The Dead Milkmen released what many thought to be their last album, Stoney’s Extra Stout (Pig) in 1995, around the time Rust and Marty thought they had closed the case, and then seemingly disappeared entirely for a decade and a half before reappearing in 2011, just months before the interrogations in True Detective, with an album called THE KING IN YELLOW?
Don’t believe me? Just look at their discography.
Is this an absolute coincidence, or are the goofy alt-rock/punk band from Philadelphia the real masterminds?
I’m drawing a gag comic strip right now, and I’m getting ready to start drawing out a longer (but still finite) story that I’ve been playing with off and on for a couple months. What I’m kinda wondering right now is, should I just post the gag comic today, and start the story next week, or should I finish a page and just go ahead and throw it up today or tomorrow.
It’s pretty much the only way I would consent to watch the movie. I guess the real question at this point is, should I just go ahead and keep writing my own alternate version of what I think Space Jam 2 should be, until I inevitably get sued by Warner Brothers/LeBron James/The City of Cleveland?
The movie opens with a long tracking shot through the rubble of the city of Cleveland. The city is in ashes, and roving gangs prowl the streets looking for victims, looking for new kills. In the background, we hear a slow, sad, orchestral version of the Space Jam theme song, as a mournful chorus of children sings Come On And Slam And Welcome To The Jam Close up of a mother clutching her child to keep it warm in the terrible nuclear winter of Cleveland. They rest in the shadows of once great but now deteriorating statues to LeBron James and Drew Carey, looking over the city as great monolithic, deadeyed titans, their power eroded by time and disuse.
In the distance we hear a dog barking. The child perks up, and excited, runs from his mother to the lost looking and three-legged dog that wanders through the streets. The dog barks with excitement and the child laughs. But then, suddenly, the headlights of a car come on and there is a godawful screeching as an jeep, a makeshift ironclad all decorated with heads piked by the savages inside, all screaming like demons, tears out into the main road, waving cudgels and guns and great fierce blades come speeding towards the child. He doesn’t have time to run, only scream, before they are upon him. One of them grabs the child, and he flails wildly trying his best to wriggle himself loose. He manages, but only barely, scooping up the dog as he runs to the burning shell of a car on the side of the road, and tries to climb in to escape, to hide, to get some sort of safety. Everything is quiet for a moment, but then the glass shatters as one of the marauders shatters the window with his hand and grabs the child, and begins to pull him out of the car. In the distance, we hear the mother scream NO! OH GOD, NO! WHY LEBRON? WHY DID YOU LEAVE? The image of the burnt out husk of a city fades to black, as the children sing their haunting song. In the black, suddenly we hear a voice say Y’ALL READY FOR THIS? Quick cut. LeBron on the court for the Miami Heat, looking like he’s at the top of his game.
So, if you’ve been following me for a while, you know that what I really, really like to do is make stuff. For the most part, that’s comics and illustrations, but it’s also short films and essays and stickers and sculptures occasionally. Pretty much stuff that’s entertaining and personal and honest and sometimes, admittedly, pretty strange and esoteric. It’s pretty much what makes me the happiest I can be. And honestly, I think a lot of my output the last few months has been some of the best work that I’ve ever done.
The hitch is that I’m also pretty wholly broke a lot of the time, and working freelance can be an incredibly stressful and beleaguering experience, especially when work dries up, and I have nothing to do for long stretches of time, and I start to really, really worry about paying my bills and eating.
My dad once suggested to me that I should build a website with a paywall for access to my comics, but I really, really hate the idea of doing something like that, since I think it’s not really a sustainable model in the digital age, where people can easily get access to your content either way, and there’s enough other free alternatives that it would be ridiculous to assume that people would shell out for your work when there’s such a vast amount of other stuff that they can get for nothing whatsoever (if you don’t include the fact that you’re paying to use the internet as a service). Besides, doing something like that is pretty much anathema to what I want to do with my work, which is make it as free and accessible to as many people as possible.
But again, I do have bills. And I can’t always rely on commissions and contract jobs and freelance editing gigs to keep me going.
To cut to the chase, I’m thinking about trying to find some way to do a fundraiser.
I hate the feeling of cashing in the good will that I’ve built up, or the weird hubris of trying to put a price on my stuff since I’m pretty much a nobody so I’m trying to think of things I can do to give back to anyone who supports me, outside of producing more content. I’ve got a lot of really cool project ideas that I’d like to be able to share with you guys, but it might take a little bit of groveling to get there. Should I add a paypal button? Should I do some sort of crowdfunding thing? Should I have a week where I interrupt every post I make to talk about the importance of public broadcasting and promise that if you donate enough money you get an NPR tote bag?
Let me know what you think, including if you would be interested in being a patron, and what kind of stuff I can do for you, including comic strips and short films and maybe some other neat stuff.
I like sending people letters also. I was thinking of doing a pen-pal club or something.
you are dope. your comics are dope. they remind me of like the um. the um. the uh uhm. whats it called. it was like the story of the big bad wolf but from the wolfs point of view. and another thing that was like fables, but weird. and also a thing about squids. i dont know if you know what im talking about. the illustrator is pretty famous and i have no recollection of his name
… You’re talking about The True Story of The Three Little Pigs and The Stinky Cheese Man And Other Fairly Stupid Tales and Squids Will Be Squids by John Scieszka and Lane Smith.
I wanted to take a picture of myself holding a copy of it, but all I could fine was an old D&D book with a sweet wizard on it.
Any tips for intimidated first-timer girls that want to go into a comic shop and order Lumberjanes? Like, will shops know what I'm handing them or will they be like "who are you what is this why are you here?"
1. Wear your favorite plaid shirt
2. Take your best friend with you, because friendship
3. The comic shop employees should be happy to get the form because all the information is on it and they don’t have to look anything up, thus making their jobs easier
4. If they are rude, take the form back, yell A CURSE UPON THIS SHOP, then take your business to another shop
5. If you can actually perform curses, that would be ideal.
6. Walk away in slow motion as the shop explodes behind you. Don’t look at the explosion. Taylor Swift’s “Trouble” plays.
7. “They shouldn’t have messed with me” you say grimly
8. I forgot what we were talking about