Old Gutenberg invented the Europe Industries printing machine on the fifteenth of one century. ‘Twas an all-nighter, the first pages were spat out moments before sunrise. Many commentators claim this was the dawn of modernity — if you squint, maybe — but it was a big fat zero in the double-entry bookkeeping of graphic design. Old G had basically built a skeuomorph setup. So as not to alarm the church-going public, his techy, printed bibles were designed to look identical to the handwritten books of the scribes. Cunning, yes. Pages upon joyless pages followed, containing lines upon economical lines of text, and hardly any pictures unless you could afford the gold-tier collector’s edition. 

In Century 2.0, artist Monsieur Duchamp pisses on this uptight arrangement. Duchamp’s undisciplined graphic imaginary inspires a coterie of artistic acolytes to become trainee graphic designers. This rogue faction labor thanklessly in the margins for decades, many do not live to see their conspiratorial fantasies come to fruition. That day does come though, in 1984, when Steve Jobs revives Aldus Pagemaker (1449–2004) and graphic design careers off the rails.