It’s weird how, the older I get, the more the future changes from a hope to a threat.
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"Guns Are The Answer!" Said no Scientist Ever
Nothing brings back the thrill of the Middle Ages quite like a powerful group of rich, ignorant people stifling science and the betterment of life using threats, money, misinformation and blind idealism.
Maybe guns are the answer, but until you let scientists look into it correctly and without bias, all we have is the unchecked opinion of a gun marketing company whose only interest is money and propagating their beliefs at any cost.That being said,
I really miss Tumblr. It’s so effortless, so unpretentious. I go to Wordpress, and it’s all like, “What brilliant semi-professional quasi-novels full of life, hope and justice are you going to create and share with maybe 1.4 people?” And then I get kind of depressed because writing 8 page rants in an online diary is lame, and so I just save everything to draft and never share links with anybody.
Then I go to Tumblr, full of its hipster photos of people’s pets and dinners, hilarious reposts of GIFs, and meaningful photo blurbs probably about politics, and it’s like, “Hey man. You should do something. Or not. It’s whatever. <3”
And then I don’t write in either of them, because I feel the guilt of blog abandonment.
Plus, I’d like to rename this one. But I can’t. And that’s lame.
Sigh.
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“Oceania”
I would give someone money to recreate the partner to this guy.
(If you know anybody who’d be willing to try, let me know.)
What I need is a jewelry maker person who’d be willing to try to reconstruct a mate for this earring. It’s obviously handmade, and the stones aren’t uncommon, but I have no skill for such matters and I’d love to pay someone to attempt to replicate it. Know anybody?
I really don’t know how to respond when people ask me to illustrate puppy dog books/any children’s book “based on a true story” involving someone’s horribly interesting pet who did something noble once. You see them in the grocery store, next to the Ladies Club cookbooks and Tabloids at the check out counter: Local author! “Fluffy Finds A Home!” “A Home For Rags” “Slobbers The Happy Puppy Gets Adopted By An Old Lady!” And the title is probably in Papyrus and the illustrations are probably done in colored pencil or a pirated version of Paint Shop Pro. The target market?
Grandmas. Probably the grandmas of the author and the illustrator, as that will be who actually spends $10 on another moralistic story about a dog who, despite being nauseatingly cute, can’t seem to ever find an effing place to live.
And I don’t wan’t to be that illustrator. I want the experience, but I want the story to be clever and the subject matter fresh. Basically, something people won’t immediately classify as a “hobbyist mom book that won’t make it past the bubble gum rack at Leekers Family Foods.”
People, no more lost puppies. Instead, think about the Stinky Cheese Man or something equally clever. Has anyone written about Abraham Lincoln as a futuristic crime fighter lately? When was the last time you read your kids a book about the quetzal, native bird of the amazon and avid pencil collector? Help a budding illustrator out and make your subject matter worth everyone’s time.
…Sigh. Ungrateful much?
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I started interning as an illustrator at TfL in February and to say that I’ve grown would be an understatement. The design/ad world is dog-eat-dog. Clients are mean, coworkers are impatient, it’s always go go go. But at TfL, there is no client, no boss, no deadline. If Buddha had a job, this would be it. I’ve seen the best of human nature every time I open the doors; people striving to serve one another, and not for a paycheck, but because they honestly care. They want to see you shine and they
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Don’t know where this came from, but it’s like someone’s been spying on me and writing down all my social preferences. There’s not a single thing on here that isn’t true for my life.
Won’t You Be My (Passive Aggressive) Neighbor
Once upon a time normal people lived across the street and their front yard looked like this. However, for the past 2 years, they’ve decided to keep that part of their yard covered in ripped up black tarp, held down with bricks. At first I thought it was to protect precious Amazonian orchids, but now I’m starting to think that this is a lazy, ugly way to keep from mowing it. Either way it looks like rubbish, and the next big windstorm I’m going to go out in the middle of the night and steal all their tarps and put their bricks in my garden. Oh that Kansas wind!
That is all.
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Draw Something. But maybe not this.
What the what?
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Operation: Cat Scratch Fever has commenced!
The cat has formed a little trick, as most cats do, to get us out of bed and make us do things for her (specifically, letting her outside.) Initially she would just yowl at us at about 7:50, but when that stopped working, she began scratching the bed. She knows she’s absolutely not allowed to scratch anything except the stair carpet, and when she attempts it, we immediately get up and open the stairway door so she can. However, recently she’s started scratching the bed skirt when the door’s been open, so we know she’s just wanting us to move.
Of course, she’s also realized that she can do this even earlier than we wake up, and we’ll let her out to shut her up, so it’s gone from 7:50…7:30….6:45…and Dan finally had enough.
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