page 3-32 of the the questionable comic strip
did you notice at one point that the lighting flips all the way around? i started drawing it correctly, then thought it was wrong and flipped it around. But once I thought “this lighting looks really nice” i knew that meant i had screwed up. And so for once decided to leave it that way, because you probably DIDN’T notice the lighting flipped around. and if you did, you can potentially imagine that elpse just ran around the block, even though the front of the apartment building is still visible. I only recognize it as the front because I hate drawing it so much and always need to use a reference from its regrettable non-designed initial appearance. Lighting can change but ugly architecture cannot.
Dear dear dear, NEMITZ is SENSITIVE now. Oh PARDON ME, nemitz. Have i OFFENDED your DELICATE sensibilities??! Have I BESMIRCHED your refined tastes? Get back to work, you anthropomorphic koosh ball.
I am sick of having to do damage control after nemitz’ pity parades. It’s visible to everyone? Too bad, they probably got sick of nemitz’s diva episodes. What’s the matter, nemitz, did pog’s dressing room door have a sparklier star than yours? I heard that on opening night nemitz REFUSED to perform until one of the orchestra members took off a bright green scarf because nemitz thought it was too “distracting.” I heard that during the tuesday night table readings the scripts are always good but then mysteriously when it comes time to shoot the episode on thursday all the best lines have MYSTERIOUSLY gone to nemitz. I can’t stand it. All the contractually secured “creative” control you bullied the network into granting you won’t control public opinion. Get over yourself, dumb mitz. I don’t even want to talk about this anymore.
page 31 of part 3 of the comic strip.
I planned this with a blow gun without really thinking about it. When I came back to it two weeks ago that seemed bland. I couldn’t think of anything to change it to except a sling shot, but then remembered i already used a slingshot on a page that i suppose realistically was not all that long ago. I also considered but did not draw a tiny bow-and-arrow but justified reverting to the blow gun on the grounds that kumquat looks funny opening its mouth like that. But then I had to tilt its angle more toward the viewer to seem less like it was deliberately aiming away from elpse, and consequently made it look less funny!
I also had to mirror the layouts over flow of information concerns and hopefully this will not screw up the page after this which I already laid out with the expectation that kumquat was attacking from the right instead of left!
If anyone is still out there after that last thing I put up, which I stand behind, 93%, here is page 30 of part 3 of the comic strip.
My only consolation: finding out that I’m my one true obligation.
Who needs a dream? Who needs ambition? Who’d be the fool in my position? Not very many, the way things are going, there’ll soon be one less. No one in your life is with you constantly. No one is completely on your side. And though I moved my world to be with them, still the gap between us was too wide. And I won’t miss them, they made it perfectly clear: I was a fool and probably queer. Not a help, you’ll admit, to agreement between us. I’ve taken mitz for seven years and I won’t take it anymore. Each day got through means one or two less mistakes remain to be made.
Let man’s petty fandoms tear themselves apart. It brings me no joy adding to their satisfaction. Bit by bit the pieces fit the bimshwellian machine advances, not one move that won’t improve our nation’s chances. This is the one situation I wanted most to avoid. What on earth am I doing, I could be better employed! I don’t care if you’re a champion, no one messes with me. I am ruthless in upholding what I know is right, black or white, as you’ll see. I’m on the case, can’t be fooled. Any objection is overruled. One night in bimshwel and the tough guys tumble. If you don’t like it then it’s up to you. You’ve a better reason to be anti-nem than me. How can you let mediocrity win? Who do these foreign chappies think they are? I can’t believe that they don’t see my game; I’m like that tennis player — what’s his name? Maybe it’s a bit confusing, for a game, but rubik’s cubes were much the same. And the appeal, partner, of this deal, partner, Is we both stand to win; We’ll bring back the golden era.
No no, you’re reacting exactly the way that they waaaaant! And ehhhhvery poison word shows that you never understood. You take care you don’t let their shenanigans blind you. It’s all very well to say “you fool!” It’s now or never. I could be choosing no choices whatsoever. Sad to see the ancient and distinguished game that used to be very like another when your head’s down over your pieces, brother.
This sign advertising the republican primary is actually still up, but even the actual election sign only offers “cut taxes” as any indication of what this person will do and I suspect the sign’s keeper didn’t notice the difference. Although “cut taxes” is loads more information than these signs typically give.
