Monthly Archives: January 2017

Alice in Blunderland

alice in crazyland_edited-1.png

“But I don’t want to go among selfish, greedy people,” Alice remarked. “Oh, you ca’n’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all selfish and greedy here. I’m selfish and greedy. You’re selfish and greedy.”

Today, in a thread about ACA and profit in healthcare I questioned the foundational American belief in the nature of capitalism and decided not to respond to a comment about the futility of trying to “escape the trap of money” in a “ridiculously hedonistic, unhealthy narcissistic society” written by a woman who listed her current occupation as “artist” (she apparently worked in gems and precious metals) and her previous occupations as a manager of a Lexus dealership and “private jet broker.”

Private. Jet. Broker.

This is why some people don’t think there’s any room at the table. Because someone took up all the space with a private jet.

The woman in question seemed to consider herself fairly liberal, politically speaking. I didn’t know her, except I felt like I did, because I grew up in  place where money–not just enough money, or a comfortable amount of money, but ALL the money, as much money as a person could get, and then more money on top of that–was considered paramount. Not that they were bad people. The rich people I grew up around gave lavishly to charity and voted in favor of social services. But they lived in another world, and their children didn’t understand how ridiculously much more they had than everyone else. They knew they were rich. They just didn’t understand how poor so many people were.

This weekend I had a couple comic ideas around the theme of people debating whether or not the president-elect is fascist, whether the people who support him are nazis, and my thought that this kind of labeling/identity politics/name-calling is pointless. I don’t care whether or not a regime’s qualities align 100% with those of the 3rd Reich. I do care whether or not their actions result in .01% of the atrocities of World War II. So I’m trying to stay focused on a discussion of what people do, whether it is kind and helpful or selfish and greedy.

I maintain that 1) money is only one possible way of dividing resources, not a necessary evil, but a cultural system that exists because enough people want it to exist, and 2) that there are sufficient resources on planet Earth that everyone could have everything they needed if we all chose a more equitable way of distributing good and services while communicating the value of community and meaningfully contributing to society, but that 3) the reason we don’t usher in a true utopian era is because most people are greedy and selfish.

We’re almost all at least a little greedy and selfish. Even if we love our fellow human and wouldn’t personally wrong them, we accept a system in which some people can be a lot greedy and a lot selfish and love their fellow human not at all, and have no compunction about personally wronging them if it could be done for profit and power. We say it’s OK for one person to earn a private jet while many more people cannot earn homes for their family and food for their children even though they work 40, 60, 80 hours a week. We don’t have to accept this system as the only possibility, but the vast majority of us do. We could change that. For sure we could work out a system where everyone receives healthcare.

I’m afraid my Alice looks too much like Janet Jackson. I was going for Latinx. But you know I made the Hatter’s hands small on purpose. That’s not like calling someone a fascist. That’s comedy. The Putin-Hare kind of creeps me out. Also, I did this Tenniel drawing before, in a Dragon Comic. I already had the “Alice in Wonderland” tag.

 

Just a Good Old Fashioned Mandala

img052

Pinwheels. Peppermints. Diamonds in diamonds. Whatever you see. 

We begin this week celebrating the birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and we’ll end it trying to come to grips with what promises to be a bleak period in this history of civil rights in America. It can’t be sugarcoated. Pointing fingers, laying blame, and throwing insults don’t change what’s to come. Only standing up to speak when we witness inequality and coming to together to rally up against wrongdoings can influence history now.

Personally, I want to crawl back into my cave and curl up in the hoard. It’s gonna be a long week. Supposedly, we’ll grit our collective teeth and get through it somehow.

Happy as Kings Bulletin Board

img_4992

Presumably, successful kings of prosperous countries who are beloved by their people and enjoy a reign free from war or internecine conflict.

Look what I made while I was almost too depressed to stand up! Except for the placement of the attribution it’s almost perfect. Good thing the “ALL” is in caps. It sort of mitigates some of the bitter sentiment here. We should all be happy. There’s plenty of stuff for everyone. I’m sure of that.

The quote–or poem, rather, as this is a poem in its entirety–comes from Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses. I didn’t remember it from my childhood, but came across it in my copy of the book, which the Girl was reading for her English class poetry unit. That’s the whole sentiment. My copy of the book belonged to my mother as a child. She wrote her name and address on the frontispiece when she was a little girl. So that’s wholly sentimental.

The black letters are based on the Minya Nouvelle Regular typewriter-style font. The other letters are, of course, of my own devising. The chalkboard letters were created by hand-tearing each letter rather than cutting.

