Friday, January 27, 2006


Today's allegorical comic strip is dedicated to David Stainton!

"I imagine it must be nice to have a past important enough to forget." --Imad Rahman

Tuesday, January 24, 2006











Well, it appears as tho that broiling bastion-pot of hate known as my Comments Column has finally simmered back down to its former tepid teakettle of compliments and steroid ads (thanks again everyone for those 15 posts of magic!). If that makes you feel safe again, dear reader, don't bother. The locusts will take care of that. The locusts and that spoon of theirs, anyway...

Aphrodite fans unite! So, Garrett, Eren, that means hold hands. Finally I've finished the development of my latest villains: The Hibachi Trepidation Trio--a racist, legally-retarded gang of kabuki anarchists. You've already met Hai Minh from a previous tag--but now you can check out her wacky partners in crime--Tang (the shirtless one), Gunter (the ninja), and Rudy (the remaining guy). Sorry that's it been so long between Aphrodite characters, but it's been quite the challenge to design such an eccentricly eccentric group where each member is uniquely eccentric yet also fits into their eccentric whole. By large, they are pretty much the visually loudest characters of the A-Go-Go 'verse. I'd divulge more about them, but I'd like to save some surprises for everyone once the Aphrodite bible compendium is ready. Anypowwows, I'm pretty happy with them and had a blast with these kids! Hope they taste like cotton candy to your eyes!

"It's the mystery that endures. Not the explanation." --Neil Gaiman

Tuesday, January 17, 2006



So it was like only last week that I thanked youse guys for supporting me in my global conquests for the past 5 months and now suddenly I'm being bombarded with all kinds of mad scientists competing with me for dictatorial rights to the world--from the Europeans who want to use Uganda to combine rabbit and human DNA for cheap, cheap thrills to the Taiwanese who successfully bred pigs who glow a fluorescent green from the inside-out (don't forget who did it all first using Nagasaki orphans, guys!), this is not good! This means that one of you readers is a mole leaking my exploits to any third world throne-sitter with half a wallet and half a gag reflex. Save us all from my wrath, mole, and come forward before I have to systematically eliminate ever last reader to sanctify this blog (and don't think I won't--ever wonder what happened to Montgomery Ward? NO ONE CAME FORWARD TO ADMIT THEY SOLD ME THAT FAULTY BED SHEET!!!!). I and I alone shall rule this green and blue swirly space sphere, and I shall do it with a tungsten fist, not with a rabbit dude or glow-pig you third world weirdos.

Hey! Guess who's "on notice!":

SBC--my phone line went down last week for like the seventh time in 2 1/2 years, and they took about a week to come out and fix it (again!). Don't call me, I'll call you buttwads!

Kelloggs--they discontinued the Finding Nemo cereal! And that stuff was good! I may not be able to Find Nemo anymore, Kelloggs, but you can find yourselves "on notice!"

Teen Punk Girls With Purple Hair & Lip Piercings--they've just had this COMING!!!!

The Creators Of Hoodwinked--I am gonna adopt a Guadalejaran kid, name him Li'l Ruteger, and take him to see this movie over and over again until his eyes shrivel and bleed from a sheer crap overdose, he literally gets dysentary from sitting too close to the screen, and the very mention of your "film" will rush his flesh with an onslaught of pimple pox just so I can send you lowlifes a picture of him with the handwritten caption "Hope you're happy with yourselves."

Mandy Patinkin--no reason here, just thought a threat might inspire him from becoming the next Steve Gutenberg--oops, too late!!!

Now as some of you know, I've been a long-time collector of Bill Peet books and (altho I'm still 7 books away from achieving the collection I want) I can now officially declare my favorite--Capyboppy. It's the autobiographical account of how Peet's zoology-studying son adopts a South American capybara as a pet and how the Peet family adapts to it and vice versa. It's a very warm, endearing, and slightly tragicomic tale that simply purrs page after page. Sure, like most other Peet stories, this book is far from flawless storytelling but, as is also true with his other publications, his auxiliary art fills in where the story lacks. I bought Capyboppy with two other books that are now tied as my second favorite Peet venture--Harold's Hair-Raising Adventure, a tale of a lion's baldness remedy going terribly awry (for the amazing acting and expressive line he uses on his animal characters); and No Such Things, an encyclopedia of fictitious beasts (just for his sheer use of imagination). Buy them all if you love freedom.

Today's drawing is a collection of mischevious girls I sent to a greeting card company--I didn't get the job, but their loss is your gain. And afterall, me Tarzan, you gain. Awwww, who typed that one? Pew.

