So I've not updated my journal in months and months and months. It's been one of those times when "life" just seems to want to kick you in the family jewels, again and again and again, and just when you think it's stopped and thing might be taking a turn for the better, oop, there's that steel-toed boot again! Of course, it's not as bad as all that - but it sure feels like it. Hur hur hur. Hence, no artwork has been produced in an outrageously overextended period.

Oddly enough, I'm doing well in school... particularly Chemistry, which has always been my weakest subject and is now... well, not. wtf? 42.

Kurt Vonnegut died, I saw on the news. He got to write a famour anti-war novel in his time. Everyone should be so lucky. Slaughterhouse Five, for those of you who don't know. Quality book, reccomended reading along with 1984 (I read them at the same time)

1984 is SERIOUSLY depressing. But it keeps you thinking about it even after you've finished reading it, which I think is a noble thing for a book to aspire to. The same can be said of the comic book Pride of Baghdad, which is an allegory/fable featuring that pride of lions that escaped from the Baghdad zoo when the americans bombed the fuck outta the city. Like any good allegory, it has staggering connotations - but they are concealed within the events of the boo, and so can be interpreted in several, sometimes very subtly different, ways. The Sandman, Pride of Baghdad, The Marquis, and other such comic books give the medium its nobility, its maturity, its... er... 1337-ness?

Anyway, the bell went, so I gotta go. I might update this journal entry later when I think of more to say.

*EDIT*: Whoever gets the 3000th pageview, please be so kind as to leave a comment on the front page so I can see who you are, plzkthxbai