Is there a business that is not at times hell for its workers? Tom Sito's Drawing The Line exposes past animators who were exploited and watched their creations earn millions for the studios while their own wallets remained thin.

When the theatrical animation industry shut down at the end of the 1950s, the industry's best talents went into television programming or advertising, and their creations were always animated. If this was (is) such a god-awful business, why did they bother? And what indeed kept them there, or drew new talent into the business? Were the network execs who greenlit Laverne and Shirley in the Army or Lassie's Rescue Rangers in the belief that they were entertainment any more astute or prescient than the ones who greenlit Class of 3000 in the belief that the front man for Outkast must have skills equal to, say, John Dilworth's? Somehow, I doubt it. Yet, even as the jobs flowed overseas and runaway animation became the norm, the veterans stayed on and students swelled the halls of animation schools worldwide.

For some reason, not entirely economic, animation endured. Thrived. Some of the greatest animation ever produced, honored by both the Anibator and Kricfalusi, came to life even as union and studio crossed swords and picket signs were being painted (or newly laid aside). To be sure, there were disillusioned souls who later went into commercial art, graphic design, independent work or, in some cases, laid their pencils down for good, but, for the most part, people stayed with the medium.

It is certainly a fact that these jobs paid the bills and fed the kids, but it is hard not to believe that those who worked in animation genuinely loved what they did and enjoyed the creative challenges of the medium. Not to mention, the wonder of making one's living through artistic expression. This, indeed, is where the Anibator's bile breaks against the twin rocks of creativity and passion.

I concede that animation can be a difficult way to make a living, and that there are privations and frustrations to be borne for creative individuals in the industry. The Anibator does offer some wise counsel for those that choose that path. Those that truly want an animation career, however, will continue to brave the minefields of execs who are untrained in the medium, make heartfelt pitches that fail and experience the agony of seeing unoriginal and derivative shows promoted over better material. Animation has its discontents, but the truth is, the medium as both art and entertainment will go on, and will continue to leave its lasting mark on our culture.

Fred Seibert can be credited with improving the animated series with his concept of making a series of one-shot, creator-driven cartoons.

If I had my choice (and I certainly don't), I would rather work in animation today than 25 years ago. Mainstream animation was moribund, animated features were few, CGI did not exist, runaway animation was rampant and the future of the industry seemed to be a cesspool of half-hour long animated toy commercials. The influence of anime was negligible, there was little diversity in the creative pool and the concept of creator-driven cartoons belonged solely to the realm of independent animators. I personally do not know how long the Anibator has been around. Perhaps s(he) carries permanent scars from those days. I would rather look at how things may be changing.

In the early 1990s, Nickelodeon decided to develop original, creator-driven animated series, and, in so doing, improved the medium greatly. Some execs did not grasp this concept or adapt to it. Fred Seibert, who wanted to make an entire series consisting of one-shot, creator-driven cartoons in the hopes of finding a hit, did. Seibert originally failed to sell Nickelodeon on the idea, but when he went to Turner's Cartoon Network (and Hanna-Barbera), he was able to institute the idea. The resulting series, What a Cartoon! (1996), established several popular, high-quality series and brought a new generation of animation talent to the fore.

Seibert eventually did replicate his success at Nickelodeon with Oh Yeah! Cartoons (1998), and, most recently, with the soon-to-be-aired series Random! Cartoons. All of the shorts are creator-driven, produced with more guidance than interference from execs, and the talent pool contains more women and a wider range of ethnicities than previously seen in any one series. It is expected, and probably inevitable, that some of the shorts will go to series and become wildly popular. It is also to be expected that some of the personnel involved in the three series mentioned above will eventually become animation execs -- the very ones that are more likely to bring about a future revolution.

Martin Goodman.

Is animation doomed, as the Anibator insists it is? My answer is yes -- but with a qualification. This era of animation is doomed -- doomed to change. Just as the era of India ink-and rubber-hose limbs was doomed. Or the era of the theatrical cartoon. Or the era of in-house animation studios. Or the era where Disney was the only viable producer of animated feature-length films. Or the era in which computer-generated animation produced nothing more sophisticated than the vehicle in Tron. Or the era prior to the influence of anime on American and European animation. Or the era before creator-driven cartoons (of whatever quality) began to dominate the mainstream.

The decade 1997-2007 is a snapshot in the history and evolution of animation, not a death march to its conclusion. As in every era, there is that which is putrid and that which is great, and what is needed is a historical perspective that includes an appreciation of cyclical change. Without that, it might be easy to fall into the trap of seeing conditions as they are today as an inevitable pattern of dissolution and entropy. Be of good cheer, Anibator. Your writing reveals you to be bitter, but also intelligent and passionate, or you would not have bothered in the first place, and I salute you for that.

However, animation is never doomed until human creativity is doomed. Even the entertainment marketplace and the suits who desperately try to corner it cannot defy that fact.

Martin "Dr. Toon" Goodman is a longtime student and fan of animation. He lives in Anderson, Indiana.