56. Meta Dysmorphia

When even your creations don't measure up to their expectations!

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92. Never Google Your Doppleganger

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In my lifetime I have been told that I look exactly like some people that I would consider to be not perfect replicas of me. Maybe I have a better self esteem than I project, but I feel like I don’t look like “ The Critic ”; as was earnestly expressed by a girl on a (first and only) date. Other twinsies I’ve been professed to have: Steven Wright Tony Hale Stephen Miller (Aaaaargh) Dr. Katz I don’t know. Maybe I’m vain, but I always pictured me as more of a Luke-Perry-with-a-really-bad-hair-day type. It’s funny how I have a pretty sturdy love and acceptance of my own physique, and yet my self esteem about other things (like being a functional adult in this crazy world) is pretty dismal.
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294. Double Bubble Trouble

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I’ve been obsessed with drawing and describing our silos and bubbles that have become exponentially more and more pronounced. The surgical separation of humanity in two separate species by the United States is as fascinating as it is terrifying. Homo Liberalis and Homo Conservativus. And of course these terms have no semblance of consistency, as we see liberals and libertarians drifting apart and conservatives circling back to monarchy in the USA after a long period of separation. My first attempt was this one:  The blog post can be found  here . When I first posted that comic in Reddit, I made a lot of people angry.  Apparently, pointing out that people live in ideological bubbles is the same as saying both sides are equal. People’s reaction to the comic felt like denial to me. I think humans don’t seem to want to realize that they are in bubbles. But we are. Increasingly so.  And make no mistakes, these bubbles are artificially generated. I was listening to The Lie...
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285. Regrets, too few to mention

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If you are one of the two or three people that read my blog with any form of consistency, you may have  noticed one thing. I’m a momma’s boy. Unashamedly, my mother is my hero. I ask her for advice constantly and I will never stop trying to honor her. In chauvinistic Venezuela during the chauvinistic 80s, a single mom of two, working in the chauvinistic profession of engineering, faced many challenges. What made her able to surmount her challenges was her determination to prove herself to herself at all times. She didn’t want to be seen as a woman doing a man’s job; she wanted to show the world what she could achieve. I only learned this later in life, but she doesn’t identify as a feminist, even though most people who knew her would consider her one. She identifies as a person that can do anything she sets her mind to. She’s incredibly driven. When I asked her what motivated her, she said that when she starts a new job, she looks at her boss and asks, ‘How can I become their boss ...
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274. Agrarian Contrarians

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The rural and urban divide has plagued humanity since before the actual great plague. Rural people did atrocities to foreigners, like blaming the Jews for the plague and murdering them. However, even in all their fears of others, they were always pro-monarchy. During the French Revolution, the feudal rural peasants wanted a revolution but also wanted to keep the monarchy. For some reason, being in the countryside has always rhymed with xenophobia and authoritarianist beliefs.  I know why urban voters are different, they're different because they live alongside minorities and immigrants and other people in a higher density. As I've said before, being around different cultures is a cure for hate.  What I don't understand is what makes rural folk the way they are. Why are they afraid of people they may never meet? Why do they want a strong daddy to tell them what to do? Most rural people I know pride themselves in their know-how and independence... why is that correlated wit...
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273. Knowing Nod

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I visited my mom last week. I asked my mom if she ever nods knowingly without a clue about what people are talking about. She said no. She said that she would always say “I have no idea what you are talking about”. You know what? I believe her. She would keep it simple and stop the conversation and ask for more details. But then, I thought a little harder and distinctly recall her nodding as I was explaining to her the junction system in Final Fantasy VIII and I know for a fact that she can’t tell her blizzarra from her blizzaga. Perhaps she does care about us and wants to make us feel like we're interesting. Other people I consulted with said that they have in fact, nodded along in ignorance. Those are my people. Acting like you are following along to avoid long interactions and explanations is my jam. If you’re curious enough you can google later without the whiff of social anxiety hanging in the air.  Of course, at work it's another matter. You can't George Constanza you...
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288. Old Spice

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Sex appeal is a construct. There’s no further proof needed for this than our own experiences. As we’ve aged together I’ve noticed how sexuality has changed with us. At present, I believe some of Roxanne’s erogenous zones include literal zones of cleanliness and order in the house. As for me, I have never been attracted to a woman more than when I saw my wife protectively yelling at the owners of an unleashed dog that was about to attack our pups. She’s such a badass and I love her when she stands up for herself. Like the hairs-on-my-arm-raise love. Neither of those things were in the equation when we were playing the field, back in the day. For those of you who’ve been married a long time, have you thought what it would be like to be single again? I know for a fact that for some married peeps fantasize about it, but in my case, I dread that imaginary situation with intensity. Dating was awkward as heck for me. To get to the appropriate level of socialization needed for me to approach w...
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279. Missable Quest

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When I was a child, instead of paying attention to anything that would’ve helped me later in my life, I day-dreamed. Or is it day-dreamt? If I had paid attention in class I’d know. Anyway, I’d imagine portals opening up and sending me out to a land in which I could be a lot of help somehow. I vastly overestimated what I could bring to the table as an asthmatic, introverted, anxious, near sighted dweeb.  The thing is, none of those fantasies were about helping people around me under realistic situations. It was always the Japanese isekai trope, before I even knew such a trope existed. It was always either fake enemies or fake people in need. It was never Pedro, the soccer prodigy in the first row that needed my help. Or the bus lady. Just new people in new places.  As an adult, it’s the people who throw themselves at others in need that capture my admiration. Nurses, doctors, social workers, non-profit workers. One of our nurse friends, Hayley, recently casually mentioned how s...
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