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bobbydixon · 1 year
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franzen memes  wonder if that second book is ever gonna come out 
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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NO COPS
By Alisha Rae
My entry for the 2016 Comics Workbook Composition Competition. Last month I was arrested in Baton Rouge for protesting the killing of Alton Sterling by Baton Rouge Police. While utilizing the competition to challenge myself artistically, this comic has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done emotionally and psychologically. I set out on a journey to transform trauma, traveling away from my hot and hurting Louisiana, to heal and process and finish this comic. This is about my experience and I tell it so it is heard. So very many others don’t get that opportunity.
RIPower Alton Sterling
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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very honored to have my dear friend @mattmurphyoninstagram do my glitch portrait. included very important things: kanye & my dogs
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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* points to being a wild card at values
1, do not walk by a mistake
2. do not go to mcdonalds & get a salad -- burger down or shovel nuggets
3. do not go to mcdonalds
4. feel bad if you go to mcdonalds
5. should not watch old movies 
6. tell people what to do
7. give advice
8. do not listen to anyone
9. do not let anyone tell me what do do
10. stupid babies need the most attention
11. you just said do do
12. recognize primitive thinking
14. make your own luck
15. look at death 
16. be more active
17. be better
18. try harder
19. eat better
20. do not go to chik fil a
21. do not get the salad at chik fil a
22. do not yell at the dog
23. do not let your anger affect others
24. stop correcting effect & affect confusions around others
25. stop bragging
26. do not highlight 
27. make everyone else get a swear jar
28. say w/e you fucking want
29. stop saying hi to dogs before saying hi to your friends
30. no one thinks you are a special case
31. work harder
32. being smart is not attractive
33. stop eating meat
34. eat the eggs in your backyard
33. pay more attention to deail & stop spending money
34. stop buying clothes
35. wear nicer clothes
36. stop eating the eggs from the backyard
37. stop saying you are the clean boo
38. stop saying they are the dirty boo
39. stop cussing out the dog
40. eat the eggs
41. stop being fat
42. stop saying fat
43. be happy
44. stop keeping them from being happy
45. stop thinking you are alone when you are sick
46. stop being sick
47. be good
48. never die
49. new tv is good
50. my phone is for my convenience not yours 
51. answer when your mom calls
52. appreciate the value of affective labor
52. make sure everyone knows how you feel 
54. read it over but do not tell anyone you had to read it over
13. you cannot roll a thirteen in dice
thirteen can also mean work harder
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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Mrs. Henry Clews Standing in the Center of the Monster Statues: Dmitri Kessel Enjoy the Silence: Depeche Mode
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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Alex Barrett has been into comics — both reading them and drawing his own — since around age four, so it’s no surprise that he’s well versed in them, getting inspiration from a slew artists whose work spans the past century. But even though he’s got a lot of comic heroes and influencers, his style is unique and bold. See for yourself in this interview where he talks about comic books and video games, punk music, and beer and pinball.
Keep reading
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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I asked three friends if they could eat a meal alone w/ no music or tv. My initial feedback hinted that I ask them to focus on a meal. Do i even focus on tv or music. Will I dine alone. 