Stefanowski is running against Ned flippin-dippin Lamont, who I complained about in 2006 as also having nothing new to say or contribute. As with the 2014 election, I do not think it matters which one of them gets in. Ned of course won the democrat gubernatorial primary on the strength of not winning the previous Connecticut election he was in for a lower office.
My brother Een produced a song parody that I don’t totally understand. It depicts Ned Lamont in a ludicrous fashion, but treats Stefanowski in a sincere and serious fashion even though he is just as much a red/blue stereotype as his opponent. And then does it to the tune of a song by someone whose prime fans are cartoonishly devoted to the opposition party. But Ian came and jump started “my” car when I was stuck in the miserable Walmart parking lot yesterday because I hate driving a car and every aspect of it exists to spite me, so I know Ian is a decent person. Would Bob Stefanowski help me get away from Walmart?
As usual, the only candidate who actually proposes anything is the one who isn’t supposed to be allowed to win, Oz Griebel, and wasn’t supposed to even be allowed to debate but slipped into one on a technicality when people running the venue were under the impression he was a great and powerful wizard.
Which is not to say I believe in Griebel, but of the three he offers something that can potentially be believed in. I don’t believe in anyone anymore who I cannot directly interact with.
I had wanted Trump to win the nomination in 2016 and gut the party because I underestimated republicans’ ability to be party members first and humans second. I also underestimated the democrats’ ability to pander and regress themselves to try and compete with that. People that get retweeted at me simultaneously say “you’re part of the problem” if you don’t vote for what you believe in and also that you’re “throwing your vote away” if you don’t vote for the sad compromise that they order you to take. I might as WELL vote for a wizard. Half these people are corrupt imbeciles, and the rest are running for office.
Ned Lamont has an unusual bonus this time in that some group has paid for and distributed sarcastic campaign signs announcing that he is “for taxes and tolls” even though only Griebel is openly in favor of tolls. They are obviously fake signs because the real Ned signs don’t say he is for anything. We only know that he is the white guy with a three letter name who is NOT going to cut taxes, and with the people I know, that might just be enough. Even though they don’t actually pay all the taxes because they get their wages in cash off the record.
I do not have a picture of these signs because I only see them when driving.
I hate driving. But I also hate having so many pictures that I cannot finish what I am writing because I want to insert them all. But I hate even more describing something that would work better if I had a picture of it. You know what I like? Lo mein. I believe in noodles.
I actually don’t mind paying for road improvements because I hate driving and would like to feel slightly less like I am going to suffer imminently every time I do it. My issue with tolls is that paying them is terrifying because it requires getting in a specific lane and having a specific amount of money and probably having somebody behind you angry at you for something beyond anybody’s control. Or you have to pay a fee to get a special automatic toll-paying brick from the government, even though the point is to help THEM get money from you more easily. I would rather mail Ned a dollar every week, and I hate mailing almost as much as I hate driving. I will vote for the candidate that will institute a statewide pneumatic tube system so I do not have to drive again.
Although the previous winner, Dan Malloy, declined to seek re-election because he was so tired of people complaining about the non-job he was doing, that gives me no hope that the next job-haver will do a better non-job.
(Ian ALSO has a song about Dan Malloy, and I like this one better because Ian sings it himself and it isn’t to the tune of something I can tell he doesn’t care about, but you wouldn’t know it without excavating it from facebook because the unaltered music from the original song that Ian sang over got it blocked on Youtube which I discovered just now. And then the video shills for some local radio dorks whom I doubt have his best interests in mind)
Grimbedly poketer, nobody complains more than people who win and get what they what.
Something that is “really popular” obviously is liked by more people than hate it. These scumbags get to smear their essence on everything while pretending to be victims.
This guy is set for life and was putting out the narrative “anyone who doesn’t like this thing that I made is a hater” in ADVANCE of it being available, –literally assuming it WOULD get popular because it was already crowdfunded for more money then I will smell in six lifetimes– and people that I KNOW are repeating this years later like that is to his credit, IN ADVANCE of whatever other thing he made more recently, even though the first thing ended up just about the most loved and inescapable heap of happy hype plopaganda relative to the amount of effort involved that may have ever existed and everyone involved has a mutually beneficial situation.
You know what happens if someone who actually is hated complains about being hated? Nothing, because people actually hate that person!
