Artist's Statement
Sorry to be late posting this week.
I had to turn this cartoon into the City Paper with
only three panels completed (and a much less funny
version of panel 3, with only one image of Past Tim).
You, my internet readers, get the full version with
an extra panel, complete with color! It took me until
now to post because my colleague Megan Kelso was visiting
town and I opted to spend all my time going to the
Natural History Museum with her and her daughter or
drinking beers and yakking late into the night with
her instead of updating my website as I should have
been. In other words, you, too, have now been inconvenienced
and deprived by that self-centered good-for-naught,
Past Tim. You see? You see how he is? This is what
I have to contend with all the time.
This notion of being callously fucked
over by one's own Past Self has spread and become a
meme among some of my friends: Past Mike once again
did not rinse out yesterday's coffee mug; Past Jenny
got stoned and checked email again instead of doing
any one of the hundred and fifty-seven things on her
list. Oh, these selfish, thoughtless Past Selves, caring
for no one but their own past selves, gleefully giving
the finger to us earnest, hardworking folk of the future
for their own short-term pleasure! It’s so useful
to be able to blame Past You for all your poor planning
and laziness and self-sabotage. Damn them. Damn them
all.
I don’t have too much to say about
this cartoon except that I am very pleased with the
cartoon emanata I improvised to indicate “crazy
girl you should not go home with”--dancing red
flags about her head. It was something of a challenge
to come up with semiotic indicators of craziness that
were not the stereotypical orbital rings or floating
cuckoos. A friend of mine once described the “stink
lines of craziness” he could see radiating from
a woman’s head in real life, but this seems too
easily confused with the tingling of Peter Parker’s
spidey-sense. I did give her what the late David Foster
Wallace memorably called “hair fangs.” My
colleague Megan urged me to draw a handbag jammed and
overflowing with crap, but I’d run out of room
and time. Houndstooth was a very poor choice for an
artist already harried and past deadline and tired
of drawing.
About the little sailor suit, I think
we can all agree the less said the better.
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Also, coming soon, I promise: The
Pain merchandise, including custom
posters, T-shirts, and coffee mugs. Requests and suggestions
for featured designs are welcome. In the meantime,
please buy my books.
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