For Death the customer is always a pain in the ass.
Tag Archives: Job
This makes me laugh. Mostly because I forgot I wrote it. So when I saw it this morning it seemed new.
I don’t think of what I do as work. It’s much, much worse. It’s a passionate obsession. Which sounds cool until you’ve ever actually had one. Joan of Arc was passionately obsessive and look what happened to her. I write (and sometimes draw) not because I want to, but because I HAVE to. I have to do this because just occasionally you come up with something really, really good. And that feeling is more powerful than any drug.
It’s like pushing a large boulder up a hill and 97 times out of 100 you slip and the boulder flattens you. But those 3 times when you succeed it feels so amazing. So amazing NOT to have the boulder flatten you.
I don’t work. I engage in a futile struggle for comedy perfection in which I am statistically doomed to fail.
Are we having fun yet?
The clunky headline above is an experiment in site optimization. A lot of the visitors to this blog are casual surfers who stumble in from search results or reddit, digg, etc. If there’s any residual interest in this story (and I admit we missed the party by a week or so), maybe we’ll attract some interest with a tag-laced headline .
Over the Hedge: We’re tardy, but we’re trying.
I’m now aware, thanks to a comment on comics.com, that this week’s story line is similar to the Twilight Zone episode, “The Little People.” An astronaut lands on a planet of tiny humans. They think he’s a god. He obliges and ends up going all Old Testament on their asses until he’s staked down a la Gulliver’s Travels by the other GIANT human inhabitants of the planet.
Now I probably saw that episode a million years ago and maybe it’s buried down in my sub-conscious along my first date (7h grade dance, she abandoned me as soon as we arrived) and that 1980 Baylor vs. Texas football game where I mixed beer and chewing tobacco to spectacular reverse-ingestion projectile effect.
And so what if I did see the episode? This is how the sausage is made. A little of this. A little of that. And a little of this and that from you’d rather not know where.
The whole lording-over-the-diminutive-and-powerless isn’t even original to Rod Serling. I mean Rod ripped off, well… Continue reading