On business

And I'm busy again. Distractions, distractions. But welcome ones. I bought some gouache at the goading of my friend New York Dan, and I'm looking forward to seeing how the hell that business functions. It'll have to wait until I finish these last six panels, but I plan on trying to do classy things with it. We'll see.

Brother Cat protests the Bear's challenge to the head of the security council. Tragically for him, his pleas fall on deaf ears. All that owl is thinking about is eating mice.

And Brother Bear sets off. Showing my hand a little here, but this is one of the last panels. After his tragically climactic battle against an old friend gone mad, he sets off toward parts unknown. There there may be dragons, but behind him there certainly be vipers.

Two more down, six more to go. And some of the more interesting ones at that, so I'm happy to get my ass back firmly in gear. I finished reading a book recently, which I would gladly cast into the sea. "The Man Who Was Thursday" was written by GK Chesterton in the early 20th century as an anti-anarchist novel/religious allegory about how fantastic England is. I knew it would piss me off, but being considered a classic I decided its paltry 200 pages would be a welcome break from the blocks of Russian prose I've been happily slogging through (plus considering the persistent influence Chesterton's inane politics have on politics today, I figured it'd be interesting to get to know the enemy). It wasn't. It wasn't clever, it wasn't witty, a predictable story, and worst of all chock full of appeal-to-pathos Christian anglophile horseshit masquerading as cogent arguments. It bordered offensive. One thing is certain: Chesterton loves England and not Chinese people or Blacks.

Bah. Otherwise, I've been chasing phantoms. It never ceases to amaze me, the way I can extrapolate a whole string of maybes and misinterpreted hints into a load bearing structure, and then become utterly destitute whenever it crumbles around me. I am an idiot, it's true. But I'll chase on, nonetheless, because the end is ultimate and impetus is real. Irish cad, author and playwright Brendan Behan once said, "The most important things to do in the world are to get something to eat, something to drink, and somebody to love you." The latter of the three is the real trick, I suppose, because I'm eating goat and drinking scotch as we speak. I wish you were here.