Hey just a crazy little PSA that I thought about writing a couple of months ago, decided against it, and am finally forced to write now (due to feeling self-conscious). My, let’s just say, sports injuries have been preventing me from drawing pain-free for nearly a year now so if you notice a lower rate of output or lower quality of art on this blog that will be the cause of it. I made another post similar to this one earlier but I want to reiterate it more clearly.

I am the first to be, uh, disappointed with my inability to draw the way I used to at the start of 2021 (to speak in very diplomatic terms) and that right at a moment in my life when I both need to and feel capable of getting better at it. Well, out with ‘capability’ I guess. I’ve pretty much had it. I’ve already been taking it very easy for one (1) whole month and I plan to continue doing so until I can draw again without making my situation worse.

This is all to say I still plan on posting but it will be more of, just, irreverent jokes and anti-comedy rather than, well, the same but with artistic effort attached to it. I’ve been a successful e-clown on parts of the internet other than my personal blog for a long time now, so I’m not looking to impress you with originality here. Been there, done that. The thing is, mental health breaks don’t work for me. I would much rather Post, even if it’s something that’s lower effort, than not Post and go insane. I hope you’re fine with the slight alteration of the type of content. It’s still an art blog, it’s just gonna be a little more of my Webbed Site, too. It won’t be a permanent thing. The one thing that will remain the same is me. More or less anyway, as all things go.

ok bye

Self-portrait of the Artist Being Sick a.k.a. The Hottest Ugly Person You’ll Ever See a.k.a. My Trent Reznor Transformation is Almost Complete

i love you

I sat down on a bench and had some fast food today. I cracked open a can of carbonated soft drink (they don’t pay me so I won’t advertise their brand) and decided to put it on the ground rather than on the bench, next to me, because I was afraid I’d knock it over with the corner of my jacket or something. The trees are blooming so, you know, there’s petals and fluff, and leaves, and all sorts of shit coming down from above. I thought, oh no, I should pick the can off the ground and put it back next to me.

You see, benches are for people to sit on. The ground is for nature to do her business, it’s where tree detritus falls. I had a preconceived categorical division of the human and non-human realm and this imbued the bench with a magical aura of protection. If I put the can back on the bench, then said can was, by virtue of this rational categorization, protected from any petals that might fall into its mouth. I thought this intuitively and easily. It was, for that moment, the truth for me.

This is what “education” does to your brain.

Every month from now on, my new best friend BLÅVINGAD will have something new in its mouth.

May, 2023: A mint condition CD of Panic! At The Disco’s Pretty Odd.

I find “passive income” types fascinating. To “retire at 30” is basically the dream of the manchild, right, it’s the flipside of the NEET coin. It is to dream to be a dependent infant again, being taken care of, now not by your parents but by the wet nurse that is the superstructure of capitalist faux-slavery — a convenient mechanism which has, let’s be honest, been built for this express purpose: to enable men to regress into childhood tyranny.

I don’t care for the jerkoff Marxist analysis here, it’s trite. To explain to somebody living under capitalism what capitalism is is to opine to a man whose leg has just been severed that you believe him to be bleeding. I’m much more interested in the psychology of the process, what scares people into wanting to retire at 30. Fear, indeed, must be at the root of it, but it is the same base fear that is instilled in all of us — that if we do not earn a wage we will starve and perish. No, admixed with this, I think, is a kind of precocious understanding of the inhumanity of the whole system. Many think the desire to be a member of the ‘haves’ rather than the 'have-nots’ has to do with lusting over social status and power. I concur but… rarely have I met with somebody who’s pointed out that another factor may very well be at play: the intense desire to repudiate the whole framework of capitalism and the way in which it structures our lives.

This repudiation, of course, can only manifest in playing a very active role in the system one is supposedly disgusted by. The wish of the upper classes to put the servant quarters out of sight and out of mind is also not a new observation. Yet it is always played, in the literature, the capitalist oppressors, that is, they are characterized as some pre-eminently conscious creatures, they are drawn in our minds in the way we fancy a cat must feel, when it is gingerly burying its shameful business. “They know what they have perpetrated” we think of the capitalists and the aristocrats, “and they only wish to forget the cruelty they have done their fellow man, so that they may go on living with a clear conscience.”

But in 2023 things are different. Man, at large, is far too dumb, far too dumbfuck stupid, to think in this way. The democratization of abuse through capitalist channels has truly done wonders to the modern psyche. Man now, I think, the “passive income” cumwad that constitutes, under biological description, an adult human being, is not aware of being an oppressor. The semantics involved in “passive income” talk, the terms, the whole milieu, is striking in the way it removes causes from effects. That is, the money isn’t even made, it is simply willed into existence. You certainly do not work for it. You do not even enslave anyone in order to accrue capital. A system of (free market) ley lines can be tapped into and by this apparently natural, apparently antediluvian force, one may come to wealth and so disengage from the whole unseemly business of wage labor — not being a wage slave, not even being a wage slaver.

This innocence, this disavowal of culpability, is a mark of the child’s mind. When you are five, you may be well aware that you broke the pot, but under the scornful eye of a guardian figure you come to truly believe that it broke of itself. A worldview in which events come from without is a normal state of brain development but must be seen as pathologic, when it manifests in the adult. In these people, too, under the scornful, disdainful eye of the global capitalist empire, there is a desire to prolong, indefinitely, a state of false consciousness, to never break the spell of a simple world, rather than to simplify an already complicated one, as was once the desire of those already born into wealth, those conscious of wealth’s cost. This latter act, to the 'passive income’ types, I have it in my mind, is too gross a prospect to attempt: so monstrous must the trappings of capitalism seem to them that they are simply repulsed by it altogether. And, be honest, do they not seem monstrous to you as well? And really, can you blame these people?

i can lol :)

Title: untitled.bmp

Medium: computer mouse on workstation PC

Artist’s Acknowledgements: My gratitude goes to my coworkers for their unending support and their helping hands during this arduous 10 minute endeavour. don’t tell my boss.

if you do this tat you owe me one hundred million dollars for the idea

silly_crazy_babies_righthand_sketch.jpg

random thought to toss away and ignore but i like that every time i go into the reblogs of any bonequest strip there’s always gonna be either people that follow me on here or people that i follow on twitter (don’t tell them, my handle on there is different). it’s great, it’s just like, my orbit of fellow-minded individuals consists of a dozen people on E, presumably completely unfit for polite society, and at least one of them has rabies, i dunno. it may be me. i love it.

Friendship ended with BLÅHAJ

Now BLÅVINGAD are my best friends