Conveniently cased in the same McSweeney's box with Autophobia is a slim volume called Lots of Things Like This, which serves as a catalog of the sort of graphic artist that Spiegelman is not. This book of plotless imperfectionists includes Raymond Pettibon, David Shrigley, William Steig, Maira Kalman, Jean-Michel Basquiat, and Kenneth Koch. Like Spiegelman, they all use words and pictures, but unlike him they have no story, no history weighing them down. Hey, they're just playing.

Their handwriting is often awful, and some even use an ungodly mix of cursive and Roman letters. Words for them are funny objects with nothing better to do than comment on a picture or deface it, as Dave Eggers, McSweeney's editor, notes. When these artists "screw up a word," which they do quite a lot, "instead of starting over, they just cross the word out and write it again." And when their lines decide to take them for a little walk, they don't fret about what kind of hideous dump they're going to end up in. If you look carefully, you can almost see Spiegelman muttering after them, "Ace Holes!"