People are people
so why should it be?
notes from the
January 1, 2004
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne?
We've cruised around in tricked out Datsuns
Throwin' up gangsta signs;
We've made like bandits at the mall,
Since days of auld lang syne.
We done time in detentation, boy
Cuz we was out of line,
And everytime we'd bust on out
Since days of auld lang syne.
So here's a hand, my dear friend,
And give a hand o' thine;
We'll take a toke of kindness yet,
For days of auld lang syne.
I'm gonna dress you
up with my love
Laughter is the face orgasm. When you laugh, the private organs must go, "What
the heck was that? I thought we were in charge of fun!" It must freak
the ol' nads out. I imagine there's
a running competition between the sex drive and the sense of humor. A battle between
the funny bone and the boner. Which can
cause more pleasure? The ha ha or the oo la la? Comedy or hot dripping sweaty naughty good times?
Which begs the question: After you share a big hearty laugh with someone--the kind that makes you
convulse with nasal snort noises--do you
still respect each other in the morning? Do you avoid each other, then bump into them at the
water cooler and sheepishly go, "So. Things got weird, huh? I laughed. You laughed.
One thing led to another..." Ever look at someone and go,
Man, I'd sure love to get together
with that piece of funniness and laugh and laugh till milk shoots outta me.
That person will make milk come out my nose over and over and over again.
Ooh. Yeah. Tell me the one about the rabbi and the penguins, baby... Right there...
Yeah... Ah! Ah! AH HA HA HA HA HA!
Show me show me show me
how you do that trick
When I was a kid I occupied myself trying to invent the web-slinging wristband that Spider-Man
wore. Naturally this required one wrist watch, one plastic spoon, and several ounces of
magical webbing fluid that comes in convenient ready to use cartridges. That last one
would always stump me, effectively stalling my dreams of becoming Spider-Man.
Now that I'm older, wiser, and like, totally way more mature, I've come to realize
how foolish I was. I mean, before I go and invent the web-
slinging doohickey, I gotta go get bit by a radioactive spider first! Duh! See, I had
my priorities all wrong. Think of all the radioactive spiders that slipped under my
radar cuz I was too busy taking apart wrist watches. Imagine all those mutant arachnids
I coulda caught had I not been off making web juice out of Elmer's glue. Live and learn,
I suppose. So if
you ever see a guy wearing multiple wrist watches with plastic spoons jutting out of them,
holding a glowing spider in his hand, going, "Bite me!" it's probably
me--finally making my dreams come true.
What is the sound
of one hand clapping?
January 18, 2004
On people. Some people are hard to get. Others are easy. Some people like to be got
and stay got. Some people would rather do the getting and avoid getting got.
Some people get one person and stick to them forever.
Some people want to get as many as they can while the getting's good. Some people are very picky
about who to get and by whom to be got. Some are not. They just take what they can get.
Some people just don't get people. Some people read
books and attend seminars on how to get people.
Some people only get their own gender. Some people only get the opposite gender. Some
get both and are kee-razy sex rebels. Some people are not happy with what they got. So
they try and go get something else. Some are rendered gotten
and rebel against their getter by getting ungot and getting someone else to be their
own gotten which
really is just a way to get back at the person who got them in the first place.
Some people get tired of getting each other and
get away from it all. Some people think there's more to life than getting each other
and are hard at work trying to get whatever it is they're trying to get instead. And
some people have realized that people and things and basically everything in life is fundamentally ungettable so there's
no reason to try so hard at getting them. Get it?
For my next trick I will
turn this water into funk
January 25, 2004
On humanity. Sometimes I imagine humanity as one giant being made up of smaller
individual beings, like Voltron. And when the Forces of Evil start acting up, we all
band together to form the Mighty People-Tron! Europe would be the torso. Africa would be
the pelvis. The Middle East the heart. Asia would supply the gadgets and knickknacks.
Russia can be the hat. And America will form the ego! Yes. Impressive figure, this
Humanity-Bot. A shining gleaming champion of justice and liberty. Until, of course, you
realize there are no
forces of evil besides our own damn selves. So this majestic Humani-Tor is always at
odds with himself, in-fighting, bickering, hating on himself. A big ol' Robo-Hamlet,
holding up a skull, going, "What is this quintessence of dust? Man delights not me."
He's been to the moon. He split the atom. He's made cool stuff. And he's also
done some pretty crappy things too. The bad boy of Mother Nature, the one with Holy
Father issues. Maybe he'll learn to love himself someday. Maybe he'll tear down all the
walls and weapons he's built and get his groove back, you know?
Time not important.
Only life important.
Feb 1, 2004
If life is a movie most people would consider themselves the star of their own
feature. Guys might imagine they're living some action adventure epic. Chicks maybe are in
a rose-colored fantasy romance. And homosexuals are living la vida loca in a
fabulous musical. Still
others may take the indie approach and think of themselves as an anti-hero in a
coming of age flick. Or a retro badass in an exploitation B movie. Or the cable man
in a very steamy adult picture. Some people's lives are experimental student art films
that don't make any sense. Some are screwball comedies. Others resemble a documentary,
all serious and educational. A few lives achieve blockbuster status and are hailed
as a tribute to the human spirit. Some gain a small following and enjoy cult status.
