Carrie Fisher

I was born in love with Carrie Fisher.

Ok, not exactly.  I didn’t know who she was for several years.  But one of my earliest memories is of seeing Star Wars in the theater and sharing Luke Skywalker’s immediate infatuation with the tiny blue image of Princess Leia pleading for help from Obi Wan Kenobi.  I think I was three.

My love for Carrie Fisher was not simply for Princess Leia.  Though this role did dominate my childhood, I did see her in other roles.  And my love was not at all dirty.  I’d like to say that I was too young to harbor dirty thoughts, and at three, when I saw Star Wars, I certainly was.  At six when I saw Empire Strikes Back I was probably still too young to entertain any salacious imaginings.  But by the time I was 9, when I saw Return of the Jedi, I was certainly old enough to know that under a girl’s shirt were boobs and that I probably wanted to see them, though anything dirtier was still several years down the road.  Still, my love for Carrie Fisher was not dirty.  She was bangin’ in the Jabba the Hutt slave outfit to be sure, but it was not sexualized to me.  It could not be because my love was pure.

In first grade I had a Star Wars Trapper Keeper folder.  I did not have a Trapper Keeper because they were expensive, but I insisted on the folder.  On one side of the folder was Luke Skywalker.  On the other side was Princess Leia in the celebratory gown she wore after the destruction of the Death Star.  I remember sleeping with that folder.  I’d keep it Luke side up until my mother turned the light off, then I’d switch it to Leia and I’d imagine my bed was the Millennium Falcon and we were fighting the Empire.  I remember trying to kiss the Leia lips, but it was impossible to know if I was successful.  I had never kissed a girl and it was dark and the folder gave me nothing.  She was flat and unresponsive.  I wasn’t to the folder what the folder was to me.  But that was ok.  Her just being there was enough.

I also remember going to Lionel Play World (now Toys R Us) after seeing the Empire Strikes Back.  My brother and I were allowed to each buy one action figure.  I desperately wanted to buy the Princess Leia in the Hoth outfit.  Patrick got some guy, probably Luke in his Bespin outfit.  When I was asked who I wanted I got cold feet.  I had been holding the Princess Leia toy and I think my father knew I wanted her, but when asked I chickened out and got someone else.  I don’t even remember who because I immediately regretted everything for all time.  I don’t know why I did it.  I think it was the knowing look in my father’s eye.  That look that said, “That’s my boy!  Go for the pretty girl.”  That knowing look that actually didn’t know anything about what I really wanted at that moment.  I wanted the Leia figure, but not because it was a pretty girl.  It was because that character, Leia, was an integral part of the Star Wars universe.  She was the indomitable good.  She was the incorruptible defiance in the face of oppression.  Luke was a pure hero.  Han was an opportunistic hero.  But heroes come and go.  Leia was forever.  Leia was the institution.  Leia didn’t need to join the rebellion.  She was the rebellion.  But I could never have understood that at such a young age and I certainly couldn’t explain it to my father.

I know that I am not the most die-hard fan of Carrie Fisher that ever lived.  I have never read any of her books, though I have always intended to.  I always listen intently when my wife reads excerpts from Wishful Drinking, or when my daughter reads her tweets.  But I was shaken on Christmas Eve when I learned she had suffered a heart attack.  I had to take a moment to collect myself.  And I was truly dismayed yesterday to learn that she had died.  She was my childhood girlfriend, though she never knew it.  It was an innocent and pure love.  The love of a woman who was struggling righteously against the ills of a galaxy that oppresses and tries to impose its will on others.  And while Carrie Fisher was not Princess Leia, my understanding of her life – limited though it may be – suggests this image was not really that far from the truth.  I will miss her.

The Indignant Triers

The Indignant Triers or "the it." 

The Indignant Triers are the rebellious youth in Awk.  Most of the original members of "the it" are common patrons of the Coffee Haus and were present when the local minstrel Irwin Irwin gave his famous copout speech.  He played all of his well-loved tunes about being unique and different and finding a place in the world in spite of your differences.  Then after his show he used his last moments at the microphone to explain to the youth in attendance that getting out of Awk was impossible and shouldn’t be tried because it will never be accomplished.  He said that the people of Awk should accept their place in the world and work in the mines and fields like good citizens.  Then he suggested everyone buy his album.  The crowd was silent until a boy named Oswald Lucien began to boo so hard that Irwin Irwin was startled and dropped his guitar.  Then he said, “How dare you tell us to quit trying to escape?  To quit is to die.  You’re telling us to give up and die.  You should be telling us to keep trying regardless of the odds.  To search for escape is to be Awkward.  We should never quit trying!” After Oswald spoke the kids in attendance began to chant, “Never quit trying!  Never quit trying!” They continued to chant until the owner of the Coffee Haus was forced to close for the night. By the end of the week a handful of the town youth had created "the it," a social group of support where they encourage each other to ignore the pull of acquiescence and to indignantly try to escape the bonds of Awk.  Oswald is considered the founder of the group, though most members disagree about what he looks like or whether he’s ever been to a meeting.  He is rarely seen around Awk, and only by The IT.  Many adults doubt his existence, but the children believe.  They refer to him as “the Reverend.” At least once a week members of The IT venture into the awkwards as a group in an effort to find an escape from Awk. 