The details: 
 -the holiday loved ones have departed & i am in a building alone for the first time in at least three weeks. the only solitary activities in that time are driving but I have not broken my rule to smoke in the car -- unlike me my car has remained smoke free since august
 -no sounds beyond ambient house sounds & three dogs whose basic act of having any metabolic activity creates tooting notes along the respiratory breathe beats -- the cat has located a hidden silence. okay tiny is off to bed & bort paces. he knows a meat smell means there is a chance. lil g barks on the couch whenever a shadow offends. it is windy & the ac is on. a sheet is in the washing machine because tiny peed on a corner of it after visitor dogs & people stayed in the spare bedroom. there is a small wooden gate separating me & them 
- i have been jagging a sandwich which is made up of sliced meats & cheeses. the sriracha mayo from new leaf as well as my favorite baby spinach & alvarado street bread. nutritional info:
2x slices of bread = 160cal / 2g dietary fiber / 3g prot
2x tbsb sriacha mayo = 180cal
handful of baby spinach = no nutritional info on package (fuckers)
2x winn dixie swiss cheese = 120cal / 5g prot
2oz plainville sliced chicken = 50cal / 10g prot
This is the lameduck week between chritmas & new years & it feels like I can do anything since nothing bad has ever happened between chritmas & new years. This is a week of criminal purgatory. I read enough of the study that processed hams & red meat cause cancer to let my lack of details promote more healthy choices. The spicy mayo cannot help but the spinach has a strong healthy offset. I want to punish my body w/ a caloric artillery but my arteries are feeling sensitive & I lean in to it. mike left a few hours before h this morning once told me the saddest meal would be a double meat & double cheese pizza for one. my best shot at sad was hooters to go. Maybe eating meat makes us mean. Seems like one can easily locate a genetic trauma to meat on either end of the captive bolt. all of this i have recorded before i took one bite of the sandwich. Okay let us identify ways I smokescreen & eat:
-cannot eat w/out something to read 
-sit down w/ plate in lap & find something on tv worth watching 
-find a video on my phone while food is in microwave
-decide which ebook to read after I order & wait for the food 
-when the food comes is people watching sufficient 
-does it look sad to bring a book when dining alone 
-when eating alone can do i take a higher caloric impact & deep lipid bongload w/out making a sound -- do meat sweats make a sound
-is take out from hooters a sad thing to eat
-comics while eating never 
 -no politics while eating alone 
 -we all dine alone 
 -there is no flavor recall -- blinked out while eating
[note to reader. in drafting this before i tried to eat in quiet i was trying to find the lydia davis piece in harpers about how she indulges solitary eating w/ a stanky fish. as if the noisome company of her plate will also act as dining partner. but i could not find the piece in any of the harpers we have at the house & could not find it in the archives. i thought maybe i had confused diane williams for lydia davis -- again -- & searched once agaiinto fruitless returns. seems like i cannot even think & draft about eating alone w/out fidgeting in the form of info seeking behavior. it was not in harpers it was in tin house. the issue i tossed before i moved in w/ my wife. tin house has no online archive so i had to go buy the issue online again for a five hundred word lydia davis piece -- shipping guaranteed by mid january. follow up piece forthcoming]
I started the sandwich & the most prominent sound was bart pacing in the kitchen knowing we drop mercy grumbs. this is a dog who will eat a lemon. i have to admit this took me almost a hour to prepare for. ways i prepared for the quiet:
unloaded dishwasher
loaded dishwasher
put blanket in washing machine (see tiny peep above)
i cleaned out the fridge & rearranged things
the dogs get twitchy w/ nothing above the ambient house sounds. lil girl barked halfway through the sandwich but i remained seated & kept on eating until the thought occurred to me that i am sitting & eating a sandwich & looking straight ahead. i felt like a real sicko. felt like this is something a murderer would do. maybe tv makes me less of a sicko. i had already looked at my phone twice & this was taking forever. it took around ten minutes for the sandwich to be eaten & i have no idea how cheap those minutes could be. 
i still have some spicy mayor heating the side of my lip. i am going to turn on the tv. i feel destroyed & indestructible. the pee blanket just dinged in the other room. 
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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Comfort in Conspiracy
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which came first: fear of the dark or fear of abandonment
when you are little & cry for mom is this a command to bring back the light or for company -- also is the urge to holler bundled with a juice request. 
is god as concept historically correlative to primal longings for a night light or blanky which i still have. is it the grass is always greener on the other side or that the sun shines brighter elsewhere. maybe space is also darker on the other side. i have heard there are also rivers of mercury out there. 
one of the best fictions is that we are not alone. the fiction of relationships is at best a pure act of faith. 
if i tell you i thought i saw a ufo when i was in middle school would i be correct. one function of sharing conspiracy fears is to confirm acceptance both for ourselves & for others. if i told you i really believed it at the time -- even to my own peril re therapists -- what would you walk away w/. would i be walking away w/ you. 
our conspiracy fear affirm that we are not alone in our panic. a panic of one has a colder edge & alarms others. a panic in swarm pulses a warm shiver and can shield us from outsiders. may you never shudder alone. 
at work i wear a red plaid shirt that passes for dressy. dress for the job you want. i want to be a tornado fire jack who writes grisly forestry novels during downtime. 
if my fantasies of solitude seem cool to the touch maybe we should consider that sometimes nothing is ever good enough which is easily unfair & inconvenient. if it is seven dog years to every human year then how many human years is it to one tree year. 
just because i loved the oc does not mean i threw in w/ one tree hill. i have boundaries & i am never sure which side we stand on. 
have you ever shouted that you are okay even though no one was asking. 
i always had enough faith in humanity to think we were interesting enough to explore or discover. at the very least a mercy probe. 
