Banal Hemorrhage

  Most of my comic ideas take weeks to percolate. Very few ideas come to my head fully fleshed out immediately. This is one of them. We were talking about Trump’s purposefully abhorrent cabinet picks and my mom started talking about the brain-worm guy. It immediately came to my ears as “why does nobody talk about the poor worm that had to share space with RFK Jr.?” And in less than 2 hours a comic was made. Thank you mom for the idea, that was a very productive birthday party!

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 ...

Back in 2018, when I first started drawing, I was also in the process of having the love of my life moving in. Back then, it was the most challenging thing I’ve ever done. And let me tell ya, most of my early bangers were all about this. Who could forget the sponge in the dish sink debacle.  If it was difficult for me, imagine how difficult it was for my wife. My path was discovering that I was a slovenly, inattentive little selfish boy. Her path was discovering that she signed a life contract with an unformed man. An incomplete model. A man on the tutorial stage while she was slaying the boss. I have gotten better. A lot of the realization was that I was not seeing the house with her eyes . The path took us through checklists and being able to understand the effect that a house in chaos had in her psyche. Things get better. But you have to put in the work. Here’s the original for reference, and here’s the blog post from back then.  

Drawing this comic I got an epiphany. I realize why I will never be a popular comic maker. I bet that successful artists have an idea, massage it a bit in their brains and explore different venues or paths they could take. In my case, it seems that I just go with whatever intrusive thought came first. When I first wanted to draw a comic about the transaccional nature of morality in the United States, the first thing that came to my mind was “and do it Game Boy Pokémon style”, I bet good artists don’t just let that first idea stand there, blocking others. Perhaps they have a mass of neurons in the front of their brain, a ‘prefrontal cortex’ if you will, that allows ideas to grow and be nurtured. I seem to lack that, creatively. In fact I seem to take a page from improv artists, and “yes, and…” me to the death. That’s where Queen Vicoria as a Final Fantasy-style summon came about. Just a mish mash goulash of thoughts. But I digress… The United States seems to only do the morally right th...

  In a trend that is more anecdotal than factual yet, politics are becoming a big reason for divorces lately. Axios did a report in this earlier this year and it would be interesting to see if this pans out. Fact of the matter is this, neither Roxanne or I can see each other married to someone who suddenly is pro-mass deportations, super vocal about abortion, spewing vaccination conspiracy theories or someone focused on people’s genitalia like the MAGA crowd. They’re just too weird these days. Makes you miss the war-hungry, homophobic, corrupt, religious zealots of yesteryear. The ones that could at least lie about their prejudice and motivations. And I resent MAGA even more for making Reagan and Bush look almost normal in comparison. Point is, have these conversations before taking the vows, people.  Also, Inside Out 2 made me get feelings that I hadn’t felt in a long time, and it’s crazy that a movie about a teenage girl can do that to a grown ass male.

Thanks to our pursuit of traveling, we have learned about a few impossibilities in this world. Like the impossibility of a Thai taxi running the meter, or of avoiding luggage grabbers in Venezuela, or of avoiding the sight of deep fried guinea pigs in Peru, or getting a cheap drink in Iceland. In Germany, we were absolutely unable to get uncarbonated water. We googled the German words for “natural”, “still” and “mineral”, hoping that these will lead us to limpid water containers. But no, none of those words guaranteed a gas-free experience.  How did gas win in Germany? It’s insane to us that one of the oldest products in this planet, H2O, is overworked like this. I believe there’s a lot to be learned about modern society by tracking down how Germany waged war against regular, old, ubiquitous water and won. For some reason Khaleesi, our cat, was fascinated by this drawing.  

