s n a p p e r h e a d: comic strip

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Response to Well-Wishers

When wishing someone a pleasant weekend it is "taken as a given" that they (like everyone, the well-wisher wrongfully assumes) must look-forward-to and enjoy experiencing the days of not laboring or of working to earn their living more than they enjoy their workweek. Those who are comfortably retired—or that rare-someone who greatly enjoys the passion of their labors more than the the painful days spent away from their work—are still capable of understanding the glad-tidings as they were intended; and replying with a perfunctory 'thank you, you-too'.

However, my autism gets rattled when receiving a "Happy Thanksgiving!" demand, or a query of "What are your plans for Turkey Day?"

Because of a difficult to explain state-of-mind (ever-present in always-me) I find it extremely difficult to accept these glad tidings in the same manner.

Before-me replied, years-ago, with words of this nature:

"We don't celebrate the fourth Thursday of November. My partner is Native American. My ancestors tried really-hard to genocidally-murder all of her ancestors. Then, after my ancestors didn't completely succeed, they forcefully subjugated, second-class citizen-ed, and supported many institutional prejudices, all of which were inflicted upon every single one of her surviving ancestors (up-to and including her and her immediate family). Celebrating Thanksgiving Day was created by, and for, the sons and daughters of former colonizers and slave owners. It's an entrenched institutionalized prejudice.
So...it seems...?...that this would be a hypocritical thing for anyone to turn a blind-eye toward. For me. For her. For you. And for you to indoctrinate your kids into. Or, do you 'choose not to think' of the holiday in this manner? Because that intentional choice is you behaving intentionally as a hypocrite. Full disclosure: I didn't celebrate it before I met my partner; just one of many reasons we're simpatico."

Now-me, this year, replied, "We don't celebrate" full stop. I now understand that elaborating (with intentionally spiky "reasons") was pushing buttons and stirring the pot, but was mostly something I had once said in order to make then-me feel superior. That former behavior of mine was ineffectual, conflict-causing, and behavior which in-itself was a hypocritical way of behaving. I didn't know then what I know about myself now.

By writing this here, in my journal, it's up to you. All of it. I have no designed-ability to feel superior and don't have any way to know who—if anyone—reads this and then makes a lasting decision to find a reasonable restaurant owned/operated by fellow non-celebrants (at time of writing, it's mostly Asian food) which is willing to remain open on the ~~last~~ fourth Thursday of November, and reply with a 'we don't celebrate' of your own.

past beatings of a dead horse:

Harvest Festival

If I have a superpower, we'll know in the next...

Thirteen years.

Umm, eh, what's that?

I've learned about a superpower that I might have; it takes about thirteen years for results, so I'm currently testing to determine if I can strengthen its severity and reduce its lag-time.

Oh, wow, Ok. Explain, please. And. ahh, just hit the highlights. I don't have room for tangents or deep explanations in my head anymore today.

Twitter became the "first big thing" to reduce communication quality. Thirteen years ago, I created this artwork, titled: Kill Twitter, Kill It Dead after recognizing it was harming more than just the previously addled. Those who once possessed humor and contemplative insights were slowly (but not imperceptibly) communicating as if they were all self-lobotomized stoners.

Impaired awareness had caused as well as cauterized their brain damage. Consequently, they continued to blindly self-harm. For hours. Everyday.

As one of only a few audience-members who recalls admiring their expertise—as skilled aerialists and trapeze artists, net-lessly soaring thru the highest circus tent peaks—I felt dismayed to recognize them intentionally stumbling around the center ring, as they cheerfully climbed into and out of tiny clown cars with a growing crowd of others.

After thirteen years, Twitter was beheaded and arrow-shot thru the spine. While it does still exist as a "formerly known as" entity, its existence possesses a musky MySpace flavor.

Right, soo, yea, your superpower was to predict or to cause this with a cartoonish sketch?

And now, to determine my efficacy:

Kill the GOP, Kill it Dead

If you are reading this after 2035, and the GOP is still a viable US political party, then my superpower failed (or did not exist).

similar:

your tired...

Final Words

Well . . .