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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bobbydixon · 8 years
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Seven Reasons You Should Be Reading Spoilers Right Now
1. Finite time w/ ever expanding opportunities & pursuits readily available:
[ titanic dies at the end
babe dies in the end
american beauty dies in the end
tom hanks dies in the end
matt damon will never die
jon snow
denise taragon dies at the end
you die in the end]
Someone was shot in the head last night at the mexican restaurant by my house
2. You are with your favorite pet and they are feeling cuddly since the temperature has dropped. They are getting old. You are missing years of pleasure every time you leave for work. When you leave they wait for you. They look for you. Do you see how excited they are when you return. What is the fucking matter. Just please come back. 
3. Anything good cannot be spoiled. If it can spoil it already incubates the traits of rot. 
4.  Spoilers are commodity in jail. Hoard those spoilers and become the mayor of jail. Use jail time to exercise & read. 
You can switch out hospital for jail too w/out the exercise. 
5.
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6. Glen is going to get killed by negan on the walking dead. You are welcome. You have your life back. 
7. This quote is attributed to Pascal: 
All of humanity's problems stem from mans inability to sit quietly in a room alone.
Another translation of the same line: 
I have discovered that all the unhappiness of men arises from one single fact that they cannot stay quietly in their own chamber. 
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bobbydixon · 11 years
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In October 1908, Joseph Pulitzer’s New York World  sent one of its Russian correspondents to see Leo Tolstoy at his home, Yasnaya Polyana. The correspondent was to commission Tolstoy to write an article about Abraham Lincoln, which would be published on Lincon’s centennial the following February. Citing his health—he would be dead in a little over two years—Tolstoy declined the World’s offer. Instead, he told this story,
If one would know the greatness of Lincoln one should listen to the stories which are told about him in other parts of the world. I have been in wild places, where one hears the name of America uttered with such mystery as if it were some heaven or hell. I have heard various tribes of barbarians discussing the New World, but I heard this only in connection with the name of Lincoln. Lincoln as the wonderful hero of America is known by the most primitive nations of Asia. This may be illustrated through the following incident: “Once while travelling in the Caucasus I happened to be the guest of a Caucasian chief of the Circassians, who, living far away from civilized life in the mountains, had but a fragmentary and childish comprehension of the world and its history. The fingers of civilization had never reached him nor his tribe, and all life beyond his native valleys was a dark mystery. Being a Muslim he was naturally opposed to all ideas of progress and education.
I was received with the usual Oriental hospitality and after our meal was asked by my host to tell him something of my life. Yielding to his request I began to tell him of my profession, of the development of our industries and inventions and of the schools. He listened to everything with indifference, but when I began to tell about the great statesmen and the great generals of the world he seemed at once to become very much interested.
‘Wait a moment,’ he interrupted, after I had talked a few minutes. ‘I want all my neighbors and my sons to listen to you. I will call them immediately.’
He soon returned with a score of wild looking riders and asked me politely to continue. It was indeed a solemn moment when those sons of the wilderness sat around me on the floor and gazed at me as if hungering for knowledge. I spoke at first of our Czars and of their victories; then I spoke of the foreign rulers and of some of the greatest military leaders. My talk seemed to impress them deeply. The story of Napoleon was so interesting to them that I had to tell them every detail, as, for instance, how his hands looked, how tall he was, who made his guns and pistols and the color of his horse. It was very difficult to satisfy them and to meet their point of view, but I did my best. When I declared that I had finished my talk, my host, a gray- bearded, tall rider, rose, lifted his hand and said very gravely:
‘But you have not told us a syllable about the greatest general and greatest ruler of the world. We want to know something about him. He was a hero. He spoke with a voice of thunder; he laughed like the sunrise and his deeds were strong as the rock and as sweet as the fragrance of roses. The angels appeared to his mother and predicted that the son whom she would conceive would become the greatest the stars had ever seen. He was so great that he even forgave the crimes of his greatest enemies and shook brotherly hands with those who had plotted against his life. His name was Lincoln and the country in which he lived is called America, which is so far away that if a youth should journey to reach it he would be an old man when he arrived. Tell us of that man.’
