The Artist's SoapboxThe Artist's Soapbox

The News and the Views. The artist’s blog. Here you’ll find the latest site news and opinions of the artist.

Well, it finally happened

Had someone come out on Facebook and rant at me over the “tranny” comics in Nip and Tuck. They (of course) told me about what a big fan they USED to be, that they were (of course) never reading my comic again, and that I. Am. EVIL! (yeah, periods and all, just like that.)

Really, I was starting to wonder. Those strips have been up for about a month, Come on, Snowflake Mafia, hop to it already! You’re slacking off!

Now to start off with, for those who missed the bulletin, this site and these comics have never been a soft, gentle, sensitive sniff-my-butt-and-tell-me-it’s-like-roses social commentary. I may be a fan, but this ain’t My Little Pony. To the contrary, I have always more closely followed the robust humorous traditions of the comedic greats such as Bugs Bunny, Daffy Duck, Woody Woodpecker, Tom and Jerry— Comedic Sociopathy. I mean, come on, in one of the earliest strips Nip illustrates a flaw in an ethical argument by smacking another person in the face with a two-by-four. It’s not like I’ve been hiding this from anyone. You darned well knew what you were in for when you started reading– We don’t DO subtlety here at Chateau Ralph. We serve up your sacred cow steaks lightly grilled and violently pummeled with a tenderizing hammer.

Of course, Social Justice Snowflake out there has so many sacred cows they might as well be a Texas rancher. Which brings me back to my first point: where have you been, Snowflake Mafia? I gave you so much love and attention, and what do you respond with? Nothing! Why aren’t you more attentive to my needs? I thought we had something special! Liberals… so fickle. Ah well.

But evil? Well, I’m as wicked a sinner as any man who lived, and needed Jesus just as sure as any of them. But to my poor humble understanding of good and evil, among the acts that would fall under “Evil” would be to take a seriously disturbed person and encouraging them to destroy themselves trying to live out their delusion. Indulging insanity is evil. Holding a gun to everyone else’s head and forcing us to indulge insanity, even to the point of self-endangerment (and forcing us to let mentally disturbed, self-mutilated men in dresses follow our sisters, wives and daughters into the ladies’ room qualifies) is also Evil.

Special Snowflake, YOU are evil. You are a sick sociopath who, were you given custody of a boy who thought he was a bird, would take him up on the roof of a twenty story building because he wanted to try and fly– and then when he jumped, would push us off after him so we could help him flap his arms on the way down. Bawk, bawk, bawk, splat.

NO, actually– you’d go further than that. After the kid got scraped off the pavement with a putty knife, you’d go on a birdy-kin social justice crusade. You’d demand flying lessons at school for all the birdy-kin, and free giant birdy-kin birdbaths, and specially built statues for the birdy-kin to poop on. You’d hold seminars at public elementary schools and teach all the children there that they can be birdies too, if they just wish really hard. You’d make a fortune selling them beak implants and chicken-feather suits, and conducting arm-flapping classes. Then you’d blame everyone else— their parents, their teachers, their pastors, everyone who tried to tell them “No, you’re not a bird!”— when inevitably and unsurprisingly, instead of flying south for the winter, they ended up as a wet red stain on the sidewalk. And deep in your rapidly advancing terminal case of cranial-rectal impaction, you’d feel good about yourself for making it happen. I’d say “I hope you can live with yourself,” but really, the tragedy is that everyone else has to live with you too.

But yeah, Special Snowflake Mafia Member Number 9238— I’m evil. Because of a cartoon.

Ah well, back to work. I have comics to draw and stories to write, and you and your other little Snowflake Mafia friends have simply hundreds of dissenting opinions out there to suppress, derangements to support, and tantrums to throw.

And thank you again, dear little Snowflake– your sweet, nourishing hatred gets me through these cold winter nights.