Pictured: The serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and the wisdom to know who should go fuck themselves.
In case you missed it, Bands I Useta Like (the comic strip, not the site you are currently reading) is over. I am forced to accept that a printed periodical outlet for the strip I have drawn for the past twenty-three years no longer exists. This is the theme of the 2020’s; forced acceptance and submission. Historically, I do well with neither.
So, in the spirit of the current times, I am accepting my own flaws and shortcomings as personal advantages, and forcing them on the rest of society and the world. As a pipe-tooting sailor once said, I am what I am.
A hundred years ago, if you didn’t have some source of heat in the winter, you died. That’s not allowed to happen now. If it does, the people responsible are generally punished. Despite what you might have been told, justice is served here about as well as it can be in a polity of over a quarter of a billion people.
Where do I even start with Ren & Stimpy? How do I handle the Faustian tale of its fallen creator, John Kricfalusi, without getting overly personal and acrimonious?
Sometimes in life, we fashion an artistic animus that over time, becomes a cage that confines us. Sometimes we try different things to keep the animus from becoming stale, and redundant. Sometimes we overhear a song that makes us want to kill, kill, kill, until we are hip-deep in blood and viscera.
Before we begin; I hope for both our sakes that you’re wearing your protective mask while reading this. I can’t actually see you, so I have to implement the “honor system” and presume you’re a “good neighbor” who won’t somehow infect me with mystery germs through the endless tubes of the internet. I know you’re better than that; I can tell by the fancy mask you’re no doubt sporting inside the house you’ve been confined to for the past four months. Even though, as stated, I can’t actually see you.
Mark my words. As soon as it becomes feasible, the father will be erased from the family unit forever. The word and the concept will be abolished and nullified. You can bet your life savings on it happening in the next five years.
These are strange, uncertain times in which we find ourselves. I imagine you must be worried sick by now; about getting the virus, about whether there really is a virus, and about whether you’ll ever be permitted to leave your house again without dressing like part of a hazmat crew. Well buddy, I don’t mean to trivialize anyone’s neuroses, but let me tell ya, I need to fuck.