"I want love to win out, not just for my sake but so that the picture of this world will line up right with the picture of the other." --Rafi Zabor

Monday, January 02, 2006




Zowie. My first post of 2006. Can you BELIEVE that WDW has been up and running for 5 months now? It's been a long keypad to the top, past many skeptics who sneered we wouldn't make it, who laughed at the longevity of the villainous blog, and who gasped at discovering I need a spotter to go to the bathroom (it's just a sock, guy). But here we are dear readers, 5 months later and still reading and writing strong on a full tank of gonorrhea and a wishbone in the sky. And those skeptics? Dead. From an overdose of plankton, naturally. Or "surviving" the rest of their years laboring in my Algerian gymnastics mine (where we mine gymnastics!). It depends, I flipped a coin for each of them. Either way, no one's gonna hear from that Deforest Kelley for awhile.
And looking back at my original pledgeling post, I now remember I not only promised to post artwork for you kingly kids, but writings as well. Granted, my lengthy posts probably count as writings to you, but I meant CREATIVE writings, not just daily mini-manifestos dictated by moy and typed by my Zoroastrian assistant, Vivika. So, to give you guys more to read on top of look at, here's a two-voice poem I wrote back in high skool called "Batman & PeeWee Herman Watching OJ Being Acquitted Of Murder On TV"--check it out, it's all existential and kewl. But if you don't want to read it, you can look at me all trying to learn from yet also stylize Mr. Joseph Weatherly again. Don't trust the Viet-Cong!


BATMAN & PEE WEE HERMAN WATCHING OJ BEING ACQUITTED OF MURDER ON TV

A Two-Voice Poem By Matt Roberts

I am speechless.
I know you are, but what am I?

Where is the reasoning, where is the justice?
What will become of OJ now?

How can the jury go to bed at night knowing they’ve willingly unleashed onto the public a murderer?
Will he be given a second chance like me and rebound in a few years, or live his life in exile?

Is this, this, what I’ve worked all these years for?!
Why did I ever agree to making Big Top Pee Wee? Friggin piece of box office poison.

My unwavering dedication towards the prevention of crime, solely performed to shield others from the incessant pain that torments me. Has it been in vain?
OJ, what compels us to do wrong and throw away our success? Do we feel unworthy, unable to handle it?

I have surrendered my life to uphold justice. Why can’t the jury do the same?
Why, though under different circumstances, have we had such ill fate with the opposite of sex?

Is this really the type of society I want to protect? One that allows killers to walk freely amongst you and I?
Is the problem somehow intertwined with fame? Or is it us? Our upbringing perhaps?

How has society devolved to such an amoebic state?
Is it society?

Is the media to blame? With its bombastic bombardment of numbing and desensitizing violence?
Can I really put the blame on something tangible, or is chaos and destruction a force generated by all of us?

Or is there a languor in leaders and role models today that inspires such blasphemy?
If it is a force that is responsible, what ignited its flame?

How can I go on, knowing the scum I apprehend will only be released with open arms by the very public that is terrorized by such criminals?
I can’t believe how complicated life can be.

Is evil, then, the common characteristic of mankind, and good a minority?
I can’t believe how easily it can all be lost.

Is this some morbid tradition passed on to us from Jesus and Barabas?
I can’t believe Lawrence Fishburn was a cast member on Pee Wee’s Playhouse.

Or am I the cause? Perhaps I haven’t been as effective as I strive to be.
Or am I the cause? Perhaps I haven’t been as effective as I strive to be.

Is this what my frustration roots from? Do I feel partially to blame?
Is this what my frustration roots from? Do I feel partially to blame?

What are you doing?
What are you doing?

Stop repeating everything I say.
Stop repeating everything I say.

Seriously. Shut up.
No you shut up.

Why don’t you make me?
Because I don’t make monkeys, I only trade ‘em!

Whatever. I think the real question is, do I work to prevent injustice or to merely thwart the intentions of evildoers or both?
Jeez, I apologize. Again, do I act so impudently out of instinct, or are external factors responsible or both or neither?

Dear God! Why OJ?! Why me?! Will I ever understand it?!
For the sake of the Groundlings! Why must creation be accompanied by destruction?! Why?!

Ahh. Existence. What a bitter, piercing pill it is to swallow.
Pfff. Life. What a turbulent rollercoaster it is to ride.


"No one thinks they're bad." --Robert McKee