Category: News

Hiya friends! I am currently banned from Facebook for the next 24 hours, so I thought I’d give an update here. “Coincidentally”, I’m having Instagram problems, because you know, I was born yesterday and I suspect nothing.

How’s everybody doing? Are you being good and not posting your honest opinions on social media? I hope so. I wouldn’t want you to experience the same BS I go through, where there are people paid to eff up your online presence if you dare to say anything negative about the worst president in the history of America, or about mentally ill self-mutilators who function as puppets for Non-Government Organizations eagerly destroying the country. Since I don’t typically wear a dunce cap, I certainly don’t utter a word of opinion about the antics in the Middle East. I see how that goes. It’s lose/lose.

Sarcasm aside, I’d like to take a moment to sincerely thank my supporters, because I am deep in the throes of financial destitution and quasi-suicidal depression. You are pretty much all I have in my life. Less than a month ago I almost didn’t have a home anymore. I stay positive to keep from totally giving up. Seeing the growth in my Patreon is a big deal for me. A BIG deal.

Okay, so:

1. Today’s Ceaseless Fables strip is late. I am trying to keep this from becoming a habit. Most of the time I am exhausted from construction work so it tends to get the short shrift. I work pretty much every day doing construction odd jobs and it still doesn’t make the nut. Nothing does in 2024. That is lamentably the world we live in. Everything is increasingly unaffordable and as far as I can tell no one cares.

2. As soon as I can wrangle the time I will be producing another What’s The Deal video, about another subject from John’s Arm: Armageddon. If you want a hint, it will be detailing the backstory of my most popular YouTube video. Patron Saints will see it first, reg’lar folks a month later. (I think the last WTD will be public on the 17th of this month.) Eventually exclusive videos and livestreams will be more frequent.

3. I found an archived copy of the Ren & Stimpy reboot and I planned to make a video commenting on it, but it’s so toothless and boring that I lost interest. Billy West, Robin Byrd, Amy Sedaris and about a hundred Korean animators all presumably got paychecks for it, so there’s that. It was produced in my home state and the original music all sounds like cheap/safe tangential Muzak, and it features the words “hell” and “bitch”. That’s about it.

Thanks as always for your time and support. Against all odds I am still alive, at least for now. For that I have you to thank. This is Month Two of my life out of print, after a 33-year uninterrupted streak. This is pretty much all I have.

This is specifically directed at those of you out there who dream of becoming the next big comic book star, the next Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, et cetera. Those of you who grew up reading comic books from the “Big Two”, Marvel and DC, and who fantasize about seeing your own work published by one or both of those legendary imprints. This is my advice to you.

Give it up.

I say this because I care about you, even though we don’t know each other. Give it up. Forget that Marvel and DC ever existed. If you have made the mistake of honing your skills to favor the style of either company, then admit your mistake and move on. If you really want to make comic art, then put your skills to the test and create something that would never, ever see print at Marvel or DC, and especially not Disney.

I say this not because I’ve seen your work and I don’t think it would pass muster in “the big leagues”. Hey, maybe it would. I say this because there are absolutely no positives for any real artist at this point in time in “professional comic book work”. Not even the money, of which a real artist sees little to none.

Marvel and DC are administrated and staffed by sick, mentally ill people. It isn’t 60 years ago, where bright-eyed youngsters got their “big break” in the comics, inspiring new generations to draw and create their own ideas. Now comic book companies are owned by giant corporations who will eagerly pay their lackeys to cheat you and let you slowly die, anonymously.

You will never fight back. You’ll die alone and unknown. Your family might try to sue, and they’ll lose. Your friends will go on paying to watch movies from Marvel and DC as though you never even existed. You won’t even be a footnote in a reference file.

You will be someone who staked their life on a phony dream and lost it.

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, you get work at Marvel, DC, or Disney. It’s because you were seen as something they could use. If you made the fatal mistake of selling yourself on your alternative sexuality or your race, then you are, without question, being used by a corporation as a token. Not one single soul in any corporation cares if you live or die. (I should amend that, because no one in any corporation has a soul, but like I said this is for argument’s sake.)

Let’s say you’re a cosplayer, or you’re acquainted with one. A “cosplayer” is a person who has yielded their individual rights to dress up like a corporate icon. Cosplayers are almost invariably women, who choose outfits that flatter their bodies, because in reality they hate their lives. So they frequent conventions that play to their specific delusions, and get the attention of the type of lonely, unpopular men who waste their time drawing superheroes.

