this is easily the most fucked up thing i've ever drawn.
because i'm looking at maddy as she's all like, "ooh! i'm spooky and kooky! *imitates the knights who say 'ni' for some goddamn reason*"
the other side of it i was a little more... reticent to show because. well. look at it.
i know for a fact that cross-burning is associated with the k.k.k. and racism—it actually wasn't always like that, though: scottish clans, especially those descended from the vikings up in the Hebrides and the shetlands, where a good chunk of my heritage comes from, always used burning crosses as a declaration of war against invaders.
and then, you know, white supremacist groups had to go and ruin it for everyone because they’re like that.
so i left christine pristine and instead, i let a bunch of white men run the other way holding torches, much like in madonna's video for "like a prayer".
what began life as me venting onto paper how much i cannot fucking stand that fucking hag maddy, how much she reminds me of vicky cornell (another old hag i can't stand, to the point i want to strangle her) and how much i wish alex would break up with her because mark my fucking words, she's going to kill him in some way, either by making him deathly sick or some other way (jesus christ, have you guys seen him lately? he's shed a bunch of weight and he looks pale, too; i'm just thinking to how chubby and healthy he looked a few years back, so figure i'm already beginning to grieve him).
all my anger against these piece of shit pathetic excuses for women, these assholes, these cunts, these bullies... morphed into law and order-levels of layered commentary on institutional racism, sexism, and scapegoating.
after all, my very first cartoons were political cartoons, discussing antisemitism and holocaust denial.
mad something-or-other and jean jacket ridiculed and humiliated me, and things i hold near and dear to me (sanitation, working with your hands and being safe in that type of environment because it had been reamed into my head literally since i was a child) all because i admitted to having a crush on alex—so put my sexuality in there, too. yeah, you know i’m already wounded and horribly insecure in that department so they went right for it.
well, now you're going to burn. but it won't be my fault, though.
it won't be christine's fault, and it definitely won't be hannah's fault because all she wants is maddy’s blood. show you how you like it for fucking with the wrong mechanic, the wrong kinesiologist, the wrong electrical engineer.
remember, maddy: you might know how to plan a city but i’m putting the copper wire in and i’m telling you that your designs are complete shit. i know which way your joints (don't) bend. mark my words: alex wakes up dead tomorrow, you will be the first person i'm pointing the finger at. but, i just know for a fact, just knowing how histrionic and militant and belligerent and egotistical and manipulative and shortsighted and out of touch she is, she’s gonna be pointing the finger at me, the supposed “crazy little girl” even though i feel like the only music fan anymore who *doesn’t* have a sense of entitlement.
yeah, blame the girl thousands of miles away for supposedly pushing him over the edge even though i wasn’t the one throwing him into situations where he can contract fucking rabies—and cats can get sick, too, as we can pass pathogens onto them. but maddy is apparently way too stupid to understand any of that.
she’s also too stupid to understand that making yourself much more submissive towards men is infantilizing and it makes you and your colleagues seem incompetent, thereby ironically setting feminism back another 50 years.
if this is my last post on here, so be it. know that i went out standing for what i believe in.
after all, to quote madonna herself: "artists are here to disturb the peace."