This forklogan who is only ACKNOWLEDGING THAT THIS HAPPENED is exponentially more loved than I have ever experienced! And doesn’t even watch the page, judging from its own screenshot, only leeches off it.
I don’t have a choice to not know or to form an independent opinion on the pertinent matter, which i have personally dumbed “Dintydoone” so I can pretend it is a combination of my favorite inexplicably named supermarket products that also thrive without me ever buying them. I only know it is there because I try to force myself to deal with things that I would rather not be aware of, to give an amount of consideration to the people who come to me, because I worry that avoiding what my instincts tell me are bad news makes me look like an unkind person, and my inability to function when put in that position has made me LESS kind. I don’t have a choice to simply not be interested, even though if I mention what I like I get gloated at like “ho ho I’ve never even SEEN that” like it’s an accomplishment that they haven’t, if I get acknowledged at all, which I probably won’t be. Maybe, MAYBE we are BOTH have a right to like different things. I don’t understand how this is a foreign concept. Of course our political system is preposterous: THESE are the people the candidates have to reach.
And I can’t just not use twitter because the websites that make sense were thoroughly devalued when every person who already gets what they want vacated those sites in favor of ones like this where nobody EXCEPT them can do so.
Do i overreact? Yes absolutely! This is a consequence of a life spent as a square peg trying to get through a round hole when I am actually a tea kettle, and now the culture is dictated entirely by square pegs which includes the hole which is also now square. My only hope is to avoid it entirely. I don’t mind people having their fun and their own personal false gods. They can be furries and bronies and John Balbonies but it is imperative that they be people foremost, and accept that no frivolous expenditure of time can have unanimous approval. Whatever the case I won’t beat myself up anymore for not liking enough stuff that I have no foundation on which to like, and hopefully I won’t make [as many] spiteful drawings on the topic, either.
At least the Hamilton guy, who came into and ruined a piece of my life equal in size around the same time has humility about his fame and considers that it is something of a fluke, even if his creative work comes from the perspective of the abrasively unhumble. He knows, on some level, that is garbage and only for show. I don’t know if he tries to communicate that to his fans, but he definitely wasn’t on 60 minutes 4 times warning people that there is something wrong with them if they don’t like his annoying songs. I bet he would jump start my car even if he read this first, although he might jump ON the car and sing a few lines from Man of LaMancha as punishment for my besmirching attitude.
I heard a [different] song, again, without wishing to, whose primary lyric was “i wish that i could be like the cool kids. like the cool kids.” no rhyme, just that over and over again. While this seems in conflict with “i’m a nerd and i’m cool” and thus a distinct personality type, both speak of a feeling of subjugation. “I’m not cool, I’m not good enough” & “I AM cool, other people who think they are cool actually aren’t.” People in the first group aspire to be the people in the second group. Both see themselves as nerds that society does not approve of, and both are disingenuous. If your song is on the radio and I hear it at the laundromat, you ARE the cool kids. And then if you say you are a nerd, then I have said this before.
Oh chads. Having a prefabricated message from nobody that mysteriously speaks in the first person and that is sent to every single actual person regardless of merit or attempt at it has thoroughly appeased my desire to be appreciated, and so I go out and vote for my favorite factor of purple now.
which is convenient since I literally cannot determine a thing about either of these people beyond that one is a lawyer and the other filed for bankruptcy in 2010. I have to think if somebody WANTS to be the dintdooned registrar of voters they would have a reason for it, or at the very least some piece of personal information they would want me to know before I knew they filed for bankruptcy.
I ought to directly acknowledge the City Wide Open Studio Alternative Space Weekend Fantastic Marvelous Mystical Hoedown because anyone I gave a card to will, like on any other year, come here, just see a random web log and think I am not serious about art. I am! Just not about organization and web pages.
There was a great amount of positivity, even though I had some jealous points amidst that. That was less pronounced than usual. It is nice to be able to have things up for three days and there be a chance of somebody really liking it on the third day, to not be beheld to the social media “three minutes and you’re out if you don’t get a retweet” general way of things.
For the first time in years I felt like maybe there IS a chance that, provided I remain dedicated to improving, I can get by on the merit of what I do, independent of my [in]ability to like irrelevant junk that happens to be new or deemed topical by unaccountable parties. There was on the premises, particularly on the second floor (though several of the best things I saw were also there) plenty of material that I thought was derivative, low effort, or flat out disgusting, and deliberately so, but it had no power to follow me around and be the first thing i saw each day, via algorithms or people who aspire to be algorithmic, and thereby causing me to react to it in a regrettable manner instead of concentrating on my own business, beyond this spiteful paragraph here.