Mr Jennifer

Jim Jennifer aka Mr. Jennifer or Bloodless Jen. Visitors to town assume Bloodless Jennifer is a ghost story about some dead girl; akin to Bloody Mary. But Mr. Jennifer is no girl. He acquired the epithet Bloodless from his extremely white complexion. There are rumors about town that Mr. Jennifer is the cause of the many mysterious and unsolved deaths of late, but Mr. Jennifer is not to blame. Jim's sole claim to fame is that he is an amateur garbage collector. Where he takes the garbage he collects none know. 

G. Digger

G. Digger. Digger probably has a real name, but no one remembers it. He's been the town grave digger since before everyone else in town was. While the Awk citizens do seem to have more misfortune than other towns their size, there simply isn't enough grave digging to do to keep Digger in a full time job or to keep him entertained. He just loves to dig. If you have a project that needs a digger, Digger is your man. Especially if the hole you need is about 6'X6'X3'. He won't tell a soul what you fill it with. He's also available for digging things up and relocating them. If you have need of such a task.

History

"Those who do not learn from their history are doomed to repeat it."
                         -George Santayana

This quote by the poet and philosopher George Santayana is probably true.  But the problem as I see it is that people misunderstand the lesson; especially on a macro scale.

What do I mean?  Well, it is true that those societies and countries who do not learn from their history are doomed to repeat it.  But many people believe that the lesson here is to learn your history so that you are not doomed to repeat it.  But that is, unfortunately, not the case.  The fact is you're damned to repeat your history regardless.

I have my degree in History from the University of Georgia, 1998.  I have studied my history.  I have learned lessons from the past.  And when I see society making stupid as shit choices I raise my voice in protest.  I vote against the tide.  But guess what?  You cannot change the tide and you cannot control a frothy mouthed crowd.

When the IT financial bubble of the late 90s was growing financial advisers all around were giving warning.  Those warnings went unheeded and we had a small recession and suddenly there were thousands of computer programmers without jobs.  When the housing bubble of the early 2000s was growing financial advisers all around were giving warning.  Those warnings went unheeded and we had a very large recession, the likes of which we had not seen since the Great Depression.  And thousands of families, mine included, lost their homes.  And for the last 8 years financial advisers have been saying, "Maybe we should do something about this 0% interest rate."  But no one seems to be listening.

All through history historians have stood at the sidelines giving warning and being treated as the old-fuddy-duddy-coot.

"Hey..." he or she would say.  "Hey, guys?  I think we might have already tried this."
And the crowd would rumble and ignore the old coot.
"You guys remember, right?" s/he would shout.  "You remember how we kinda started a war?"
And the crowd would rumble and ignore the old coot.
"You remember that we kinda killed like... tens of thousands of innocent people?"
And the crowd would rumble and ignore the old coot.
"You remember that we lost thousands of our sons and daughters?  You remember that we ended the war worse off than when we started?"
And the crowd would rumble and ignore the old coot.

So yes, if you do not learn from your history you are doomed to repeat it.  AND if you do learn from your history you are doomed to repeat it.  So I think the very sad lesson George Santayana was teaching is, "Don't learn your history because you're doomed to repeat it.  But if you don't know you are repeating it you'll only be an ass.  You won't also feel like one."

Tom Swell

Tom Swell. The Awk town motto: If you're lucky you'll grow out of it" is based on the myth of Tom Swell, the only person ever to leave Awk alive. In the 40s Tom caught a bad case of proportional everythingoma, a rare disease in which every part of your body has cancer and begins to grow at an alarming, but proportional rate. He grew and grew until he was taller than the town tower. He did not die from the cancer, though, he died from his inability to feed his ever growing body. After a year of growing he passed out from malnutrition and hit his head on the stone of freedom just outside of town. He instantly died. However, since his head and part of his torso were beyond the city limits, most of the people of Awk view this as an amazing and successful escape. 

Awk

So I've created this new town. It's called Awk. Here is the sign as you enter the town:

The town of Awk, located in Upper Arik, is where most of my drawn characters reside.  Anyone headed for Awk, or already in Awk, is considered Awkward.  These awkward citizens however, would urge you to find a different place to settle.  Not because they don't like you, but because there is no record or evidence of anyone ever leaving Awk.

I'm not 100% happy with the sign.  I did it in a hurry because my list of characters was growing faster and faster.  I wanted to begin putting them on the internet, but I also wanted readers/viewers to have some context as to where these people lived.  So, I may update the sign in the future, but it is low-pri.