‘Tell us, please, and we will present you with the best horse of our stock,’ shouted the others.
I looked at them and saw their faces all aglow, while their eyes were burning. I saw that those rude barbarians were really interested in a man whose name and deeds had already become a legend. I told them of Lincoln and his wisdom, of his home life and youth. They asked me ten questions to one which I was able to answer. They wanted to know all about his habits, his influence upon the people and his physical strength. But they were very astonished to hear that Lincoln made a sorry figure on a horse and that he lived such a simple life.
‘Tell us why he was killed,’ one of them said.
I had to tell everything. After all my knowledge of Lincoln was exhausted they seemed to be satisfied. I can hardly forget the great enthusiasm which they expressed in their wild thanks and desire to get a picture of the great American hero. I said that I probably could secure one from my friend in the nearest town, and this seemed to give them great pleasure.
The next morning when I left the chief a wonderful Arabian horse was brought me as a present for my marvelous story, and our farewell was very impressive.
One of the riders agreed to accompany me to the town and get the promised picture, which I was now bound to secure at any price. I was successful in getting a large photograph from my friend, and I handed it to the man with my greetings to his associates. It was interesting to witness the gravity of his face and the trembling of his hands when he received my present. He gazed for several minutes silently, like one in a reverent prayer; his eyes filled with tears. He was deeply touched and I asked him why he became so sad. After pondering my question for a few moments he replied:
‘I am sad because I feel sorry that he had to die by the hand of a villain. Don’t you find, judging from his picture, that his eyes are full of tears and that his lips are sad with a secret sorrow?’
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bobbydixon · 11 years
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This kid has his priorities straight; he has the looks and probably is doing very well today. I worry that he lives in the shadow of his greatness but we all need to move on to better things -- being a Nintendo model is probably not a sustainable model. 
And look how orderly his shit is -- action models above his boxy tv give the space some movement in what would be a very stagnant corner. Presumably the middle helicopter is a HUEY, a popular model used in Vietnam War movies, but I am sure the set designer was not trying to suggest any sort of ironic feng shui. 
  This kid has so many reasons to offer a thumbs up. Baseball trophy. Good job. Clean white shoes obnoxiously perched on his nice desk -- how the fuck do you keep white shoes looking clean, shit is ruining my life. I think the feet on the desk issue can slide since the young gentleman is polite enough to take his neon green Capcom hat off while he is indoors, which makes me wonder if his father's voice is a constant echo to take his hat off indoors. Or maybe he just needs the mullet fluff to breath for a bit while he cools his heals on some 8-bit cartridges for a bit, an emotional, physical & spiritual RESET after a long day of RC cars, pre-algebra & bra snapping. 
The biggest mes here is the aforementioned 8-bit cartridge and carefully messy game boxes in the background of his positive thumb. No kit kat wrappers or half full and half flat burger king soda cups. I knew kids like this, except their parents allowed them to smoke in the house by the time we were in middle school, but I bet this health nut thinks that shit is a bad scene and stopped listening to anything remotely aggressive as soon as Pantera came out w/vulgar display of power. I wonder if his mom cleans his room while he is away, or maybe we should just be honest and it was probably their maid, someone who loves this white boy more than some of her own children like a load-bearing Faulkner character. She probably has no idea that this is just a poor man's Corey Haim and I hope he never had to fall on that role again in his life. 
Fuck Nintendo
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bobbydixon · 11 years
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It’s contest time. You can win one of a three copies of my book HAPPY ROCK in hardcover*. In the past, I’ve had people send me photos of themselves playing pinball to win hardcover copies of A JELLO HORSE. It went great. When THE MOON TONIGHT FEELS MY REVENGE came out, I got people to...
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bobbydixon · 11 years
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what was the last short story you wrote about?
Hi. Thanks for the question. 
This was my last story here:
http://thefiddleback.com/issue-items/mead-dad-bristles-heat-dad-bristles
To answer your question, beats me. 
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bobbydixon · 11 years
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amazing melissa 
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Melissa Broder
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bobbydixon · 12 years
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bobbydixon · 12 years
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‘HONEY’ VIDEO BY ANGELA BERMUDA 2011.
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