Imagine yourself at nineteen years old. You walk down the block on a sunny Sunday afternoon to the green metal newspaper vending machine on the corner. You slide shiny silver coins into the slot on the top, pull down the oven-like door, and retrieve a newspaper from inside. With me so far?
Out Of Print
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Filed under Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals, Magazine Rack, Nostalgic Obsessions
All The World Will Be Your Enemy
Have you ever wished before, on a star, or a birthday candle, or a fallen eyelash? If so, what was the unspoken rule about making sure that wish came true?
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Filed under Animation Analysis, Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Idiot's Delight
Death of the Cool
True confession time; this may shock you, coming from someone who has collected toys and used computers since grade school, but I have never, ever been thought of as “cool”. When I was a young man, I might have fantasized about being a “cool guy”, but the reality never clicked. I’m more of an awkward misfit, or a borderline “nerd”. It doesn’t bother me. I accept who I am, and my place in society.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Faint Signals, Worst Of All
So What, Big Deal
The website you are currently reading is now ten years old. If it were a spouse, the traditional anniversary gift would be tin or aluminum. I’d go with the latter; it’s worth very little, and it’s everywhere. Just like cartoonists.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Don't Know Don't Care, Nostalgic Obsessions, Site Stuff, Worst Of All
The Dirt, Scarcity, and the Emptiness
Hi there, friends and neighbors! I suppose it’s been a while, hasn’t it? Feels like it’s been even longer. Life’s funny that way. Not “ha ha” funny, but the other kind, whatever that may be called. Funny when it happens to someone else. Yeah, that works.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Faint Signals, Idiot's Delight, Nostalgic Obsessions, Saturday Movie Matinee, Thousand Listen Club
I Feel Stupid And Contagious
It might be the weed, but this morning I was struck by the revelation that not only do I know every single word of a song I’ve utterly despised for over thirty years, but I think I don’t utterly despise it anymore.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Comix Classic & Current, Faint Signals, Nostalgic Obsessions, Thousand Listen Club
Time Out
After a surfeit of punishing insomnia that kept me awake until four in the morning last night, I had the most amazing dream. I sat at my drawing table and suddenly, without effort, I was inking a page of my own comic art, based on a brilliant new idea I’d conceived.
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Filed under Animation Analysis, Comix Classic & Current, Don't Know Don't Care, Site Stuff, Worst Of All
The Qotile Ultimatum
Part of being an inscrutable artist weirdo like myself is that you love it when people buy gifts for you, but you never buy gifts for anyone, because you feel an inner obligation to instead create something for them, which you then you take forever to do, and you just end up looking ungrateful.
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Filed under Faint Signals, Girls of BIUL, Nostalgic Obsessions, Thousand Listen Club
“The Suck-Will”
Cast back your mind over thirty years ago, before the onset of this godless, profane century, to the comparative innocence and joyful day-glo palate of the Year of Our Lord 1991. My college pals and I were attending the historic Tara theater in Savannah, along with a significant percentage of the coastal town’s population.
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Filed under Animation Analysis, Comix Classic & Current, Don't Know Don't Care, Idiot's Delight, Movies You Missed, Nostalgic Obsessions, Saturday Movie Matinee
Serf and Terf
I like to think I handle disrespect pretty well. I’ve been told I’m not funny before, I’ve been told that my cartoons are badly drawn, and it doesn’t bother me. I’m not in high school; I’ve been published and working for over thirty years, and I know full well what I’m capable of and what I’ve accomplished thus far.
If I’m disrespected as a man by another man, the solution is very simple.
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Filed under Bad Influences, Don't Know Don't Care, Girls of BIUL, Thousand Listen Club, Worst Of All
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