Bothered Man

When I was getting my slice of humble pie in the soup line earlier today, the music was Neil Young's Southern Man. It made me think of that confederate flag I put in that last Wally cartoon (Wally #9/Hotel Life) to help to illustrate my hillbilly marmot. What is a hillbilly? Isn't that someone who is totally out of touch with modern civilization? What better way could I illustrate that than with a flag that suggests he does not know that the Civil War ended with the South losing? I'm sure that most of you got the joke. And then the poisonous creeps who want to destroy me out of loyalty to the frauds who ripped me off want to try to turn me into David Duke with it. I guess I wouldn't suffer these problems if the broadcasters ever wanted to tell the truth about me in the last twenty years or so instead of letting rich stars steal my hit songs and popular blogs and then leaving me broke afterwards. And then they point to me as if it's my shame that they work for a crooked industry that steals from the poor to give to the rich. I posted a recital of my long poem the Mammals on YouTube today. You may view it here from its embedded location above the text of the Mammals (Complete) in my Storyblog. Please don't go to the people who steal my things for their side. They have no side. It's not their work. Let them talk about their own work - if they even have any work. I doubt it. They seem rather too lazy from all their thefts of my hard work to be capable of producing their own work. And I won't pity any suicides from among the ranks who were involved in this crime. The warped self pity of an unrepentant fraud could drive him to suicide as quickly as the misery of wrongful condemnation could have caused his victim to do the same. Lastly, I think that if that hotel owner's dollars were converted into brain cells and added to his brain, it would make a vast improvement. He's not out cruising in his limousine, stabbing me in the back with more lies about me to all the neighbors again, I hope, like he did when I was homeless in 2012 and Roxanna's noisy friends had all my new songs that I wrote in the Hotel Europe the year before. That's why I needed a charity to find me home; he destroyed my image too much to let me be able to find one for myself. We sure let rich creeps get away with a lot against poor artists here. And we let bullshitting actors rule us from the television while truth telling poets are pounced on and torn to pieces. I can't believe I'm still here to give hope to the faithful.
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Break Their Fingers

I've re-posted some old drawings from 2004 at this link: Illustrations from 2004, in order to stop people who don't know how to draw from claiming them as their work. These kind of people really help me to see why envy is one of the seven deadly sins. These untalented creeps have caused so much ruin to my life with their thefts of my work and the ugly lies they tell to support their ugly crimes. (I only call vicious jerks who steal my art and tell dirty lies about me untalented.) I wrote one of those stories a day for about two months back in March and April, 2004, and then I found myself watching an NBC show where they interviewed an 'author' who said that she shared a story a day and that each one was like a prayer. I certainly hope she was talking about her own stories when she said that. If you watched the Simpsons much in the last ten years, you might notice how they drained the amusing parts out of these stories for their show, such as when Lisa got into crosswords (Read my short story Who Programmed That One?). It certainly was a funny cartoon. I wonder who wrote all the humor for it besides myself. My guess is that a talented artist left behind a large volume of comedy scripts before he killed himself from Matt Groening's abuse. Glad I don't need his dirty show for a laugh anymore. Now I just make myself laugh when I need to. After I shared my short stories on my Blogger account in 2004, I erased them from my account and moved back to Vancouver to take a job in a recycling plant. Any time I posted a funny script on my Blogger account after that, such as 2005's Debbie Downer, it was immediately stolen by a show like Saturday Night Live, while I helplessly slaved away at my industrial job. Is the title of this too aggressive? Maybe you should have a look at my 2015 Evolver blog, in which I first started reconstructing old cartoons. I talked about this creep who burst into my home and let me think he was with the Georgia Straight while he told me to 'hurry up' on the printing I was doing for a new cartoon. I gave him the cartoon and he left without a word. Then I called the Vancouver Police about it and they didn't seem to think it was a serious problem. And after I shared this note in 2015, that son of a bitch said 'hello' to me on the street and managed to slip past me before I realized who he was. I think these kinds of dangerous criminals should have a strict restraining order on them if you're going to let them maraud around at large on the street instead of incarcerating them in an 'expensive' prison where they belong. Then maybe their neglected victims wouldn't end up fantasizing about splitting heads open with an ax when they're trying to sleep. Anyway, I've started another new Wally but I'm running out of rhymes for him. Looks like I will make it into the double digits with my posts of this character, at least.
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True Success