And some never got off the ground due to insufficient funding. I don't know what my
life is but I do know that I'm constantly squabbling with the director over creative
control, throwing prima donna tantrums and pouting in my personal trailor when
things don't go my way.
As I walked along the
supposed golden path
Feb 8, 2004
More on life as a movie. Much of our lives is spent on marketing. Make-up,
exercise, dieting, clothes, hair, money, charm, attitude, the strut, the pose, the
Blue Steel look. We're like walking billboards advertising ourselves. A sneak peek
of upcoming attractions. Meanwhile our actual production is in disarray--we're over budget,
doing poorly at private test screenings and focus groups, creatively stagnant, morale
low. So we're endlessly tinkering, touching up,
editing, rewriting, tailoring ourselves to best suit a mass audience. There's like this studio
executive in our heads telling us to cut certain things out, make it "lighter," give it
a happy ending, and put some explosions in there too. Kids love explosions.
And the uncompromising artist within protests: "But that's not life!"
Thus the inner conflict of our movie life: To be a palatable crowd-pleaser catering to
or something true to life no matter what they say?
I'm sorry. Did I break
March 7, 2004
Some rumors circulating about Tatsuya Ishida's disappearance:
· After years of hedonistic excess and debauchery he donates all his belongings
to charity and decides to "walk the earth."
· Convicted on four counts of obstruction of justice, perjury, and general badness,
he is sentenced to 15 years in maximum security prison.
· After inadvertently exposing his right nipple on network television he is taken in by
federal authorities and beaten like Jesus.
· He finally succumbs to the Dark Side of the Force and slaughters a village of Sand People.
· Tibetan monks identify him as the 15th Dalai Lama and arrange
for his immediate evacuation.
· Friends and family conduct an intervention and send him to rehab, where
he battles his addiction to sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll. So far no progress has been
· Upon serving his requisite number of years as emissary on earth his people from
Planet Pimptastica come to take him home.
Have you ever
March 14, 2004
And now some more made up news:
· The Democratic and Republican Parties are co-opted by corporations and
subsequently renamed The Pepsi Party and The Coca-Cola Party. "Now I understand the difference
between the two sides," said one college freshman. Meanwhile, Ralph Nader announces his candidacy under the
· Bush discovers weapons of mass destruction in the U.S. "Pinch my tits!" shrieked
the commander in chief. "We're evil-doers!" After a hastily cancelled national emergency
Dick Cheney and Condoleezza Rice
wrestle the President to the ground and explain that "we're the good guys so it's okay."
· State to require a "screwing test" for those seeking a marriage license.
Couples will be evaluated in several key categories, including thrust per minute ratio, "orgasm faces,"
and screaming decibel.
· Arnold Schwarzennegger promises to "terminate Iraq." "I will governate them
and I will grope them and I will say 'Hasta la vista, camel babies!' I'm so excited my muscles are bulging with pah-wer."
Evil from the
the Eight Dimension!
March 21, 2004
On suffering. You gotta wonder about suffering. Like, why is it even here? Who let this crap
into the universe? Aren't there like, karmic bouncers patrolling the space-time continuum, making
sure a nuisance like suffering doesn't creep into existence? Where does this shit come from?
If I were designing the cosmos, I wouldn't make the stuff. I'd make only varying
degrees of happiness. So you'd have your standard issue Contentment, right, which you can upgrade
to Satisfaction, and later trade that in for the fully-loaded fuel-injected Happiness.
Along the way you can accessorize with stuff like Bliss,
Pleasure, Joy, Euphoria and Ecstacy. I'll even throw in
some real potent shit like Super-Orgasmo-Love'splosion that'll like, kill you and resurrect you at
the same time. Oh, my universe would rock. All Bliss, All The Time, baby. It'll be the
Amsterdam of existence. The Happiest Universe in the World. But then, if the world was like that
people would be jonesin' for Super-Orgasmo-Love'splosion all the time. I mean, Contentment
is nice and all, but it sort of sucks donkeyballs compared to the real good shit, ya know? So there'd
be all these joy junkies and cartels and gang wars and death and, well, suffering. Which brings us back
to square one: Who let this crap into the universe?
We're not gonna
take it anymore
March 28, 2004
New reality shows slated for the fall season:
· The Candidate. George W.
Bush and John Kerry spend a whole month together in a mansion filled with lobbyists. Who will get
in bed with whom? Don't miss the sizzling behind the scenes deal-making. Each
episode concludes with both candidates handing out long-stemmed roses to their favorite special
· The Apprentice of The Dark Side. The evil Emperor must choose among several
aspiring Sith Lords, all vying for the coveted job of "Darth Executive," in charge of overseeing
construction of the Deathstar. Each round eliminates a contestant with the
famous tagline "You're fired," and is then zapped with lightning and thrown off a ledge to his infernal doom.
