🎨 Artcow Iconoclast / Jonathan Mack Sweet - The Chris-Chan of Arkansas

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People tell me I look a lot like my dad when he was my age.
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Actually, Jon, you look like a testicle with glasses.

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This combination of clinical insanity and backwoods stupidity caught my attention:

"We see, after much wrangling, One World Trade Center finally erected where once was rubble-- then they stick a glass dome and spire on top and make it look like a mosque."

It's worse than he thinks. Look at this monstrous dome with its satanic spire looming over a Christian city in Italy:

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The horror! The horror!

Oh, wait. That's the Great Synagogue of Florence.

And look at these damned Muslim domes and spires soaring over the Christian capital of Germany:

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It must be burned with fire!

Oh, wait. That's the Berlin Cathedral.

The Giant Brain of Blytheville apparently thinks that any building with a dome and a spire or a minaret is a mosque. He really needs to get out more. Or maybe study some history and architecture (and literature and politics and philosophy and science and grammar and diction and photography and art and economics and logic and every other topic under the sun in which he has repeatedly displayed a stunning lack of basic knowledge) instead of watching children's cartoons all day.
 
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Christ, he does look like a hog testicle with hair glued on.

At least I had the decency to spoiler Sweet's face.
 
Dr. Merkwurdichliebe said:
watching children's cartoons all day
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The Sweet yard is a jungle, the Sweet house is a wreck, and the (not so) Sweet pee jars are full. Mama Sweet is either too old or too busy (she works at a hospital from what I've read) to do the work herself. But Looney Tunes cannot wait for such trivialities!
 
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I don't want to keep beating the dead horse face, but he's only 7 years older than Chris. I guess lying around all day watching cartoons in a moldy house ages you in dog years.
 
Chan the Wizard said:
I don't want to keep beating the dead horse face
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Imagine what it's like at the Sweet house. Amongst the mess (with old ramen bowls and webs), the theme song to My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic wafts through the stale, moldy air as multiple cats (and a diverse ecosystem) are on the prowl.
 
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I haven't once heard of anyone turning their life around past that age.
At this point his future is set and it involves a lot of Easy Mac, basic cable, and black mold.

I hope that is one of the facts that he never gets through his skull, its too scary to imagine how it would feel to realize you wasted your entire life.
 
Chan the Wizard said:
His house is more likely to collapse and kill him before that realization sinks in.
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I reckon if you gave him Methuselah's life span, he'd still be this fucking stupid, entrenched in this thinking, and complaining about ASU centuries after the fact. Right down to his last words calling the Dean a fartknocker on his death bed shortly after his 968th birthday.
 
He could, theoretically, turn his life around if he made an all-out effort, but since "effort" and "Jon Sweet" are things best not used in the same sentence without a negative qualifier, I doubt anything will change. He's banked his whole life on something impossible, so unless he abandons his goal of returning to half-past 1997, he'll never improve. Of course, he's defined himself by his quixotic quest, so any change in goals to something more realistic would require a massive amount of soul-searching, which would probably be facilitated with therapy. So, yeah, unless he's court ordered, he's not gonna get the help he needs.
 
Sanae Kochiya said:
I will admit, I kinda wish I could've seen Sweets back when he was in university, because he sounds... enthralling. Just this weirdo that random does stand-up comedy in the cafeteria and spends five minutes at his doorway picking up ever single penny that was wedged into the frame because it was "a gift."
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I'd like to see it too. But, if the reactions of his fellow students that we are aware of are representative, it would get old pretty fast of I had to live around him.
 
Le Bateleur said:
I'm not sure. His comedy idols are Howard Stern and Andrew Dice Clay - neither of whom are known for making themselves the butt of their jokes. I can't picture Sweet voluntarily doing anything self-deprecating. He's too insecure.
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The thing is, though, Sweet wouldn't think the salad bar bit was self-deprecating. He'd think he was really putting on a show, and that people were laughing with him, not at him.
 
At the risk of powerlevelling, there were plenty of oddballs like (but not exactly like) Sweets at the college I went to. Scruffy, fundamentally unremarkable and undesirable young men who craved attention, either because they'd never gotten any or because their adoring Mommies gave them too much. They dressed like idiots and did wacky cringe-inducing things.

There seems to be a quality or duration of social exile that really breaks some weaker minds. I've watched it happen: a tipping point into total shameless unselfconsciousness where you just start doing things and dressing in a way to get some-- ANY-- reaction... either because the part of you that feels shame is dead or the (understandably human) need to have your existence acknowledged is so overpowering it deranges you.
 
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