Matty Boy Anderson at a Trump rally in Atlanta, early 2016. “IDIFTL,” said Anderson, who has received over fifty emails a day from Donald Trump since then.
As a professional cartoonist with underground roots for over three decades, Matthew “Matty Boy” Anderson has been struggling to stay afloat in our current timeline. With censorship openly enforced by government and tech companies, multi-millionaire celebrities endorsing fascism towards their detractors, and “Redditors” eager to surrender freedom for unnecessary conveniences, how can any legitimate artist continue to make a living?
1990 trading card with original 1977 painting by Arnold Sawyer.
Our universe will never again see a personality like Stan Lee. For the most part, that’s not a good thing. But one must understand and accept that Stan’s career was very much of its time. What he became in his final years was a calculated maneuver, the bookend of a carefully managed and marketed existence. I say that not out of judgment, but out of respect, however begrudging that respect might occasionally be. More than perhaps anyone else, Stan Lee was comic books.
This is one of the earliest strips and frankly I was too hard on ol’ Cannibal Corpse. I wrote the first strips while living in rural South Carolina. I’m still friends with the dude in the first panel but at the time I didn’t know where any of the old gang were. I was crabby and malnourished in general because I didn’t figure out a proper diet until around four years ago.
“Little Girls” is the first track off of Only A Lad, the first LP from Los Angeles new-wave band Oingo Boingo. When I was only a lad, it was sort of a personal anthem. You probably know it, it starts with:
I – I – I love little girls, they make me feel so good I love Little girls, they make me feel so Bad
When they’re around they make me feel like I’m the only guy in town
Little girls, they make me feel so
Fairly innocuous, right? It’s cute, if you don’t read too much into it. Or, avoid watching the video.
As an “underground” artist, I go broke often. Sometimes I have to sacrifice comfort or nourishment to pay my rent.
Sometimes, I’m broke because I’m a total assclown who takes public transportation across town to see a $22 popcorn movie, alone. (I didn’t have enough for actual popcorn.)
Even while facing the consequences, I have no regrets.
I don’t know what the hell Al Gore had to do with the history of Transformers, and I don’t want to know. I had to sit through the trailer for his second bullshit global-warming scare film, and he can go fuck himself with an iceberg.
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