Bingo. There are now at least two human beings who can be exploited by a corporation to fabricate a lucrative sexual assault scenario.

Argue all you want; a woman who plays dress-up and a man who plays at drawing comic books can be easily manipulated by a corporation, in a matter of minutes. I can guarantee that neither has a strong family base, and that one or both has a substance abuse problem. One or both is a single parent. One or both has a “dark history” affecting other people, who might even be dead and unable to speak for themselves.

Suddenly the means for a major corporation to destroy an individual’s livelihood is available. Hush money is exchanged, and lo and behold, a troublesome man’s life can be crushed, without even a tangible murder weapon. I say “man” because that’s the gender this is inflicted upon. When a company gives a woman a large sum of money to shut up and play along, that’s exactly what that woman will do. I’m respecting your intelligence by telling you this. This is the real world and don’t fucking kid yourself.

Every single celebrity you see is a person who has been manipulated into submission by a corporation, without exception. They incurred legal expenses outside of anything they could ever afford, and people stepped in and made their problems go away, by signing them into legal servitude. They did something evil or disgusting, their fabled career was threatened, and someone stepped in and “fixed it”. Every Disney show exists to pay the legal bills of a serial rapist, or a trafficker of children for the purposes of sexual abuse. The entire entertainment media system is rotted to its core. Your dreams are almost literally being used against you.

This will never change. Ever.

Since Marvel and DC have become the arm of an unstoppable media juggernaut, they will forevermore be artistically compromised and cannot be trusted. Major comic books are pawns of rapists and traffickers of children for the purposes of sexual abuse. They own social media. If you take any part in them whatsoever, they own you.

You want to draw comic books? Fucking draw ’em, dude. You want to make movies? Make ’em.

The means to do these things and more are before you. All I have ever done, for over 25 years, is to create material on my own and offer it to the public for sale (or for free). I had a shot at Marvel back in the mid 1990’s and I blew it, because subconsciously I knew that a contract with Marvel would be a death warrant. It would have destroyed me.

I cannot offer you a single example of a “comic book professional” you can trust. Not one. Create work on your own, and if you bother to go to any convention, regard anyone who’s not a customer as your enemy. Anytime you see a grown woman playing dress-up as some established IP, picture a price tag on her forehead. Imagine what accusations she’d make against you for ten grand. For five grand. For a thousand dollars.

As an individual artist, this is what you are up against.

Knowing all this, do you still want to draw comic books, or make movies?

If so, cool. You might just be cut out for it. Just remember these two things.

1. Stay true to yourself, no matter what the cost.
2. Trust no one. Anyone can be bought to become your enemy. Anyone.

I truly thank you for your patronage and support. Don’t give up on yourself.

I dedicate this post to the memory of Ed Piskor, Bob Beerbohm, Mark D. Bright, and Joe Matt. May they all rest in peace.

Hello friends. I’ll cut to the chase. I need help. Very badly. Like, I’m about to be out on the street in a week. That’s how badly.  

For over a year I’ve been essentially living off of my friend/roommate, and it’s literally killing him. I work with him doing carpentry and construction, which historically has covered rent, and doing cartoons and commissions was ideally my second job, with which I could (ideally) cover my half of the bills, as well as food. I had a decently thriving eBay store for a while, where I sold almost all of the toys and memorabilia I’d saved since childhood, plus vintage toys I sold on commission for other folks. 

Economic factors outside out my control have decimated my cartoonist career, and I sell something on eBay about every few months, for under $20. A year ago, a job building a deck in Stockbridge (45 minute ride from where I live) ended in total disaster, injuring both my roommate and myself, and coinciding horrifically with the death of my roommate’s truck. Neither of us has recovered financially since then, and I’ve been subsisting on donations from fans, friends and family. We are both now part of the 40% of Americans who can’t pay rent. I’ve almost been evicted four times. Neither of us has health insurance; it’s just not reality. We just do our best not to get hurt. My roommate had to replace his truck, which set us back farther of course, plus because of the suburb in which we reside, his car insurance is over $150 a month, thanks to the notoriously terrible drivers here. 

It shouldn’t surprise you that on February 5th I was bounced off the hood of a BMW on East Ponce here in Clarkston. I survived intact because I am so psychotic that I fully expect to be struck by cars or randomly assaulted any time I am outdoors anywhere in Metro Atlanta. That is my mindset. I am diagnosed manic depressive and suicidal. 

