ARCHIVES   |   RESISTANCE   |   FORUM   |   STORE   |   MUSEWORKS   |   CONTACT



2004


 ~
People are people
so why should it be?

~

notes from the resistance

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.

2004! Unhh!

-T.


~
I'm gonna dress you
up with my love

~
01/04/04
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!
-T.
~
Show me show me show me
how you do that trick

~
01/11/04
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.
-T.
~
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?
-T.
~
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?
-T.
~
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.
-T.
~
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 the mainstream... or something true to life no matter what they say?
-T.
~
I'm sorry. Did I break
your concentration?

~
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 reported.
· Upon serving his requisite number of years as emissary on earth his people from Planet Pimptastica come to take him home.

-T.
~
Have you ever
been experienced?

~
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 Shasta Party.
· 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."

-T.
~
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?
-T.
~
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 interest groups.
· 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!

-T.
~
I don't need no make-up,
I got real scars

~
July 26, 2004
More news:
· 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.

-T.
~
Stop, children,
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? I'd 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...
-T.
~
The answer, my friend,
is blowin' in the wind

~
August 8, 2004
Election news:
· 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.

-T.
~
Get up, Stand up,
Don't give up the fight

~
November, 2004
I believe 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 corporate power. 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.
-T.
All 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 author/publisher.

we're not filthy slut whores