Roving Lemon

Edit: the title for this comic is “Puzzle Rat” this one’s a few days late due to having a lot of doctors appointments sorry it’s  just 9 pages, and about some rats… it’s more symbolic than anything really

king arthur was welsh. merlin was welsh. camelot was in wales. the lady and the lake she pops out of; welsh. excalibur; magic inanimate welsh object. etc.

on the way to see family, i drive past a lake that in which is welsh legend, is the last resting place of excalibur.

Arthur is a Welsh name. It means ‘bear’. He’s likely derived from a Gaulish bear god

In the form of King Arthur, he is an anti-Saxon mythological WELSH figure, representing the native Brythonic people of Britain against the Anglo-Saxon invaders, dating from the 500s AD

The version appropriated by the English in the 1100s is the shitty boring sanitised version - they did it because they were trying to compete with the romance tradition on the continent at the time but didn’t have anything of their own to romanticise

Merlin is called Myrddin

Percival is Peredur

Kay is Cei, and also was subject to enormous character assassination in the English version - in the Welsh version he’s much closer to Arthur’s right hand man

Guinevere is Gwenhwyfar

There is no Lancelot, no Galahad, no tedious affair story

There is no Camelot. Arthur’s seat was Caerllion - modern Caerleon, putting him into both the region of the Silures (one of the most fearsome and warlike of the British tribes, modern South East Wales) and the old Roman fortress, which would have been an impossibly huge Palace for a warlord at the time.

They all have super powers and get up to wacky hijinks involving hair care, giants, strange giant wildlife, spectral revolving/glass fortresses in the Celtic sea, and a really fucking weird chess match. Also a cloak made out of beards.

What the fuck is the round table

At the start of my employment, my boss showed me videos of people stealing, and we both had a chuckle about it. How silly they were! There was a camera overhead, and it’s not to watch the shoppers. See, we can’t actually stop shoplifters. They get away with it maybe nine out of ten times. But we, who are watched and tallied and witnessed? We are always caught.

At first it was hard to hold one hundred dollars bills. An amount I had never seen before. An amount that didn’t exist in my household. It’s normal now. Here is something that is not for me.

“What the hell, I’ll take another,” says the man, pondering our 200 dollar watches. What the hell. Total comes to 580 and not even a flinch in his face. I have been working for 11 hours today and made only 110 dollars. It will go to my rent. Today I work for free, it feels. When I get my check, I will have 35 dollars left for food and saving.

The six hundreds he hands me go into the cash register. For a moment, I imagine having money. Then I put it away, counting out his change.

I know for a fact we sell our products for double what they are worth. That I could be making commission. That they could hand me those 580 dollars and change my life and not even mark the difference in their checkbooks. He’s not the only sale they make today, but I am the reason they made it. He’s not the only one spending 600 dollars, but if I hadn’t spent two hours with him telling me about his life, he wouldn’t have spent any. I go home. I don’t own a watch.

I have watched and rewatched a video on how to make salmon four ways. My shopping list is always the same. Pasta. Rice. Tuna. If I can afford butter it was a good week. I dream of the world I will never walk in, where I can throw the best fish fillet in the cart with a shrug. I hold hundreds in my hand and look up at the camera. I put them under the cash drawer.

I go to work. I scrap together my savings. I eat my bowl of rice slowly. My manager takes a paid week off from work just for his birthday. He owns a yacht. 

i was part of their college program. i moved to the state for it. they legally owned the building i was living in and still charged me rent. i ostensibly was being charged to work for them. it was a 2 bedroom apartment and they placed 6 adult women in it in forced triples.

as many as one in ten disney employees have experienced homelessness while working for the company. despite huge efforts to unionize, strike, or otherwise demand fair treatment; disney has refused to increase employee quality of life.

disney admits publicly that a good portion of their success is because the employees (“cast members”) are dedicated, passionate, and selfless. this is never reflected in pay. even “face” characters (ie those that are princesses etc) make barely above a minimum wage.

at the time that i worked there, i made $8.50 an hour. at one point i was asked to create a human shield around a bag because a bomb dog had alerted to it. for eight fucking dollars an hour.

i now work a very cushy office job. i have bought the salmon and cooked it all four ways.

i go to the store. i am nice to the person behind the counter. she looks up at the camera while she counts out my change. there is nothing fundamentally different about her and i.

You’re allowed to be tired, even if you haven’t “done” anything and you’re allowed to be tired even if you did less than someone else.

It is NEVER a waste of a day to rest. Never, ever. My therapist and I have talked about this and they always remind me that resting when needed is actually an investment of time, not a waste.

and it's a painful distinction to make because that's a really strong motivator in its own right. like sometimes you'll ask yourself "okay well if I was going to make <insert project here> ONLY for myself, how would I do it" and the answer is going to be "I wouldn't" and that's a rough fucking pill to swallow.

on the other hand, I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with daydreaming about projects you don't actually want to make, but which you like imagining Having Made. plan out a game you're not going to code. plot out a novel you don't care to write. Having Made Something is not the point of art.* rolling around in creative mud with no real objective has value god damn it

as someone who wrote several novels as a teenager, I luckily made a lot of fundamental discoveries about writing at a relatively early age, and the importance of genuinely enjoying the process was one of them.

I had projects where I had a really clear vision of what I wanted the final thing to look like, and I never finished those projects. Writing projects I actually finished were always the ones where I started with NO plan and just fucked around until I reached the end.

I am figuring out more and more that I am a pantser (as opposed to a plotter)-- someone who writes "by the seat of their pants" so to speak, and though this post isn't exactly about process in that way, this post made it click for me what that means. The result of my process is not the purpose of the process. The process is its own thing. The way I like to write and puzzle through stories and figure them out as I go isn't like, an auxiliary thing that leads to a desirable product, it is the thing itself.

I've started to think about all art in terms of being performance art, not in the sense that there is an audience watching, the opposite actually, but in the sense that the process of making it is part of the art. Making IS art, or art IS making.

ya got

gochujang butter noodles

peanut butter noodles

chili crisp fettuccine alfredo

miso butter noodles

2. Hobby books are even more often written by people who don't have or are actively neglecting their partners/full-time jobs/pets/children/household maintenance.

3. Hobby books are often written by people with ADHD, and an hour in ADHD hyperspace is like 2-7 hours for everyone else, including other ADHD people who are not currently in the zone.

4. Hobby books are written by people who, when told by an editor to add in how long it will take, just make shit up

5. If you're doing something for the first time, you're going to take way, way longer to do it than someone who's had years of practice. Maybe it does only take an hour IF YOU'VE BEEN DOING IT FOR TEN YEARS. Think about how long it took you to make idk your first excel spreadsheet vs how long it takes now

To actually answer your question: proud. You should feel proud, because you made something, AND you did so while learning a brand-new skill! Go you!!

its not a "native version of nonbinary" or a "native version of bigender"

thats not what it means, that’s not what it’s ever meant

two spirit is an pan-tribal term coined by indigenous people in 1990, for indigenous people, to replace the term berdache, an offensive term that white settlers applied to indigenous people that fell outside of the western lens of gender and sexuality

two spirit isnt a "native version of nonbinary" because two spirit doesnt inherently mean someone is nonbinary. some of us are, but so many two spirited people arent. many people in our community also choose specifically not to label themselves with terms like nonbinary, gay, bisexual, etc, and solely use two spirit or another term from their tribe or language

we can be anything and everything and nothing you've ever imagined

This is "Arras", by Mark Lewanski, and the medium is G L A S S.