Imagine how stressful it was for me to cope with posting all this creative work in such rapid succession from my Telus home connection (with its connected email account david147@telus.net) back in 2007. I'd post a great new poem or script and see it immediately end up on a TV show with some star like Ellen or Jay Leno or Tina Fey claiming it as their work. No one would believe that I wrote it, which forced me to write another script or poem of similar quality to prove my ownership. This new work would, in turn, be stolen by the TV stars to uphold their dirty position against me. And this continued on until hundreds of my posts had been consumed by their stupid fraud by November 2007. They stole all my best posts while my original Blogger account was still online in 2007 and that damn evil president just sat back with folded arms and enjoyed the show. Then after I erased my Blogger account to try to stop the crime, their theft of my posts from work they had already downloaded and saved, or perhaps recovered from that infernal Wayback Machine, ran into the thousands, resulting in whole seasons of broadcast fraud from 2007 to 2010. The fame offered to me in 2007 and, apparently, again in 2011 was the kind that would please most people, who are not artists attached to their own creations and who would just want to impress the crowd with their performance. The deal, as I understand it now, was for me to go out on stage with only some of my songs and let those corrupt stars claim what they already stole. I'm sure I would have 'impressed the crowd' by sharing the stage with big bands like Nickleback and Coldplay, but I would have been unhappy with that arrangement. And I'm sure I would have impressed the crowd by appearing as a musical guest on Saturday Night Live, but they wanted that particular show to consist entirely of my own comedy scripts and poetry - with Tina Fey listed as the show's head writer in the credits. I would have been most unhappy with that arrangement. If I'm going to be a big star, I don't want a bunch of frauds running around with my hits, drawing my fans away from me with my own work. And there are other aspects to my copyright ownership which might even have brought me real physical discomfort by such an arrangement. So I'm probably much happier right now than I would have been if I would have played along with their plan, even though I'm far from feeling euphoric. Sure, stardom looks good from the outside. Seeing stars getting all that attention on TV may make you want to be in their place, but I have learned better. Stars who need to plagiarize and lie are basically unhappy with their lives. They are miserable losers. They can't find true happiness in their artificial star world. So instead of wanting to be a star like that, you should just simply want to be happy. Let's look at my own example. All these jerks who don't know how to create and were hailed as 'artists' with my music got more respect and love from the crowd than I did. Their happiness depends on other people admiring them. If I were like that, I would have hung myself ten years ago. My happiness depends strictly on having a clear conscience and a strong personal relationship with God. And I hope I never change. If I do end up becoming some kind of a broadcast star, I hope I never get as pathetically addicted to public acclaim as the monsters (see my Copyright Issues page) who needed to steal my good work to try to 'stay on top.' I hope someone shoots me in the head before I ever get like that. I do my best to persuade the crowd to see things my way, but I'm up against big billboards and buses and broadcasts that all want to contradict a fraud victim. I can't put my slogans on bus stops like the ones who wanted everyone to know that they're in the business of music for business. I can only write my retort here and hope that people come to read it: a business which profits from talent owes talent a fair share of its profits. Sound reasonable? More reasonable than they are, at least. I'm holding out nicely with the gum. I've only had four small 'puffs' in the last three days - so far. And with my earplugs I can hear my breathing and it sounds like my lungs are clearing up nicely. My earplugs may have saved me from cancer. We'll see.
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Traumatic Loss