If I were to tell you only one thing about them; I would say,

"They were born with more bones in the part of the spine that covers nether-regions—umm, more tailbones! Yea, that's (was) their superpower, for sure. Better when using it to communicate and for keeping cold winds away. And don't get me started on how much more beautiful that presents when hoping to be noticed; but in that hard-to-notice-at-first kind of way. You know? Plants the idea from a distance, '...there's somethin' bout em...' and (only later) you'd be-thinkin: *that curly tail! So expressive.*"

If I were to tell you only one thing about them; I would say, "They were born with more bones in the part of the spine that covers nether-regions—umm, more tailbones! Yea, that's (was) their superpower, for sure. Better when using it to communicate and for keeping cold winds away. And don't get me started on how much more beautiful that presents when hoping to be noticed; but in that hard-to-notice-at-first kind of way. You know? Plants the idea from a distance, '...there's somethin' bout em...' and (only later) you'd be-thinkin: *that curly tail! So expressive.*"

Is "picture any import?" or can you separate the text from the image and imbue your imagination with the insights planted there by words alone? This is the challenge: Write a paragraph which you hope 'sets the hook' in readers and then attach an image which stands in opposition to the intended ideas in your paragraph.

Three Monks Addendum

First and most importantly, read the Allegory of the Three Monks to understand this five panel cartoon strip.

This is a test. You are the only person who will ever grade your test results. It is always pass-fail. If you have not already read The Three Monks (by scrolling down six essays to the 27 Oct 22 article) and you decide, at this point, to continue to read the below five panel comic strip: you have chosen to fail the first Go On test. That is only OK if you think it is acceptable because you are the only person who will ever judge your self.

There is a specific comfort/discomfort abstract concept emotional impulse (which is felt as a feeling behind your eyebrows) that carries the label self-satisfaction. You feel it only if you did choose to stop, read the parable, and now have decided to pass the first Go On test. Allow me to repeat myself, at the risk of being crude, there must be fifty ways to leave ... (slip out the back, Jack; make a new plan Stan...).

keep pulling threads:

caterpillar symbol for callow-level of awareness

cartoon point-counterpoint (from 2012)

Mandatory Cat Pick - Cecil Halloween 2022

When I Say

'I hear you'

I mean that

I hear every

paddle swish

of blood as

it sloshes

all syrupy,

as well as

the lickslap

eyelids make

when closed.

Good thing I

like dry food

Happy Anniversary Autumnal Harvest Halloween Night and Day of the Dead 2022

stick with funnybone theme:

half-century old story

overheard convo's are Funny

Ryan North's Dino Comic - Flabbergastingly Philosophical

keep going:

oh yea I See It Now

2020-2022 moguls

poached over easy

This is an attempt to sculpt my Reminiscence Bump into bumps. Plural. My end-goal is to have a Series of Reminiscence Moguls so eerily similar to the graph of the US 2020-2022 Covid19 infection rate, they become indistinguishable in my memory of this time. One replacing the other.

This homage to Ryan North's DINOSAUR COMICS was created by placing my words into Ryan's internet-famous, constrained, six panel comic. I did make slight alterations to his artwork (which are visible if you follow T-Rex's recommendation). I regularly read Ryan and highly recommend his daily webcomic or—if he is unfamiliar to you—you can mega-binge during one of your upcoming lock-down/quarantines and catch-up on the nearly two decades you've missed.

After informing Ryan, he replied:

Hey, this is great!! Thank you!
-- Ryan
RyanNorth.ca / Dinosaur Comics / @ryanqnorth

pertinent stuff:

overwhelmed & underwhelmed

floods & fires

more my-words/their-art comix:

fair use vs copyright

meta-thoughts

mayan murals

Thanksgiving on Rimworld

click🔍big

continue to more comics:

STUFF

Naiveté Scene

Santa and Easter Bunny

Vote Out The Imposter Among Us

continue more comics:

Anatomical Doll - strip

black & white - convention

stimulus money - explained

Haiku 検疫 5-7-5 俳句 Quarantine

neoadjuvant
quarantine, empathic act
thank true sickrifice

haikudos:
Haiku ほ 5-7-5 俳句 HO
Haiku 小道 5-7-5 俳句 Path
Haiku 装飾舗装 5-7-5 俳句 Asfault Ernate

Kids Thezdays

Rule 34, no exceptions

TOBG (timely oldies but goodies)

(pen/ink)

I created and posted this five years ago at the same time of the year. Today, I decided to drag this up from the archives to the present because I'm feeling very out-of-sorts and I can't seem to locate any of my vastly diminished creativity (it may already be completely gone). Maybe I've still got some around. Somewhere. But I just can't seem to find any and I'm too discouraged to search any harder.

...your tired, your poor, your huddled...

click and drag by xkcd

This should have been titled click and drag until your fingers bleed. The bottom panel is massive. It could take over an hour to read all the blurbs. I especially enjoy the ~~yellow warbler~~ floating jellyfish and the caption from the woman climbing in the schooner's rigging. Go look for yourself.