Not long after this my roommate’s left front tire deflated, and when he put the spare on it later exploded, luckily not sending him to his doom on the highway. We lost over a week of paying work. In January the truck had brake problems that required service, and we lost two weeks. A week doing what we do translates to about $1,000. Also in January, my roommate’s kitty of 15 years succumbed to cancer, and my hamster Gomez passed away days later. It hurts to talk about either. 

I’ve been using free healthcare here in Atlanta for years to get the daily medication I need. If I didn’t need it, I would’ve moved in with family or friends in another state a long time ago. I don’t want to give up on Atlanta because of the great memories I have from the late 1990’s to 2014. I still dream of getting back on top with a functioning studio, like I once had. Every day that dream gets farther away. I’m too embarrassed to even check in on Facebook. I want to tell people I’m okay, but I’m not. I go from blind rage to catatonia to suicidal depression in a day. All I want to do is push everyone away and go die. My self-confidence and self-esteem are in the toilet. I have never felt more worthless in my life. 

It hurts me intensely when people ask why I don’t just get a job. I don’t think anyone understands what a corner I’ve painted myself into in life. I’ve put everything I have into being an independent artist and creator. On the advice of a therapist I applied to the lowest-rung, we-take-anyone staffing company I know of, and for whatever reason, I never heard back. I send out applications every day. Because I’ve worked “off the books” for over two decades, I have zero experience outside of my field, and no wage records with the Dept. of Labor. 

It could be because I was in county jail for 48 days 11 years ago, for aggravated assault and battery. It could be because I’ve written countless articles and comics that go against the “accepted media narrative” post-2020. It could be because I don’t want to work for a corporation that will force me to do things I don’t agree with to stay employed. It could be because I haven’t showered in weeks due to overwhelming depression. I could be the victim of an ancient curse. There could be a thousand reasons. I can’t get a regular job. 

Consider the following. Last month I found a Methodist church within walking distance and started going every Sunday to pray to God for strength. I read the Bible almost daily, praying for guidance. 

Me. I haven’t changed, I’m still 100% the same guy you know, who wrote and drew all that stuff. But this is how bad things are. I go to a church and I pray to God. I figure that if I have to go to church food pantries to survive, I might as well not just pay lip service, and there is no other positive way to connect with my community. Atlanta’s art/alternative community is long dead. It’s all violence, anger, and trash. I don’t even want to admit how long I’ve been alone. There is no reason of which I am aware for a human female to tolerate me.

When I was working from home, going without food was tolerable, but since I now typically work a job that requires physical exertion, I have to buy food, which by the way is substantially more expensive (thanks again to economic factors outside my control, which I’ll spare you a rant about). So if I work four days 9 to 4, and lunch averages eight bucks a pop to get me through without passing out, that’s $32. 

Now once again the landlord is requiring (late) February rent and March rent, plus the exorbitant “eviction fee” of $250, by the end of this month. 

That’s over $2,500. Of which over $1,250 is my responsibility. 

I need help. In my pipe dreams, I imagined that if I could only get a thousand Patrons at $1 a month, I’d have a grand a month. I’d be able to supply more and higher quality content, on a regular basis. But it’s too late for pipe dreams. I’m trapped. I can’t work enough or create enough to get by without donations. I try to justify it in my mind by remembering that when I was growing up, the PBS station constantly begged for donations to stay on the air. Every time I’ve seen Bernie Sanders (whom I once supported, to my detriment) in the past ten years, he’s begged for donations, despite owning several mansions and living a life that I could only dream of. Every single “social cause” you could name of the last decade has not only subsisted on your generous donations, but the indomitable support of nefarious NGOs (look it up) that I will refrain from naming here. 

Anything truly independent requires help and donations from other people. In technical terms I am an “underground cartoonist”. A “fringe artist”. I need all the monetary help I can get. For all intents and purposes I am unemployable. In May I will be 52 years old. I am what I am. This is it. 

I don’t want to be anyone other than who I am. I don’t want to give up what I have built. 

I need your help. I desperately need your help. There’s nothing else to say at this point. I am fighting extinction and I can’t do it alone. 

Thank you sincerely for sticking with me this long. 

Click here to visit the donation page. You can choose your own amount or pick from three choices. Using PayPal is not required, you can use any debit or credit card you like. 

If you’d like to use Venmo, here’s the link.