Are you familiar with the effects of severe trauma? One of them is memory loss. I suffered that back in 2007 after all these thousands of pages of work appeared to fall into the hands of industry supported frauds. I was so troubled by thinking about my good work and how it might be used against me that I couldn't stand to think about it anymore and ended up forgetting the whole year all at once. It was like I woke up the next morning and I couldn't remember a thing. My memory loss bumped me all the way back to 1999 when I first shared my work on Blogger and has forced me to retrace every step of my life since then. So now its 2017 and my account is about the same as it looked at the end of 2007 - just before it was torn to pieces by those fraud stars on TV. When we suffer from trauma, we're not altogether responsible for our behavior; we're not ourselves. We lose sight of basic priorities like being careful with our money. I think the trauma of this crime added to the trauma of my friends and parents all dying on me in the last ten years has made it hard for me to stay on track with my savings. I'm so miserably depressed from this crime and all the constant lies that are told about me to support it that I am constantly looking for comfort either from a can of beer or a joint. While I don't spend a fortune on them, they do deplete my savings. Another problem has been the cost of my cigarette smoking. A smoker finds quitting smoking very stressful and the last thing I need right now is more stress. Nonetheless, I'm into my second day with nothing but gum in my mouth and I'm holding out. I just wanted to explain why I've been having problems saving my money. Does it sound reasonable? So my bank is the Bank of Montreal. I must commend them on their generous donation to the VPL, as it is presented for me here on the home page of the library's website. $150,000.00. Nice. And it was right after I checked my savings account to make sure I still had my forty dollars that I was saving for groceries and saw that it had been removed to penalize me with service charges. Forty dollars a month. That's what my trauma has been costing me at my bank every month. And I've had my account there for twenty-two years. So forty dollars a month times twenty-two years comes to well over ten thousand dollars of service charges on my account. So where did the bank get $150,000.00 to donate to the library? Maybe they got it from fifteen customers like myself who've had accounts with them for over twenty years. I'm staying with the BMO because it is the people bank. As banks go, it's one of the better ones, with respect to customer service. However, I think it is only fair to tell them that I am going to be quite rich one day - extremely rich. As it was put to me, I am going to be rich enough to have my own jet. This was told to me by a voice that has been one hundred percent accurate with everything else it said about my future up to now, so I believe it, even though it seems to defy all the signs around me at the moment. And when I'm rich, I'm sure my bank will want me to keep my money in their vault, but I will have the memory of how I've been treated over the last twenty-two years to remind me of their true disposition towards me.
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Money Deprives Us

My father used to love carpentry. He built our first home and our cottage with his own two hands. It was hard work but he loved it. But to support his family he had to get another job that he didn't like as much. Money deprived him of following his heart's calling. He needed to work for money instead of working at what he wanted to do. Just as my father liked carpentry, I like drawing and writing and playing and singing. For money I usually had to go and do something else. I had to take my time that I could have spent on my art and spend it on something else less fulfilling. Money deprived me of pursuing my heart's calling. Instead, money motivated a bunch of vicious jerks to pounce on my work and seize it illegally for themselves. And everyone who ripped me off was rewarded handsomely with money. And everyone who supported the crime, either actively or passively, was rewarded with money. I think the world would be a far better place to live if people did things because they wanted to do them, rather than for money. I'm sure sure that music and construction, at least, would vastly improve. And I told the world that I do my art for art's sake in 2007. Did anyone read it but a bunch of fake stars who needed material to make themselves look more authentic in front of their mentally manipulated crowd? That's them: 'We need to steal this guy's music because he's really writing it for music's sake and not to be a star and we need them to trust us like that when all we care about is being stars!' And here are the commercial broadcasters: 'Steal from David because he writes music from his heart. Steal from David because he only shares his most inspired comedy. And if you steal from David, we'll tell everyone you're brilliant and talented and you can take all that love we send you and use it to make David kill himself before you get into trouble for stealing his things.' I think I shared a similar video about coloring my cartoon (Color My Girl) back in 2007. How much do you want to bet that some cartoon thief stole the video and changed the soundtrack to his own voice to support his thefts of my work? If so, I want that filthy video removed. I want all these cartoon jerks rounded up and damn well locked up and punished. I have enough problems with overgrown juvenile delinquents like Nickleback and Blue Rodeo wrecking every summer I spend here. I want serious action now to control these lying fucks. Why can't they keep them in jail? Oh, right, because it costs too much money! Too bad we can't put money in jail. That seems to be where it belongs. Did I hear something about advertisers who pulled out of an event the other day? What event was that? Was it an event that has been so spoiled by crime that advertisers are afraid to sponsor it? These know-it-all's in broadcasting wouldn't have seen that coming ten years ago when they embarked on their evil campaign with my life-work.
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Cool Fool

