Let me get into the interesting details behind this week’s Dustinland comic.
See, I drew the first half based on my daily annoyances that are pretty well spelled out in the strip. But then, after it was all done and even uploaded, this morning I listened to an episode of This American Life, which I never do on my commute, because I never do the podcast thing, always opting for music instead. And this episode, it was about a French comedian trying to make it in America. At one point Jeff Garland is critiquing his set, and just goes off. “He’s a craftsman, but he’s not an artist because I don’t care about what he’s talking about. He doesn’t care! Talk about what you care about! That’s interesting!”
And I was inspired to go deeper with this strip. Because as you can see, I do care. It’s about the principle. Not just the bag, not just the minor inconvenience. Every time this happens, I think about all this stuff, all this human nature misery. It riles me up. That’s why I care. And now you know. Thanks, Ira Glass!
Posted in New York
Tagged commute, commuter train, commuting, hudson valley, irvington, metro north, MTA, new york, new york city, NYC, river towns, subway, tarrytown, train, trains, westchester
This week’s Dustinland comic was inspired by the NYC bombings. I pretty much say all I have to say about the subject in the strip. This is more of a place for people to discuss it. Aside from the 5,000 social media channels I engage on as well. But yes, these last 15 years or so sure do make you wish for the days when the worst thing on the news was the president getting a blowjob.
Posted in environment, politics, pop culture
Tagged 1990s, 90s, bombing, new york, new york city, nostalgia, NYC, philosophy, politics, terror, terrorism, terrorist
Man, as I said in this week’s Dustinland, I really thought the Mets had it this year. After a shitty first half they had such an amazing second half, ended on a bright note, then had a killer first two rounds of the postseason. Things were so magical — how did KC just stop us dead in our tracks?! I guess they had their own magic that beat ours. Kind of like a game of Magic The Gathering except not.
Man, losing all the time SUCKS. What a downer. I’m so tired of expecting to lose. I don’t know how Cubs fans deal with it. Or how Boston did. I guess that’s what made Boston’s first World Series in a zillion years so fulfilling. But I mean, I really don’t want to wait decades. I think since 1986 is more than enough. Especially in a town like NYC where there’s another team—one that wins every other year and spends twice what the Mets does, since they’re not bankrupt and we are. Damnit. I could go on all night but it’s too late. Stupid sports.
This week’s Dustinland comic was inspired by my buddy Russ. He’s an authority in vaping aka e-cigarettes. Basically the dude smoked for years and years and never was able to quit. Then e-cigs came along and boom, he’s done smoking. Sure, he still vapes all the time, but he feels great. Anyway, I recently heard that he’s supporting a lawsuit against the city claiming their soon to be enacted e cig ban is actually illegal, so I called him and asked what the deal was.
You can find out more about that from Russ’ podcast Click Bang! Me personally, I don’t smoke cigarettes. Never have. And I was so happy when they banned smoking from bars. But this… this just seems stupid. Here’s something that people are using to kick the habit, and we’re going to make it more difficult for them? Why? Well, that’s what the strip is about, so no need to get into it again here. But yeah. NYC. Come on. Bloomberg is out. Enough with the nanny state thing.
There’s a lot of the subway sweaty butt seat thing I talk about in this week’s comic going on right now in New York, but I must say, it is not a phenomenon exclusive to summer. You see it all year long. And sweat is not really the right word. When you hear “sweat” you think actually liquid that can drip and form puddles. Really though, it’s more like what happens when you breathe on a window and it fogs up. I guess it’s just asses breathing. Asses, thighs and backs, that is. Ass breath is something completely different.
Yup, I’m really going highbrow this week.
Man, freaking bros. You know, sometimes you have to appreciate their enthusiasm. But usually you just want to punch them in the face. For instance, I was recently at a very special concert. It was very hard to get tickets. They cost a lot. The band rarely ever plays venues of this tiny size. And yet somehow the place was full of bros…. talking (or shouting) over every song that wasn’t one of the band’s bigger hits, especially the quieter songs. It was so bad, the crowd was consistently having to SHHH them down, to no effect, and the massive bro-itude was even mentioned by multiple media sources in their reviews of the show.
I think my main problem with bros is their obliviousness to others. Or perhaps they aren’t oblivious, and even worse, are just plain rude. Hey, you want to go out, have a good time? That’s awesome. Hell, sometimes it’s better to be around a bunch of hard-partying happy bros than a crowd of grumpy, snarky, emotionless hipsters. But at least the hipsters tend to have decent taste and some respect for art. Of course I’m generalizing here but yeah, bros, just give it a rest once in a while. We can all hear what you’re saying, and we don’t care.