Just going to be one of those months everybody. March is in like a lion for me. Here’s hoping for lamb chops in early April. Too bad I’m not a libertarian or I could just shrug.
2Comment
With apologies to the prophet Nahum:
Godzilla is an avenger,
a passionate God;
Godzilla is an avenger,
expert in wrath.
Godzilla is an avenger against his foes,
he seethes in anger against his enemies.
Godzilla is slow to anger,
but massive in strength:
he will not remit punishment.
Mothra is in the whirlwind,
her path is in the storm,
clouds are the dust on her many feet.
Ghidorah the King rebukes the sea, and dried it up,
he made all the rivers dry.
Kyoto and Osaka languish,
the bloom of Tokyo languishes.
The mountains quaked before him,
the hills fluidified.
The earth became a waste in his presence,
the expanse, and all who inhabit it.
In the presence of his fury, who can stand?
Who can withstand the heat of his wrath?
His anger is poured out like lightning,
rocks are dislodged before him.
Godzilla is good to those who wait for him,
a fortress on a day of distress.
He takes care of those who find shelter in him
in the overwhelming flood.
He makes a full end to opposition,
and pursues his enemies into darkness.
What are you thinking with regard to Godzilla?
He will make a full end.
No adversary
opposes him more than seven times.
This has got to be fifteen shades of sacreligious, right? Oh well, its for the greater good. And by greater good, I mean the next century’s fantastic new religious faith:
Godzillacism!!
The people have been clamoring for a new, more violent and natural disaster packed way to worship for years. And while there are many cranky gods in the history of the human religious pantheon — none even comes close to Godzilla. Even when he’s trying to do good, pagodas are toppled and people run screaming through the streets. He’d cream Zeus and Thor with one burst of atomic breath, and make Buddha a light snack. Let’s face facts people, a god is only as good as the repertoire of special moves they can pull out in a pinch, and godzilla has quite an extensive list.
POWER OF FLIGHT!
I honestly can’t think of a reason why we shouldn’t be worshipping Godzilla right now. You’ve got loads of dualism (Godzilla is both creator/destroyer, mother/father, hero/villain, force of nature/creation of man), an amazingly cool heavenly pantheon, and a ridiculously vengeful god to justify any act of aggression you might need an excuse for.
And if the flying spaghetti monster gets it’s own fake religion, why not Godzilla? It’s just foolish.
We’ll hash out the details later.
Many shoes have adorned these carnie-like sized stubs I call my feet. In the deepest darkest winter months of burly Vermont, very few shoes are capable of handling snow and ice. So I think fondly of summer’s rushing brooks, soft grass and my radass rainbow flats.
I remember the day I bought these was on a trip to New York for the NYC Zine Fest. The call came on June 26th when cartoonist, Robyn Chapman, told me the thrift store near her had RAINBOW shoes and she thought of me. At that moment, my car started itself and I jumped down from my bedroom through its opened classic Honda moon-roof just like a cowgirl jumping onto her horse from atop a saloon. We sped the mile to the thrift store where Robyn waited to point them out. I fell in love. Paying all of THREE dollars for such beauties (or as I like to say $1.50 a foot) I realized the only way someone would give these shoes up was if they died…my enthusiasm waned.
Until I put them on! Rocking all the way to New York I sold the shit out of some of my menstruation comics, met Margot Dabaie and went to Mk Reed and Liz Baillie’s old studio. The shoes wait in my closet for the day when the light is finally right, the birds trill and the sun sings a cheerful song. Preferably some Black Rebel Motorcycle Club or White Ghost Shivers. Thank you.
Well, I’m doing better today, but yesterday was a little hard to get going. One aspect of the creative cartoonist’s life is the burn out. We spend MANY late nights to see our passions through to their ends. Whether it be producing mini-comics at a 24 hour copy shop or posting webcomics like us here at rare bits the cartoonist thrives on the manic twitch of the artistic nerve. And, like the aftermath of coffee or sugar, the crash can be rough. Yesterday, I crashed. Today, I’m doing a little better.
So, I had this whole elaborate drawing and write-up planned for my post this week, and it’s sooooo not happening. Next week, I promise. However, in an act of contrition for you, gentle reader, my autopilot kicked in at about midnight last night — powered by guilt and kool-aid — and I sketched up a couple of drawings of (probably) my favorite thing to draw. Skulls!
First off we have this sassy little number – most likely from some form of mummy or zombified corpse. I think that the browns add a real feeling of antiquity, while the patches of flesh and hair create a sense of dread and unpredictability. The fly, of course, is there to make certain that the comics code authority doesn’t approve our website. (not kidding. flies + corpses = bad for the kiddies. If you ever see Steve Bissette on the street, ask him about that one.)
Next up we have the man who may be at least partially responsible for my love of all
things skullish, the lovely Mr. Skeletor. Nothing much to say here other than how fabulous it is that they modeled the character of Screech from Saved by the Bell so closely on one of the beloved toys of my youth.
Is is just me, or could you make a model of Carrot Top, send it back in time to some 6 year old kid in 1984, and it wouldn’t even cross his mind that it wasn’t meant to do battle with He-Man? That toy-line had such a cross-section of muscle-bound freaks that good ol’ Mr. Top would fit right in.
I can see the play sessions now: “Fisto, meet Carrot-top. He fights the forces of evil with his flaming red hair and suspiciously texture-less face. Oh, and props. Lots and lots of props. People actually pay to see him. What a horrible world we live in.
Now that you’re sufficiently sickened, I bid you good day.
Jason