This piece took about 4 days, working an average of 2 1/2 hours a day. I hope it doesn’t blow away like the last one did.

Random Animal Facts

dont-want-to-talk-politics_edited-1

La la la I can’t hear you and if I can’t hear it it doesn’t exist.

It just gets worse and worse, and although the Rabbit reassures us all that everything will turn out fine, it’s still hard to hear. Today was not in the least a funny day. I made the observation on Facebook that we’ve moved through Orwellian to Kafkaesque. There isn’t actually an evil order behind events. There is a complete lack of order whatsoever. Nightmare chaos despair insanity stubborn pernicious confusion. Reason no longer exists in American current affairs and we citizens can expect no better existence than the lives of despised giant bugs and no reward greater than the release offered by death.

Ha ha! Just kidding! Or am I?

Random animal facts have greater meaning than the news. Just read an article on a new book about octopus intelligence in The Atlantic, even though I already know a lot about octopuses. Did you know that octopuses have 3 hearts? And, in effect, they have 9 brains: 1 big one in their big squishy heads, like us, and 8 nerve bundles, one for each arm, that are big enough to be analogous to little brains, in my opinion. Even the longest-lived octopus species only live a few years. The males become senescent almost immediately after they mate and then die shortly thereafter. The female waits until her eggs hatch and then she achieves senescence and dies.

Octopuses seem pretty smart. Maybe they have the right idea.

Dreams of Sushi

golden-fish_edited-1

It’s just a matter of motivation. It’s hard to made decisions on an empty stomach.

A fish dinner is a fish dinner, but if you start messing around with wishes, you might end up with nothing, which is less than a fish dinner. When I was a little kid I made wishes all the time: on the evening star, on dandelions, on birthday candles. Not on coins thrown in fountains, though. My mother did not condone the throwing of currency into pools, or anywhere else. But I noticed a trend, which is that my wishes pretty much never came true. I’ve had the same wish for decades and even with concerted effort, I can’t make it come true. Maybe in another 20 years I’ll make some progress.

Although I feel like I failed to complete any of the things I set out to accomplish today, I did draw a comic. And I guess I did some other, possibly meaningful things that were not on my list.

If I had wishes, I probably wouldn’t use them on personal things that I really want. In the long run, I think we’d all be better off wishing for peace, for people to be less greedy and more empathetic, for equality and liberty and justice and safety.

Charming

prince-charming_edited-1

It’s a family name. 

Please understand that this comic in no way reflects my relationship. The Man would never a) keep a pair of socks with holes in them, b) wear tighty whities/a tank top, or c) own a La-Z-Boy. He would also not miss his mouth if I made him nachos. He is too fond of nachos to treat them with such disrespect. Also, I don’t think I could get him to wear a crown no matter how many beers I got him. Well, maybe, but it would have to be a lot of beers. Anyway, he never claimed to be a prince.

I should have given the prince a 5 o’clock shadow. You get the picture.

Today I applied for a job, one that pays money. Got a callback right away because–yo! I gots mad writing skillz. At least where those skillz pertain to the writing of cover letters. Also, I have 20 years of experience. But I still have to take a test. Between that and making a new bulletin board for the elementary kiddies (the old one blew away and the librarian replaced it with a sign that read “This sign is out of order. Please do not read this sign.Oh, no, now you’ve done it. You should stop reading this! Why are you still reading this broken sign? Now you must go back to the top and start over”) and trying to finish 2 books and write articles about them, and of course, draw a comic and maybe work on a novel, Dragon will be a busy Dragon tomorrow.

Now Dragon is a migraine-y Dragon. No more screens.

Little Bonds Mandala

img051

Look, I did very poorly in 3 semesters of chemistry, OK? You think you’re disappointed? Imagine how my PhD chemist father feels. Please don’t judge my canon on this 1 work.

No, this is not an example of my finest work. But this has not been an example of my finest week. The human brain is like a top-of-the-line luxury car. It comprises myriad systems that appear impressive when functioning correctly, but if the wrong combination of systems fail, it doesn’t take you anywhere, no matter how remarkable its appearance. Mine can only balance so many stressors and disappointments before smoke starts shooting out of my ears, à la a perverted carnivore encountering a nubile vixen in a Tex Avery cartoon. Then, of course, galactic law dictates that you must run in circles before dunking your head in the nearest body of water. Or vat of ale. Whichever is more convenient. This process becomes time consuming.

