Whose Year Is It Anyway?

“Bury the fuckin’ thing!”

-John Saxon as Lt. Don Thompson, A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors

I want to thank everyone who stuck with me through one of the most god-awful years of our lives. With love, this is for you.

I probably don’t thank the people who help me enough. Respectfully, if you’ve supported me in the past, you’re on a treasured list that exists only in my head. I am legitimately fearful that if I publicly associate your name with mine, I will get you in trouble. This is based on nothing. But the fact remains, I write about some extremely controversial topics on this site, and the people whom I have offended previously can be very mean. So know that if you have reached out to me in support, even if it was just a message, you are in my heart.

I’m in a weird place; 2019 was a weird year. I have a clear plan of what I want to accomplish creatively in 2020, I just need to sufficiently finance it. Thanks to my supporters and Patrons, that’s on the way to happening. It’s on the way to FLAPPENING!

Dude- remember January? Remember all the people and networks we useta trust, before they went all Manchurian Candidate with the “red hat” thing? I have a hard time liking John “Bender” DiMaggio now, because I get freaked out when rich people rant about punching children. Thanks again, Twitter!

February wasn’t any better; in fact, for me this was the absolute death knell for cable news. I have to thank Jussie Smollett, because as sleazy as he is, he drove the final stake into the heart of the public’s trust for mainstream media. Now you can officially call anyone who believes CNN stupid, because CNN spent the whole year proving it. The precedent has been set for an entirely new breed of career parasite.

With March came the crushing realization that we could no longer trust Big Tech, either. The days in which I related to Silicon Valley “bros” are dead; Atari dead. Because we base our lives around computers, the ways in which we can be manipulated have multiplied. I don’t even know how to make a joke out of it, it’s just sad. By the way, this was the month where Felicity Huffman got busted for buying her daughter’s way into an Ivy League college, as did Lori “Full House” Loughlin.

Also known as “when things really went bugfuck”.

I didn’t notice as much, because in April, my hamster Angus shuffled off his fuzzy coil.


April 1st was the 10th anniversary of the screening of John’s Arm: Armageddon at the Plaza Theater. Frankly, the last decade was kind of on the shitty side. There were great times, but holy god, am I having to abuse stimulants to forget the times that were not. Which were consistently multitudinous.

May flowers arrived with a punishing heat that lasted until September and drove most of us out of our minds. Remember that? A lot of us learned about “doing without“, when it came to televised media. Finally I “jumped the gun” and admitted that I was in Bad Shape©. I tried to deliver a new comic magazine in 2019 and failed, due to lack of funds. Donations went to food and rent, because I hit a slump career-wise, which of course I am to blame for.

See that hand sign I’m making? It means “ok”, dumbass, it literally reads as “ok”. Also, where the hell did I get calf muscles like that?

It’s really, really not easy to do what I do. It wouldn’t be satisfying or honest if it were. But I’m still human, although I’m trying to compete with the Internet as a content creator. I am technically a suicidal depression sufferer, and occasionally it gets the best of me. 2019 was one of those times.

Not to get all whiffy, but part of why I keep going is because I know there are people out there who feel the same, or worse.

Let me ask you this. What if you based your life around being a part of something, and upon reaching middle-age, you find that thing no longer exists? What then, worry? Be mad all the time?

I announced the launch of my new humor magazine two months before the official folding of the most famous humor magazine of all. Ker-plonk, ka-floot.

I’ve spoken to three different therapists in the past six months and they all said the same thing- “No wonder you feel like killing yourself.” I am a seasoned comic artist battling obsolescence to the death, and you have a ringside seat for the fight. Be grateful. All of this, to an outsider, is exciting and fulfilling on many levels. I am a bard at heart. I have many tales to tell. Trust me, I won’t go gently.

August was so broiling and unrelentingly hot, I resorted to screaming at folks to “get off my internet“. That’s how I know 5G is frying our brains- how would anyone read my stuff if they got off the Internet?!?

In September, I started bracing for the final deuce-drop of Disney’s “Star Wars“. I attempted to stay distracted by focusing on fragrances, and new office equipment, but as we both know, the corruption spread so deeply that it became impossible to ignore. Let me repeat:

No one who works for Disney, Marvel, or any network connected to either can be trusted. The sooner you remove all that stuff from your life, the happier you will be. I can’t put it any more clearly than that. If you’re constantly freaking out about the news, it’s because you’re being emotionally manipulated by a network connected to Disney. Look into it, you’ll see. They’re trying to control you by selling you a lifestyle. All that matters is your dependence on them.

I say this as I bug you yet again for patronage or monetary support.

The crucial difference is, I’m a living artistic animus that consistently creates material of exceptional quality. Disney is the very definition of a “soulless corporation”. Plus- when was the last time Disney taught you anything?

In 2020, I’ll be teaching patrons 10 Steps To A Finished Page, my own method for creating comics. I will presumably die at some point, so I’d like to pass on my techniques, but I know how much they’re worth and I’m not gonna just give them away whilst I gaze at empty cupboards.

Still, that’s better than staring at the ol’ boob tube, amirite? Is “amirite” still a thing? Is “is that still a thing” still a thing?

Okay, just in case you’re new here, and you still read up to this point anyway, I have complex PTSD stemming from incidents in 2011 and 2015. I grind my teeth uncontrollably and I used to scream when the phone rang. I’ve pushed through more trauma in my work over the past ten years than I have in my entire artistic life. Stick around, you’re gonna see some serious shit.

To everyone else, I am ever grateful for the chance to be your cartoonist. It’s been one hell of a ride so far, and there’s nowhere to go from here but up.

See you in 2020, and Happy New Year! Bury the fuckin’ thing!

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