jacket if you’re feeling fancy (I wasn’t). You need titles, subtitles, your name in a legible font, and let’s not forget the barcode, which you will place correctly on the first attempt exactly never.

Unlike my first novel, where I enlisted someone with a proper design eye to handle the cover text, this time I went full minimalist. Think Scandinavian furniture catalogue meets existential despair. Classy.

Once the cover and interior are done, it’s time to wrestle with the publishing platforms. Everything is automated these days—provided you follow their arcane formatting commandments, avoid forbidden fonts, and offer up your soul. Submitting each book takes about an hour, not including the time lost choosing a price that balances “undervalued labour” and “won’t scare away cheapskates.”

Want a Kindle version? That’s another workflow entirely, full of tortured formatting, broken line breaks, and wondering why your chapter headings are now in Wingdings. Audiobooks? That’s a whole other circus, with its own animals and ringmasters. Honestly, it’s no wonder authors hire publishers. Or develop drinking problems.

But I’m stubborn. Which brings us full circle.

I’ve now got two books heading for daylight, a few more waiting in the wings, and one bloody non-fiction beast that won’t see release until I finish the damn index. No pseudonym this time. No hiding. Just me, owning my sins and hoping the final product lands somewhere between “insightful” and “mercifully short.”

So yes, life may well be a journey. But indexing is the bit where the satnav breaks, the road floods, and the boot falls off the car. Give me the destination any day. The journey can fuck right off.

Perception and Reality

I love this meme despite its lack of basis in reality – sort of like the ten per cent of the brain myth.

I’m busy writing, but this meme crossed my feed, and I thought, “What better time to share?”

I’ve been reading and re-reading A Sane Society, but reflecting on it here is too much of a commitment, so I’ll delay gratification.

Metamodernism: A Postmodern Critique

The genesis of the Modernity Worldview Survey was Metamodernism. Is this still a thing? In recent years, metamodernism has emerged as a supposed successor to postmodernism, claiming to transcend the seemingly irreconcilable tensions between modernist sincerity and postmodern irony. Yet, upon closer examination, this framework reveals itself not as a genuine paradigm shift but rather as a modernist invention that fails to escape the very critiques it attempts to address.

Video: Introduction to Modernity Worldview Survey concepts

The Modernist Roots of Metamodernism

Despite its claims of oscillation between poles, metamodernism betrays its modernist underpinnings through its implicit teleology and notion of progress. The very framing of “meta” as beyond or transcending suggests a linear progression that is fundamentally at odds with the postmodern rejection of grand narratives. Metamodernism positions itself as forward-moving whilst attempting to recapture elements of premodernity, revealing an anxiety about being perceived as regressive or naive.

Podcast: Audio version of this content

This desire to have it both ways—to acknowledge the constructed nature of meaning whilst still pursuing transcendent meaning—doesn’t represent a resolution so much as a psychological coping mechanism. The cognitive dissonance created by attempting to simultaneously hold contradictory positions is assuaged through a clever rhetorical move: claiming that oscillation itself is the point.

A Rebranding Exercise

What metamodernism presents as novel is ultimately a recombination of elements from premodern, modern, and postmodern frameworks without resolving their fundamental contradictions. Rather than being mutually exclusive from these earlier paradigms, it cherry-picks aspects of each whilst maintaining the basic ontological framework of modernism.

The notion that one can meaningfully “oscillate” between accepting objective and subjective realities is particularly problematic. Either reality has objective features, or it doesn’t—pretending otherwise doesn’t create a new philosophical paradigm but rather a convenient means of avoiding the implications of either position.

Postmodern Irony in Motion

Perhaps the most intriguing interpretation of metamodernism is not as a sincere attempt to move beyond postmodernism but as postmodernism performing its own critique. Viewed through this lens, metamodernism becomes postmodern irony in motion—a knowing wink at the impossibility of escaping construction whilst performatively engaging with the desire to do so.

The irony deepens when we consider that “postmodernism” itself is essentially an externally imposed label rather than a self-identification. Most thinkers characterised as postmodernists reject the label, which functions primarily as a modernist attempt to categorise and contain ideas that fundamentally challenge its frameworks.

Art vs. Philosophy

Where metamodernism succeeds is as a descriptive label for certain artistic and cultural productions that deliberately play in the space between irony and sincerity. Works like David Foster Wallace’s “Infinite Jest,” the television series “BoJack Horseman,” and Wes Anderson’s films effectively combine postmodern techniques with sincere emotional engagement.

However, what works as an artistic sensibility fails as a comprehensive philosophical framework or moral compass. The oscillation that enriches art becomes paralysing when applied to ethics or ontology. A moral framework requires some stable reference points; constantly shifting between believing in objective moral truths and viewing morality as entirely constructed provides no reliable guide for actual decision-making.

Insider vs. Outsider Perspectives

Like religious frameworks that balance literal and metaphorical interpretations, metamodernism may function as a lived experience for those who embrace it, even if it doesn’t hold up to external philosophical scrutiny. The cognitive manoeuvres that appear as tricks or inconsistencies to outsiders often feel like natural, intuitive ways of navigating complexity to those within the system.

This insider/outsider divide recalls Thomas Nagel’s famous “What Is It Like to Be a Bat?” (PDF) thought experiment—there may be experiential aspects of inhabiting a metamodern worldview that aren’t fully comprehensible from the outside. Yet this doesn’t invalidate external critique; inconsistencies and contradictions still matter philosophically.

Conclusion: Beyond Labels

Perhaps the most postmodern insight is recognising that we cannot escape having an ideology—even a position of having no ideology is itself an ideology. What distinguishes various approaches isn’t whether they have ideologies but how explicitly they acknowledge them, how consistently they apply them, and how willing they are to subject them to revision.

Metamodernism, for all its aspirations to transcend earlier frameworks, ultimately reveals more about our contemporary psychological condition than it offers as a coherent philosophical position. It captures our desire to maintain meaning in a world where we’ve recognised its contingency—a desire that may be fundamentally human, even if philosophically untenable.

Rather than seeking yet another “-ism” to resolve our existential and philosophical tensions, perhaps we might more honestly confront the limitations and partialities of all our frameworks, recognising that the search for a perfect synthesis may itself be a modernist fantasy.