Did I tell you about that customer in the beer store a couple days ago who was talking to the cashier about Nickleback while I was in the store? Then he said something about how 'he's probably in training', which looked like it was intended for me. I didn't hear everything he said but the only thing anyone should be saying about Nickleback is that they are an untalented band of nasty jerks who stole at least three of my most rocking songs, which were already hits on the web in my name when the band stole them. Like all the fake stars who stole my work, they only know how to copy what I share. But I didn't share everything with the songs I've posted. Fool's Paradise has a much longer ending than the shared version, at least ten verses. The ending of that song should double its length when I finally record it in a studio for a big label. They'd never get a dull witted band like Nickleback to improve my music like that. And there is supposed to be an instrumental follow up for Nonchalant. I've been listening to it in my brain for most of the last two months and I never grow tired of it. I'm glad I don't depend on the radio for my musical pleasure anymore because I can't trust the radio to tell me the most basic truth about who writes my songs and who doesn't. How did you like the way that ass sang my Fool's Paradise? He's not much of a singer, is he? He doesn't open up his mouth like I do and blast out the music from his heart. He just mumbles it all - as if he's too cool to show any emotion when he's on the stage. He's a mumbling fool with little or no talent who never deserved a single good thing that he ever got in his life - least of all, the music he stole from my YouTube account. He's an unintelligent, untalented ass who thinks he's cool because he he's too dumb to examine himself effectively. And I'm quite sure he was incarcerated for stealing Fool Paradise when I rewrote the song in 2014 and that the media covered it up so they could use him and his bonehead band against me, right up to the present. I hope that before I die I will have earned the privilege of humiliating bands like this from the same TV and radio that they used for their fraud. Maybe then people will trust their TV's and radios like they did when my music and comedy were being broadcast so widely and so profitably. But I don't want to take credit for the child's temper tantrum that they tried to pass off as music on the radio last year, that awful hate anthem I heard on the radio here. Nickleback obviously came up with that noise on their own. Too bad they couldn't have done that ten years ago instead of stealing my songs, but they know that my songs are much, much better than their songs. How long does it take to put a monstrous fraud like this in a place where he can't harm his victim anymore? Who's responsible for letting this criminal offender take another shot at his victim following his incarceration? Most of you seem to like the work I've been sharing. Most of you trust me and like my work. I share my work simply because I am an artist and it is my nature to create and share work. I've been doing it all my life. And I think this is extremely rare. I don't think you're going to find another artist like me for a long time after I'm gone. People want to be stars more than anything, so they could not last long in a situation like mine. Their motivation hinges too much on hope of success in show business. But I will continue to produce work all the way to my grave whether the business ever wants to pay me for it or not. Under these conditions, I expect my work to turn out very well compared with the work of others who have fame and money foremost on their minds. I bought a big box of nicotine gum before I ran out of money. We'll see if it keeps me from going crazy with no cigarettes.
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Have a Great Weekend

I've posted my latest cartoon after working on it for about three days. You may view it at this link: Wally the Street Squirrel, Episode 9. I am tired and ready for the weekend - even though I didn't get paid for my work. But rich stars all got paid for it and that's all anyone seems to care about from what I see. I want all of my old cartoons removed from the web and the ones who posted them locked up and punished hard. I wrote these to entertain people and these monsters on TV have all but ruined my life with them. Does the hotel owner recall my first post of this most recent cartoon? Funny, I could swear he was standing right next to me in my apartment, discussing my drawings with me. Maybe he knows who stole my drawing pad filled with cartoons back then. He's not altogether law abiding, that guy, is he? By the way, I do not criticize the people of Vancouver but the stinking corruption that enabled so much crime to be committed with my pure, wholesome art. There were obviously some rotten apples in positions of responsibility. Yes, when TV stars all gang up on you to wreck your life, it just goes on and on until you die, I imagine. Have a great weekend. I hope you got paid enough money for your job. Me, I'm headed back to the soup lines for another couple weeks. Maybe one of those bum bands here who steal my hit songs will cruise by me in their limousine to gloat.
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