THUMBNAIL THURSDAY DOESN’T MISS THE WANKERS

Ten years of working in arts administration, and oh gods, how many of these types did I come across.

Pro tip: if you dress like you think an artist dresses, talk like you think an artist talks, and patronise like you think an artist patronises, you still ain’t an artist. And if your job is to distribute money to artists, and you earn more from it than they do, then go fuck yourself. (Looking at you, pretty much the entirety of the Australian arts funding structure).

“Artist? Oh darling, where’s the money in that? I’m in arts funding.”

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY WOULD PROBABLY MATE WITH A DALEK, JUST SAYING.

Look, I love archaeology and I love paleontology just as much as the next guy… provided the next guy is actually and archaeologist, or paleontologist, or eight year old boy. But we can all agree that a whole lot of the art involves creating a narrative, and that involves what can best be scientifically termed as, well, you know…… guesswork.

Still beats being a teacher, though.

“We’ve yet to establish the reason for this long, quite flimsy horn, but we assume it was important for display during mating season.”

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY HAS A STUNNING WORK ETHIC

Okay, I remember exactly the scenario behind this one. Way back in the day, I worked for the Commonwealth Employment Service — the Government’s job search provider, before they privatised it and sent the whole system to utter shit. I was banished to a small job centre in Armadale, at the unpopular end of one of the train lines, to sit on the front counter and hopefully die as quietly as possible without making any sort of fuss.

Which I did. Online comics for 8 hours a day, spoiled only by the fewer than half a dozen poor jobless who hadn’t yet worked out that they’d get much better service, and many more jobs, if they went a stop or two up the line.

Nobody cared. Nobody noticed. And nobody in that particular office was under any illusion that they weren’t just marking time until the next thing came along. Which it duly did: the destruction of the CES, and reassignment to the absolute hellish landscape of the Child Support Agency, from which I never really recovered. But 8 hours a day of webcomics was pretty damn good 😉

Oh, and for those of you aged under thirty. That’s a computer monitor. That’s what shape they used to be. More or less.

“Damn. I always run out of comics before I run out of day.”

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY SAYS POACH THE POACHERS. AND MY EGGS.

There’s a very simple solution to stopping big game hunters, you know.

Put a bounty on them.

Money for villagers who might otherwise be tempted by fees to act as guides, limiting access to local knowledge and preserving the natural heritage, skills, and financial independence of the indigenous population. Plus, how many smug white dentist’s heads from middle America mounted on hotel walls do you think it would take before the whole industry just withered away and died?

Exactly.

You’re welcome.

“If I’d known it was harmless, I’d have killed it myself.”

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY PEGS DEATH ON SPECIAL OCCASIONS

One of those inviolate rules of comedy: death is funny, dying is pain.

Death is doubly funny when you anthropomorphise it and give it a range of normal human habits. Like marrying, and dinking cocktails. To whit: ta-daaaaaaa.

“You’d think that, but he’s actually quite a warm and gentle lover.”

Bonus points for anyone willing to share what they actually do think about Death’s performance as a sexual partner……

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY SAYS THE REPORTS OF MY DEMISE ARE GREATLY… MODERATELY… POSSIBLY… EXAGGERATED. MAYBE.

Yeah, so 2021 was a pretty bleh year in all the ways, including blogging at this here blog. I’m going to try to make 2022 a more active, proactive, and positive year in as many ways as I can, including getting behind the keyboard– that includes both writing and blogging.

Popular wisdom among the teaching fraternity is that the first two to three years are the toughest, because you’re still learning all the practical habits of the trade while having to sort through the reams of available resources to find the ones that work for your teaching style. I’ve done my three years. Hopefully its true. Either way, I need more than just that particular way of meeting rent to give my life some joy and fulfillment. When in doubt, go back to first principles, and first principles say: I’m an author. I’m an artist. I’m a rock and roll tyrannosaurus sex god from the planet Yeeha. Let’s start with those simple truths and see where I can go from there.

To whit, the first thumbnail of the final year of Thumbnail Thursday. How prophetic, how timely, how okay, yeah, for once I chose this one instead of letting the random number generator do the job. Sue me.

Here’s to a better 2022, everyone, no matter where you are.

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY WISHES YOU A BIG, FAT STOCKING RIGHT UP YOUR CHIMNEY

if my maths is correct — and if it isn’t, I’ll just draw another one when the time is right — I don’t have quite enough thumbnails left to run this feature through to next Christmas. After 200+ thumbnails covering the extent of my occasionally semi-serious, several-times-aborted, never-good-enough-to-really-consider-it attempts at fashioning something in the cartooning realm, I’m going to run out of thumbnails sometime in the coming year, and that will be that. Thanks for reading, and all that.

However, I still have four Christmas-themed cartoons left on my list, so rather than do anything clever with them, I’m just going to shove them all up here at once and wish you, from the point of view of this feature anyway, a final merry Christmas all at once.

May your stocking be full and your egg particularly noggy.

Continue reading “THUMBNAIL THURSDAY WISHES YOU A BIG, FAT STOCKING RIGHT UP YOUR CHIMNEY”

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY BIDS GOODBYE TO ITS STUDENTS

The random number generator has absolutely nailed it again. Today, on the last day of the school year, when any number of my senior school students are out there, dressed in itchy shirts, trying not to scratch where the razor has taken the heads off the pimples on their necks (okay, my year twelves left at the end of last term, and my elevens four weeks ago, but you know what I mean!) it throws up this delightful little reminder of just how stupid and irritating job interviews can be. (Smiles at the memory of asking the last interviewer who asked me this one, “How long have you been in the position?”. I didn’t get the job…).

Five years. Way to know nothing about the employment market for the last twenty years, dude.

“Where do I see myself in five years? What is that, some kind of sick joke?”

THUMBNAIL THURSDAY GETS ALL META UP ITS OWN ARSE

I remember exactly when I drew this. It would be to the surprise of nobody to learn that it was when I was working for the Department of Staff Bullying at the City or Rockingham, and that I was at a management meeting regards some art and culture stuff I should have been left alone to do but, well… we all know how it ended. So, a little double-meta going on, here: a comment on some of those community artist types* that I worked with, and a pretty decent dollop of self-knowledge about mine own abilities in any artistic direction. Except for the expression on the dog’s face.

For some reason I’m always satisfied with the expressions I manage to get on dog’s faces…

(*There are two types of community artist types: those who love art, practice art, develop art, and whether they pursue it as a hobby or something more, respect and love the process. And those who think wearing dungarees and tying things into their hair means they’ve done all the hard work. Guess which type ended up running the arts groups I was dealing with at the time…)

“I just paint what I see.”