No need for job or money, but what is our purpose then?/
entertainment as survival of existence.

Okay, so let me lay out the road-work for all of you non-cartoons out there who may be reading this message in a bottle.

Cartoons live in a cell. Within it the possibilities are fairly large, but you never forget that you are within a cell. You are always a prisoner.

Now being a prisoner has it's privileges. You can be a laze-about and a do-nothing and you'll still get fed (although there is never a need here to eat, only when one of us chooses. So unless Chris actively decides we are hungry, it is not an issue). Clothes are always provided (unless Chris takes them away), and one always has money to buy anything one wants (again unless Chris chooses us not to).

That must sound like a pretty good life to all of you out there struggling to get by (especially since Chris barely bothers choosing to actively deprive us of our needs). Maybe you might think us cartoons are a bunch of freeloaders, just riding the coattails of a cartoonist's angst (who, being a cartoonist, is more than likely a burden to society anyhow). But I am here to inform you of the truth, that life in the cell is not so good.

First of all is an issue I've already mentioned, and that is a lack of freedom. From my cells in which Chris has taped me to the wall, I can see but a sliver of the outside world, and from there only a small patch of real sky. In fact, if I ever find my way to print, I encourage you all to leave your books open to a page of me looking out, and leave it in the sun, because the more popular I am, the more windows to my cell, or to my soul. But even so, a prison is a prison, that sky will still always remain on the other side.

But the largest issue for us cartoons is our capabilities of entertainers. We must be market-friendly kiss-asses, if we are to live, to merely exist. A comic strip without a venue is not something that a cartoonist can afford to pursue. Have you seen some of those cartoons with big-breasted dim-witted ladies prancing around played across from some man with his rescue and rape fantasies? They are the desperate ones. They know they can't endear a reader, so with fear, the hold onto the few things that will save their lives. Sex, violence, and propagating a male-dominant power structure. I cannot say I blame them, though it saddens me to see it.



A cartoon should not be driven to such extreme necessity for simple survival. Even me, I am only marginally marketable, but I play two roles. As well as entertaining the market, I somehow I entertain Chris. A cartoon who entertains his creator can only rarely be kept around. Now it's pretty pathetic that his entertainment seems based on some narcissistic self-condemning sick humor. But like the "bimbos", I'll take what I can get. I am allowed to live, only for the reason that I am able to amuse.

But what if one day he yawns, and in that yawn is written my death? A cruel cruel god runs my world, fate with petting hands of razor blades.

Luck is all, the only thing which keeps me alive; And then I think, can I even call it that? Alive? Here, in this cell... And then the next.