This is more of a mass update/blog post than the typical fare I offer here, so please bear with me. Mucht appreciated in advance.
A little over three weeks ago, my stress level became so astronomical, that while sleeping I crashed my jaw sideways hard enough to split my upper left bicuspid. This caused massive swelling in my gums, and had the side effect of making me pass out from extreme pain about once a day. All told I probably lost about a week, total. If you’re wondering how this affected my eating habits, try chewing literally anything without using your bicuspids or eyeteeth.
Today is the first day where I didn’t have to take several ibuprofen after awaking. Just to give you a general idea of the scenario with which I have been dealing.
Around the first of this month I was commissioned for a project making use of my abilities as a cartoonist with over thirty years of experience. This commission paid an advance of almost two grand, in the form of a check, which was deposited and being processed by my bank. Regardless of what you might think, it is not at all unusual for me to receive a payment that large, or larger. Because the check was in my bank, I began to have fantasies of being able to cover rent and expenses for the foreseeable future. I even entertained the notion that I could buy a new pair of sneakers, ones without holes in the soles. Hell, I could take a woman out on a date without going dutch or looking like the pauper that I am.
Oh yeah- and maybe I could see a dentist about my split bicuspid.
The check bounced.
So did my rent. My account was now overdrawn, during a period when I was able to maintain consciousness for about five hours a day. Because of the timing, I now had no way to buy food over the weekend. Food, by the way, that costs three times as much as it did in 2019.
This is the closest I have come to going out of business. Without extremely generous donations, I would have starved last weekend. Compare this with just two years ago, when I was able to buy a new computer and Wacom tablet. Plus the shoes I’ve been wearing since. Hence the holes.
I honestly don’t know how anyone can look at America, her people, or the living conditions that now prevail here and truly believe things are better, or that they ever will get better. I don’t think that anyone who voted for or supports the current administration is very smart. We are literally at a point in history where a president is calling anyone outside his party a terrorist. I don’t understand how anyone can abide such an abhorrent thing, and in fact I have violent animosity towards anyone who does.
In short, if you’re cool with the way things are in 2022 America, I hate your fucking guts. I would tell you to your face what a fucking dunce you are. You are responsible for everything bad in our country right now, including problems that lethally affect myself and my friends, and if I could get away with it, I would smash your jaw with a tire iron. I don’t know why I’m even bothering to write this; if you support the current administration, you can’t even read.
I have lost the ability to conceal my searing hatred for the American left-wing, Democrats, Marxists, or anyone who wastes my time defending their policies and ideals. I literally could not care less about how much you hate the right-wing, Republicans, Christians, or Donald Trump. None of them have caused me anywhere near the grief I’ve endured in just the last two years from the left. Not one of my close friends misunderstands my position on this matter. Want to know why?
Because my friends are all going broke paying for gas, food, or rent. My friends are, like me, stuck unable to find a better place to live, because everything has been bought up by corporations and their regime-shilling cronies. I’ve broken my rule here of never taking a side in politics; if you’re on the left of the political spectrum, I hate your fucking guts.
If you can’t see how the left has irreparably harmed this country, for good, again; you can’t even read these words. You’re shitting in a diaper right now wondering what the flashing things on the big rectangle are. You’re so irredeemably stupid that you think the nefarious influence of the Frankfurt School won’t result in America’s destruction. If you had two parents, they’re ashamed of you, because they probably paid your way through everything and you still turned out as a dumb shit.
Fuck you for stressing me out.
For real; fuck you. I hate your fucking guts.
How oblivious does one have to be to see that the goal of the left is to exterminate people like me, my friends, and my family? How many times do they have to disparage my way of life before you wise up? Everything I want out of life is “wrong” now. How can you be cool with that? You think your head’s not next on the chopping block? What the fuck do you do that makes you so sure these people won’t rid themselves of you at the earliest convenience?
I offer no apologies for any artwork I’ve done in my life. If someone’s offended by it, good. They’re pussies who deserve to be bullied so maybe they can stop being pussies. I care as much about what offends them as I care about what they fuck; not at all. I honestly pray they’re offended to death. They want me to die? That goes double for them. Triple, if we’re playing by Wiccan rules.
I have never talked down to anyone on the basis of their race or gender, and yet I have to take that shit for being a white male, even from friends. (I refrained from putting that last word in quotes, you’re welcome.) I don’t tolerate that bullshit from anyone. Why would I? It’s fucking racist, right racism experts? Isn’t that one of the magic words that’s actually meaningless, yet can still harpoon careers, and ruin lives? Even with no proof, or basis in reality?
There’s an old SubGenius maxim; Fuck ’em if they can’t take a joke. I’m done with people who can’t handle humor, or get offended. Fuck ’em. I say this as a man who, in grade school, had to develop a sense of humor (as well as drawing talent) to deal with being mocked for everything. My hair, my glasses, my clothes, my mom being wheelchair-bound; you fucking name it. If I didn’t have a sense of humor, I’d be a mass murderer.
Here’s the bottom line, folks. If people can’t afford gas, food, or rent, then they sure as fuck can’t afford to buy anything I’m selling. That means I don’t eat. I don’t live. So forgive me if I don’t care about anything else other than my own survival. Forgive me if I’m violently angry at the ones I deem responsible. Don’t blow smoke up my ass pretending that you’re any different. My business is me. If it goes, I go. It’s not that fucking hard to grasp.
Just like it’s not that hard to understand that the stress brought on by all of this, on top of the bullshit that evil people have forced upon the citizens of this country for the last decade, with no end in sight, would cause an ordinary man to break his own teeth in his sleep.
In the multiplied objects of the[Poe]
I had no thoughts
but for the teeth…
and of Berenice I more seriously
believed that all her teeth were thoughts…
the white and ghastly spectrum of the teeth…
the phantasma of the teeth
maintained its terrible