Remember when I used to spend my weekends creating a backlog of webcomics to ensure that every day’s blog post received the loving attention to detail it deserved? Now I spend my weekends worrying whether some nut job with the tape measure and the citation pad is judging my lawn unfavorably, and, of course, worrying about what I, an impoverished, self-employed adult human, will do for health care once the Comedy of Errors that we will soon refer to as our federal government starts turning its mismatched gears. And, of course, whether or not rock god Billy Gibbons in particular, and the universe at large, has it in for me.

Washing Machines

washing machine_edited-1.png

But tell me again about how all kids have equal opportunity to achieve the American dream.

American public schools are structural inequality in motion. Rich kids go to well-funded institutions, and they attend prepared to learn. Many poor children don’t have that option. Here’s the source: One Answer to School Attendance: Washing Machines. We live in a world where little kids miss out on whatever advantages might be available to them because they’re afraid other kids will make fun of their clothes. And some people are OK with this. The solution is so simple, but society doesn’t consider clean clothes the right of poor children, apparently.

But some people do care.

Anyway, I felt like that story needed a little boost.

Dragon Comics 150

dragon comics 150_edited-1.png

Seriously, though. I really hurts.

Trying to remain upbeat. Let’s call that the theme for 2017. Trying to remain upbeat in the face of overwhelming downturn. Not taking it personally.

For example, today I got a takedown notice on a T-shirt design based on Dragon Comics 35 because, apparently, you’re not allowed to dress cartoon characters like Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top to make a joke about how only the guys from ZZ Top look cool doing ZZ Top. My personal understanding is that fair use dictates that artists have every right to use the likeness of famous musicians in satire, and if I had half the money of ZZ Top I could hire a lawyer to sort this situation out. But I haven’t made any money off this particular design and am unlikely to ever have the reach and power of Bravado International Group Merchandising Services, Inc. and their team of overzealous content protectors.

It drive me crazy on general principle. Poor Dragon has used up all of Dragon’s good fortune and now must suffer indignity after indignity as the Wheel of Fortune crushes Dragon’s will to live. Ha ha. Just kidding. It’s just that everything rubs me the wrong way.

Tomorrow is another day, as my mom always said. Tomorrow I won’t feel paranoid and cursed and as if I already used up every iota of my deserved fortune in life.

Man, it’s not even a picture of Billy Gibbons. It’s a picture of The Man wearing Billy Gibbons’s beard and clothes. I thought it was hilarious when I drew it.

And there you have the Wheel of Fortune.

Morning in America, 2017 (part 2)

morning-in-america-2_edited-2

According to my interpretation of the data, the impact of house fires is both small as well as beneficial. For example, we could be roasting marshmallows over there right now.

To get the wording of this comic just right, I Googled “climate change deniers” and found the wiki, which is chock full of mind-bogglingly specious reasoning and really has to be read to be believed. What is clear is that, for some years now, certain factions have achieved leverage in their fight against reality by accusing their opponents of doing the things they themselves are doing. For example: stating that the 97% of scientists who have studied the phenomenon are lying for their own personal profit (clearly bunkum: anyone who knows a decent sample size of scientists knows that scientists very rarely profit off of anything) when in reality, the people behind climate change denial (ahem…the fossil fuel industry) personally profit from squashing good science.

When I was a little girl, in the early ’80s, I remember reading about anthropocentric climate change for the first time. “Hmm,” thought little Dragon, “this looks like something that requires more data.” By the ’90s, data trends indicated, to me, a reasonably skeptical person, that there was something going on with greenhouse gases and the environment. By the ’00s, there existed enough information that no rational human being could dismiss the danger. But, instead of shrugging and turning away from a small percentage of irrational ostriches behaving in a dangerously self-centered, ignorant, and short-sighted fashion, we gave them a seat at table and an equal voice in a discussion that had been settled to the satisfaction of everyone who bothered applying rationality and logic to the question years earlier.

Guess what? Just because they let you talk on TV does not mean your argument possesses validity.

Admittedly, there’s a little Fox Mulder to me. I want to believe. I’d love to believe that there are aliens, fairies, and beautiful golden carp that grant wishes to those who pull them from the water but spare their lives. It would be wonderful to live in that world. I’d love to believe that, in the next 20 years, we won’t see the continued melting of the ice caps, the continued rising of the ocean, the continued trend in extreme weather, or the continued dying off of countless species (including large numbers of our own species dead as a result of climate based disaster).

I want to believe that so bad. But there’s. No. Evidence.

The house is on fire. Whether or not you believe fire exists, whether or not you believe the fire was started by bad wiring or an anomalous lightning strike or spontaneous combustion, whether or not you think there’s any point to fighting the fire, the fire will still burn.

This comic should probably link to my other comic about climate change denial and my other comic that uses a house on fire as a metaphor for people being married to their irrational beliefs.