Ahem, if I may.
The Iconoclast admits he debates like a child.
Well, how else am I supposed to debate equally with people who
think like children? Case in point:
You have no sense of aesthetics. You really have no idea how to design a comic, let alone draw.
What I hear is, "
Nuh nuh nuh! You is not good enough to has that! You is not has nuh bid'ness trying to is get what we is say you not can is has! You is should quit now and die!" Which is a fairly typical liberal socialist progressive world view. Unless I'm misinterpreting you severely, in which case I apologize.
All right, since you won't give a specific example, let's look at a couple of pages, shall we?
The layout looks fine... nice juxtaposition of hand-drawn and photorealistic backgrounds, funny puns, and unlike Chris, I can actually draw a shopping mall.
Are you saying I should stick with scripts and hire someone else to do the pencil/colors? I'd love to, but my old artist friends no longer talk to me after
the scandal.
To answer John Titor's question, writing is my day job. I supplement my meager royalties with the money I get from picking up cans on the road and what I have from liquidating old shop stock.
I learned early on I was too socially awkward for office work. I was actually encouraged to spend less time around the newspaper office because apparently I made my co-workers nervous. For example, one of the staffers--the girlfriend of
the guy who filed the phony charge, in fact--had a complaint about me always staring at this terrible scar across her throat. She was a pretty girl--it was like someone had taken a butcher knife to the Mona Lisa, and her disfigurement held an odd fascination for me. If not for this infantile behavior and pettiness behind the scenes I might not have been let go.
My next job turned out to be an even bigger disaster when my partner abandoned me, leaving behind a small store that was floundering. Then my idiot brother decided because of that screw-up I was no longer good enough to control my own money. So he pretty much took over my life, demanding a share of every dollar that came into the house. As his life got further out of control, his cut grew bigger and bigger. I tried shop work again--that time the store folded before it even opened. The two old grandmothers I was working for had a falling-out and dissolved the partnership. That gig came with a rent-free apartment in back, so I was obviously sad to lose it. Next time I decide to go into business, the answer is clear:
no partners.
You... suffer from ill health. Your life is miserable. Until you start accepting... the fact that there is something wrong with your thinking process, this will not change. It will only become worse. Why not go for a mental health assessment, at least? What's the worst that could happen?
Physical, not mental. And that's from living with my idiot brother for so long. The strain he puts me under has taken its toll on my body after many years, but my "thinking process" is
juuuuuuust fine. If anything, it's sharper than it ever was. I see the truth now. The worst that could happen? Well, about ten years ago I had to have a checkup for some dumb insurance thing. My brother as asked to drive me to my appointment. It was at 3:30 PM. The doctor was maybe five minutes late. His Imperial Stupidness got impatient, walked out, and drove off while I was in the office getting looked over. I was left stranded. I stood in the parking lot waiting for him, searching for the car. I wandered the hospital for eight hours. E
ight...freaking...hours. I couldn't find a phone or anyone there to help me. What was His Stupidness doing? The following morning, after getting high somewhere, forgetting about me, and passing out with his pants full of ,

, he comes dragging his worthless carcass home, acting innocent, no apologies even offered for his callous actions. So yeah,
that's the worst that can happen. I knew then he was becoming a monster. I should have smashed the boy's skull open with a baseball bat that day.
I totally remember... [when I was in college] that I wanted to actually, you know, study. Because that's what college is for.
Oh, don't be [cwc]naive[/cwc], Darkie darling. Most of the real life lessons I've picked up were learned
outside of the classroom--.in the newsroom and the bedroom.
So are you implying that all college relationships are long distance?
Actually, no, the System girls generally live within a 15-20 mile radius of the school. However, they usu. aren't University students, and a number of them are wealthy girls from good families who don't want a scandal. They have to sneak around, opting for the phone to arrange meetings, and don't like to be seen socializing directly with the men of campus.
I
did enjoy a long-distance relationship after my ex dropped out of my life, and as I said earlier, that caused trouble for us. I had to learn the hard way there's a difference between "broken up" and "on break", and to never look for women outside The System.
DTV simply
doesn't work. A storm in my area knocked the feed out during
Get Smart and the screen has been black for better than an hour. There's too many bugs in the system to be practical. I think I'd at least like the option of keeping one TV on analog just in case. Or maybe I'll just hook the TV to the Internet and watch one of my YouTube playlists. Now let's see,
Honey West, or the manic puppetry of Sid and Marty Krofft?