· Aramaic Idol. The nation wide search for the next messiah. Come put your
healing powers to the test and go head to head with
other saviours and miracle workers for the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and
ever amen. Produced by Mel Gibson.
· CNN Cribs: News Anchor Edition. Paula Zahn gives a sneak peek of her kickin' pad in
the O.C., all West Coast flava y'all cuz the bitch is mad bangin' wit the bling bling,
know what I'm saying? Holla!
I don't need no make-up,
I got real scars
July 26, 2004
· Slim Fast hires Dick Cheney as new spokesperson. "Go fuck yourself. Big time," reads new slogan.
· Weapons of mass destruction finally found in Iraq: Commercial airplanes.
· 9/11 Commission goes on book tour to promote its debut release. Critics pan the tome as
a "failure of imagination."
· KFC chickens riot, capture Colonel Sanders and threaten to behead him unless all their brothers and
sisters are liberated. Company officials blame the movie Chicken Run.
· Gay mafia leaves a decapitated head of a French poodle in George Bush's bed. Commander in chief
vows to smoke out the anal-doers and rid the world of gayness.
· John Ashcroft makes surprise visit to Urban League, introduces himself as
"J. Ash," performs hip hop version of his classic hit single
"Let the motherfuckin' eagle soar."
· Terror color chart changed to black and white to better reflect administration policy.
· Latest conspiracy theory contends that a shadowy cabal known as the Bulliminati is
covertly fattening up Americans with misleading nutrition information to usher in a Fat World Order.
what's that sound?
August 1, 2004
When I was little I thought adults had it made. They were much bigger,
first of all, and they had all this cash to buy all the candy and toys they wanted.
They went to these mysterious things called "jobs" and they could drive those car
machines. What's more, they seemed to know things I didn't know. Important things.
Meaningful things. Like how come sometimes they left the turn signal on after they'd already
made the turn? There must be some reason to leave that bink bink bink sound on. But
under what circumstances? And for how long?
And why does monetary currency come in 1s and 5s and 10s but not 3s or 7s?
This was especially crucial because I had big plans
to one day utilize this money stuff to purchase large amounts of candy and toys. What if I went up to
the cashier with a batch of Now-and-Laters and Transformers and he rang me up and it came out to $7.32?
look pretty foolish standing there without a 7 dollar bill. Or a 32 cent coin, for that
matter. Anyway, these and other questions filled my childhood, but I had faith that, once inducted to
the hallowed space of adulthood, the answers would come...
The answer, my friend,
is blowin' in the wind
August 8, 2004
· Slim Fast Veterans For Truth attack Whoopi Goldberg's dietary record. "She never really drank any of that stuff," says
the group's spokesperson. "She is unfit to lead fat people."
· Dick Cheney insists on link between Al Qaeda and Kevin Bacon. Al Qaeda was trained by the CIA which was
created by Harry Truman who dropped the bomb which was conceived by the Manhattan Project which was a movie
starring John Lithgow who was in Footloose with Kevin Bacon.
· Face Lift Veterans For Truth attack Teresa Heinz Kerry's cosmetic surgery record. "Sure she had Botox injections,"
snarled spokesperson Michael Jackson. "But did she have
full blown reconstructive facial surgery? I don't think so."
· George W. Bush unveils bold new "compassionate bombing" philosophy in his nomination speech. "I
believe in compassionate air strikes, a compassionate war, compassionate torture with a good heart."
· Martians invade Earth after receiving intelligence that Bush was plotting a Mission to Mars. Although they
find no Weapons of Mars Destruction they insist we had the capacity to build them.
Alien war profiteers reopen Alcatraz, rename it Abu Probe, proceed to "interrogate" humans.
Get up, Stand up,
Don't give up the fight
most Americans voted for John Kerry. I believe the exit polls that indicated a
massive Kerry landslide. I believe Americans saw through
the Republican propaganda machine and rejected
it. I believe the heart and core of America is guided by a deeper and better wisdom than what the cynics tell us.
All interpretations of this so-called Bush victory brand us as cowards, bigots, or idiots. I don't believe their
analysis. I don't believe their results. I don't believe that
gender panic and "moral values" caused Americans to vote for more war, more torture, more
I don't believe Americans turned their backs on the world. I don't believe Americans care only about American casualties.
I don't believe we have closed our hearts to the suffering of others. I believe Americans have a capacity for
compassion and generosity, for heroism and self-sacrifice that puts to shame all the warmongering and fearmongering of
the current regime. I believe the great legacy
of 9/11 was the immediate sense of community and connectedness and willingness to understand the rage against
America. I believe that
glimpse of universal brotherhood, not the march to war, was the true face of humanity.
This is my article of faith.
This is my faith-based opinion. This is my gut instinct.
contents © copyright 2006 by Tatsuya Ishida/Museworks. No
duplication, reproduction, or reprinting of Sinfest strips and/or
related characters allowed without written permission from the
we're not filthy slut whores