Hard Copy

September 23 2016

Hard to Swallow...

When I tell people something terrible, I usually end with, "but it's not a big deal." Or sometimes I just laugh, inappropriately. A couple of weeks ago I ran a marathon (don't worry, I'm still mostly a lazy piece of shit) and it completely broke my body and totally almost killed me. When folks ask me about it I say, "it was the most awful thing I've ever done, hahahaha. It was pure torture and I almost died. It was hilarious!"

When you read the news, the news-people don't do that. They tell you something awful and it just hangs there. Palpably. Chewing on your face. You wait for the punchline and it never comes. You just have to accept that somebody did something amazingly evil, and ya know, they don't even feel that bad about it. Sometimes I blow off my friends so I can eat ice cream with my cat. And I readily agree that I'm terrible at life. Everyone has a good laugh. Except for my cat.

I watched an episode of a TV show recently where thousands of people in a metropolitan area where infected with a deadly super-fast-acting virus by an eco-terrorist. By the end of the episode it was cured and 100% of the people were saved and everything was totally and completely fine. Even the bad guy shot himself in the end, so there was zero clean-up work. Next episode.

I don't want to burden my friends with my pervasive and bottomless depression. What a drag, right? And I'd like to believe that there are still some OK people doing OK things. Adopting puppies. Helping stranded motorists. Not blowing buildings up. That sort of thing.

So I write a comic where everything is just totally fine. So sit back, relax, and read it in comfort. Just don't go outside. Dear lord whatever you do don't go outside. Barricade the doors. Hide your children. Cower in terror.

Haha, just kidding. It's fine.


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