Before any reader casts me into the fiery depths of a hell that's unlikely to exist, let it be known that I harbor no personal grudge against Buddhism. From the fragments I’ve gleaned, it appears to be a pragmatic religion, offering practical insights, such as the art of meditation. My persistent unease with religion lies in the belief that it can serve as a moral compass. History suggests otherwise. A significant reason for this is the nature of interpretation; humans often perceive teachings through a kaleidoscope of self-serving lenses. This is why one often encounters Christians who seem to overlook the essence of the words and actions attributed to Jesus. Another troubling notion is the belief that one requires ancient texts and clerical figures to discern right from wrong. This is a bit unsettling, because those who depend on scriptures penned 2000 years ago to realize that acts of murder, deceit, and theft are wrong; these are not the kind of people I wish to surround myself...

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...

I’ve always associated complaining with old people. One of my parents was a serial complainer and I always wanted to rebel against that. Sometimes you are weird because of what your parents model, sometimes you’re weird because of what you tried to break from. In my case, I obsessively avoid complaining. 'Oh, you messed up my blood draw? No worries I have plenty more where that came from'. It takes a lot for me to get angry at a company, a person or a thing. One ex-girlfriend found this infuriating, my lack of reaction was offensive to her. Yet, there are times… In my small city, for some reason, they’ve decided to repair many of our main roads in the year of our lord 2024. For most of the year, I was chill about it. The detours showed me parts of the city I’ve never seen, and I’m really never in that much of a hurry. But lately, it’s making me snap. Why does it have to be everything, everywhere all at once? Businesses are understandably upset. One such business even started ma...

Roxanne and I just came from a great vacation in the south of Germany. When someone comes from visiting a new country, one of the most tactless things they can do is to come up with broad generalizations about an entire group of people. So here we go! BROAD GENERALIZATIONS ABOUT THE GERMAN PEOPLE AND LANGUAGE The south German people weren’t warm. They weren’t cold either. They were perfectly neutral. But, when you mention their tattoos, pets or beer, they beam up! The south German people seem to have an above average inclination to have dogs. Dogs were everywhere, we saw a Chihuahua in a cold cave in Austria (30 minutes from Germany so it counts).  The word for cook (Koch) is troublesome. When I awkwardly tried to tell a male server “Compliments to your cook / Komplimente an den Koch ” my wife laughed hysterically. A phrase I learned early on was "Sehr Nett", which means "very nice". Halfway on the trip I realized that this made me sound like Borat. Subsequently...

Most times, Rox and I are on the same wavelength. No, not when it comes to the desired level of pulchritude and order; but for most other things. Social battery is one such example. We both get the low battery notification at roughly the same time. Perhaps more importantly, we seem to giggle at the same things; like sequential, synchronized post-dinner-walk farts or the Operatic crescendo of our rapidly increasing old-people noises. I have a Rad wife, not a Trad wife! The little I read about Buddhism focused on the transient property of things. Impermanence is something I have, I believe, a firm grasp on. The moment I adopt a pet, I’m fully aware of the deferred sorrow that comes with it. Nothing lasts, including love. I fully accept this self-evident truth, but I also feel like Rox and I are killing it on the brief blip we are existing together. By the way, if you weren’t expecting images of dead pets and sophomoric Buddhist interpretations of love, why are you reading a humor blog? ...

Many of you know that drawing is a source of mental health wellbeing. Almost six years ago, I started drawing and sharing my comics, and it was a way to process the many phases of adulthood. It was during that time that my gorgeous, caring, adventurous wife moved in with me. Before then, we both lived in our separate houses and we loved it. Then came cohabitation. Almost all of my initial comics were about  cohabitation . Then came Trump tearing through the fabric of the United States. Then a layoff , then COVID , becoming Chihuahua people and now just the typical middle agey “what’s it all for?” vibes. All through these times, besides my wife, the PlayStation, and the Chihuahuas, there’s been drawing. I’ve never had a creative hobby in my life, and here I am… drawing for 6 years.  So, this comic loops around and checks back in on my progress since I started drawing: is Eduardo becoming more domestic? The answer is Yes! This house is getting to be as clean and uncluttered a...

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...

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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