Teamwork! Hank Williams (the pig) broke out of his pen, then broke through the gate dividing the two sides of the barn. Jackson (a goat) then climbed on the shelf where the feed buckets are and knocked them on the ground. Seeing this, all the goats and sheep came into the pig side of the barn to feast with Hank on the spilled feed, and broke into the straw and hay bales. Never a dull moment.
Kids are uploading their adolescence in real-time, and the Internet refuses to forget. Will it change the way we live as adults?
One of the most common reasons adults give for not wanting to get a tattoo is that they might be horrified, later, by what they decided when they were young. When you’re 60, do you really want to be reminded of what you thought was cool when you were 19? To them, permanently committing to an image or idea will almost certainly haunt you when you’re older. To me, it’s that commitment to the present that makes tattoos so appealing — making decisions based on what you might regret when you’re 60 seems like a weird way to live your life. But I’m supposed to be embarrassed that I loved something so hard I got it pressed into my skin forever, especially if my feelings change with time.
When I look at my middle school students post photos and videos of themselves online, I have the instinctual reaction of adult horror at the evidence they are creating. And I’m not alone: There is a great deal of anxiety and panic about young people and the Internet– how their social media accounts will haunt their college applications, their job searches, their presidential campaigns. According to the Pew Research Center report “Teens, Social Media and Privacy,” data from 2012 showed that 95 percent of young people age 12-17 use the Internet, with 81 percent of those using social media. About three in four use it daily. The public sphere created by the Internet is ubiquitous, inescapable, normalized. Maybe it’s okay that they’re posting such ridiculous photos of themselves because there will be no one to run for president who hasn’t. But it’s not just college bros playing beer pong who need to clean up their Facebook when they graduate. We’re years beyond that. As it stands now, when the 13-year-olds I teach grow into adulthood, much of their lives will be immortalized on the Internet — their cute kid pictures, their self-made Youtube videos, their proudly documented performances and speeches. Their entire adolescence will be on the record.
One of the greatest difficulties between young people and adult people, of course, is that adult people have a hard time remembering exactly what it’s like to be young. Spending time with my partner’s mother recently, we found an essay she wrote when she was 15 or 16 — we laughed at the bravado of her prose, but were also moved by her passion and idealism. Typed on a typewriter, on yellowed paper, unseen for decades, it was the most teenage thing ever. She was amazed at revisiting her poetic younger self. And even though much less time has passed for me, I’m sure I would be unsettled to re-read something that I wrote in high school. It would be like emotional time travel.
"I could kill you right now. I’m thinking you might want to give me reason to let you live." Harlow glared down at her victim, her 10mm submachine gun pressed hard against their temple. As she finished her sentence, a static sound could be heard from her worn-out flat jacket. "Say a word," Harlow lowered her voice as she pulled a two-way radio from one of the pockets on the jacket, "and I will kill you. Blink twice if you understand.”
It can be really frustrating working on the comics sometimes.
There’s a large, vocal audience declaring how much they want to see more diversity in comics and more LGBTQ characters. I was one of them, even. And it’s why I made The Pride.
However, when an indie project comes out with just that, a lot of this audience don’t actually buy the product they’d been calling out for: because it’s not from Marvel or DC.
Fact is though, if an audience doesn’t prove a desire and market for such a product, they won’t be willing to take a risk on creating one of their own.
Obviously, I’m small press. I self-publish. I pay to get the comics made out of my own pocket. At the moment, there’s still around £5000 to pay artists for work and get the rest of the series printed when it comes to it. This isn’t even taking into account the cost of postage etc…it’s hard work, and takes up a lot of my time and money.
But it’s a labor of love, so I keep working at it. I wouldn’t change that for the world. But I do wish that I was able to pay the artists faster and could afford printing easier.
The Pride has 841 Likes on Facebook. If all of them bought just one copy of The Pride digital issues (at just £1.50), any issue, that would raise a massive chunk needed towards paying off the remaining artists! It would literally fund itself. I wouldn’t make any money myself, but I don’t care about that. This project is as much about building my profile and name as a writer than it is about getting rich…I will never get rich off The Pride, but I love doing it.
Likes are all well and good, honestly they are great and a massive help in their own right, but it doesn’t help me actually make the comics. And it’s frustrating to see this market, this audience, saying they want a product and then just…not.
Just felt like sharing that is all. In case anyone is considering making comics of their own. Obviously, I don’t want to scare anyone off: you wanna make comics, make comics. But be prepared for hard times and struggles, but if you work hard it could well all be worth it in the end.
“Darren Criss has a goofy sense of humour that catches you off guard, upon picking up the phone the actor chirps, “You’ve got Darren.” Then, “Wait, that sounds like you’ve contracted some form of vicious disease, right?” It’s hard to argue with someone as forward and articulate as Criss. Actor, singer, songwriter, composer and long-running television star are all notches in the California native’s theatrical belt.”