While I’ve never really been involved in any online drama myself, I’m kind of looking forward to the day when someone misinterprets one of my comics as being racist or insensitive to lupus victims or something and just flips out screaming.
What the hell is “everything is art” anyway? With all due respect to Picasso, screw Picasso. Trees aren’t art, they’re nature. Trees just happen. Art needs some kind of intention, if only enough for someone to just say that the intent is there. At least, that’s my feeling. Of course, my art isn’t really the kind of art that people have these sorts of conversations about.
While Brett fancies an actual degree, I find that being a dropout carries considerably more Indie street cred.
Since that night, I’ve decided that if I ever have another near-death experience, I’m throwing a party to celebrate the anniversary. This is what I should have done when I rolled my car over off the highway a few years back.
I may or may not have had a lot of fun. It’s entirely possible that I had a really good time.