Tag Archives: Poddism
“Battle not with monsters,
Lest ye become a monster.
And if ye gaze into the abyss,
The abyss gazes also into you.”
Hi there. My name is Matty Boy Anderson. I’m a cartoonist!
If you’re new to this site, thanks for coming, I’m glad you’re here. If you’re not, consider this a refresher course! This one’s for the noobs!
When you listen to a professional newscaster, you are hearing an “all-purpose” American accent, very similar to how black comedians make fun of white guys. It’s a mode of speaking designed to be understood by a wide variety of ages and backgrounds. It’s also totally alien sounding, especially when they lapse into a Spanish voice for words like “Nicaragua”.
In 1990, I relocated from New Jersey to Georgia. Originally, I had a curt New Jersey accent, like Jim Norton. My first year, I roomed with a guy from Rhode Island, and when I went back to Jersey for vacation, my friends couldn’t believe what a horror show my speaking voice had become. I was the caricature of the braying Yankee.
Today, a great hamster was laid to rest. His name was Boris.
We must not be sad, and instead celebrate the all-too-brief life of a beloved creature. Boris was curious, friendly, and adored by all who knew him; even the folks who disliked his kind. By some cosmic coincidence, the grey-and-white patches on his back formed a big “B”. Continue reading
The most efficient way you can make someone resent your culture is to force it on them.
The second best method is to insult people for not accepting your culture, as “bigots”.
People discover cultures they love. They don’t submit to them. They submit to things they hate, because they have no other choice.
And if something has to be forced on people, it’s wrong. Continue reading
I’m not going to bore you with more boasting about how I can draw better than any contemporary “web comic” artist out there. I’m going to bore you with an explanation why.
I’ve got The Jizz.
You could set out right now to be the greatest cartoonist in the world, spend billions of dollars, and you’d still never top me. You don’t have The Jizz. I do. Continue reading
Savannah, Georgia, late 1990.
A young man of eighteen staples fliers around his college campus, advertising his upcoming periodical. And his Cult.
It’s 2016, and I can tell you’re not ready. The last twelve months really added wear and tear. You’ll have to do more than make resolutions you won’t keep, if you’re gonna roll through another year. I’m here to help, though. I’ve taken a good look under your hood, and I think I see the issue. It’s not a problem yet per se, but it could seriously affect your performance in the coming days.
Let me break it down for you.
Almost every single aspect of my personality can be explained by one simple fact: when I was a kid I ate a bouillon cube.
I was too young to know better. I had witnessed the flavor sorcery that resulted when my parents would cook with a bouillon cube. Surely, I reasoned, if it made dinner taste that good, then a whole cube of it would be a trip to flavor heaven. I even imagined it might expand into a steak or a burger, like in The Jetsons. So one evening I sneaked into the kitchen, unwrapped a beef cube, popped it in my mouth, and chewed it up. Continue reading