I feel more in control this year, building on what I started doing in 2017, when I stopped accepting advice as to what sort of exhibit I should have, and dispensed with frames, which cost extra money, are heavy, and need carpentry and post-show repairs which do not suit the skills I have and result in less time and space for more art. I only hung up canvases where there are unsightly nails and screws already stuck in the wall, which there typically are. I don’t believe somebody should have to pay 50 dollars if they just want a copy of a picture of dumb old nemitz for some reason, until such time that the preference becomes a criminal act and subject to fines.
My ball of used blue adhesive gunk. Compare to my ball of used blue tape from 2017. I stocked up on the glop because it is reusable, not expecting to be “stuck” with oddly textured walls that it did not adhere to well, which necessitated that I acquire pushpins. Or use more tape. Nonetheless I used quite a bit of the muck. And I will use it again!
I must give special appreciation to Carlos Lopez, another artist displaying near my position who had a more solid skills, a professional setup, apparent business interests outside this dinkity art show and nothing really to gain from being nice to me, and even with me griping probably audibly from the moment I laid eyes on the space I had. He tried to direct toward my zone people who might not have looked otherwise. And I could see that plenty wouldn’t have, based on how things went when I was out there alone. It is rare to be appreciated by a dedicated artist who isn’t trying to push me in a regressive direction or selectively ignoring me until such time that I drift into one out of desperation. I do not know if we will meet again but it proves that I do not have to be alone in these things.
I made twice as much money in sales as my best previous occasion, although it was less than half of my expenses for the event. However some of what I paid the most for, such as comic books and poster prints, will still retain whatever value they may be presumed to have if I manage to not wreck them long enough for somebodies else to want them.
this instance of mortimewde stapleton meepmire (bow tie imbecile) is likely saying “bloody rubbish” because the one in the comic book is not discerning enough to say things like that.
What measured “success” there was I think owes a bit to the comic books, which is a great relief. Anybody can put out one comic book, but having two shows that whatever barely disgestable nonsense is in the first one wasn’t just coughed up on a whim with no plan. It WAS but a plan gradually appeared and I spent much effort retroactively applying it!
I spent much of my exhibiting time making up signs to try and explain circumstances of the matter that did not or could not have occurred to me before-hand. This is the only one that was not able to be recovered afterward; it was posted in the less commonly used elevation machine to alert people trying to avoid the regular elevator what room i was showing things in. Of course the actual numbers at the rooms are hard to see and almost impossible to guess a location from seeing without the room. The 3 ought to alert you that it is on the third floor, but it might not. Apart from that, in the moment I thought I was making a clever Les Miserables allusion, and then after writing this out realized it could have been cleverer: had I written “My name is Bim Shwelbim… and I’m UPSTAIRS!…” But beyond that, I don’t want people to come see me based on my ability to reference broadway since it has been thirty years since anything went on broadway that I would want to talk to anybody about and I do not have a broadway themed gallery. I would not want people to see me based on my ability to reference anything since witnessing 20 years of fanart and obnoxious “mashups” on the internet has soured me on the idea of personal expression exclusively via recycling other people’s personal expression. But doing it once in a while is fine.
The print seen here was made improperly so I was not sad about losing it, though I prefer to think somebody wanted it and took it, rather than it fell off the wall on sunday and was disposed of before I returned monday to finish gathering my other material.
This pencil drawing here was in fact stolen once, back in 2012ish at Southern Connecticut State Universitoid, in the area where you would wait for a car. I was waiting for a car, but had to visit a restroom because we had not met up in a while. And the natural instinct when you see a school project at a school unattended for three minutes is to assume it materialized on the spot and belongs to nobody and that there is no possible means through which to confirm that. I wish I could have met whoever took it to thank them for making me feel like there was some level of demand for what I was doing, but the campus police did not provide contact information and my expectation is that having something confiscated by campus police would make you disinclined to meet the person who presumably demanded that occur.
Oh beets this is trailing into irrelevance. I mean to reserve that and my complaints for a second, separate post, which generally means I will never get around to making such a post, which is probably for the best!
This pat