Android Man -Comics Online

HEY APATHY! COMICS ONLINE

This may sound odd to many people, especially to younger audiences, not that I’m old or anything it just happens. Suddenly most of your hair is gone and what is left is grey, you get tired and can’t move so well on rainy days. Without warning all the new music and movies seem stupid but it doesn’t matter because you can’t remember them anyways. You also begin noticing that supernal luster of life and vitality in the skin of the young though you’ve no memory of such a glow in your own youth. But here I go jabbering like the old fool I’d sworn never to be! What I meant to say is most of you might find this strange, being accustomed to such things, but I have finally become an android.




For the better part of my long life I have earned an honest living as landscape painter. As you can imagine most of my time was spent outdoors. I passed hours messing with thick paints on some of the world’s most striking hillsides. Many of these subjects were quite isolated but frequent trips to towns and cities kept me satisfied for both supplies and socialization. One of my favorite excursions was to the artist’s district where I used to have professional slide photography taken while I mingled with the creative denizens of the west side lofts.



After the travel friendly season of sketching and experimentation was completed I’d return to the metropolis to hold up in studio for the winter. In the middle of the city it was easy to get around regardless of weather and the frequent trips about kept me in touch with reality until the bright spring time sun returned. This lifestyle suited me for a long time and the probabilities of anything else seemed nil.



Again, sounds silly doesn’t it? I mean we all know there aren’t any landscapes anymore. Nevertheless after the forests were all gone business actually improved rather drastically. People longed for nature scenes and even though I couldn’t actually visit them anymore, I didn’t really have the time anyways. The paintings sold for what ever I asked and as often as I felt inspired. Soon the business was at such a pace that I started having my supplies and groceries delivered. With seldom a break nearly six months had past and I never set foot outside my building.



After the extended period I completed enough of the work for an exhibition. I got very excited about the event because it meant going down to the old artist district for some slides and a few pints. However when I called in for an appointment I was told the lofts had all closed. My art dealer told me it didn’t matter and sent me a small camera to do the shots myself. He said he’d come around to gather him but on the date he was expected I received a package from him instead. Inside was a computer and instructions on how to email him the photos. So I did and that was that.



Some time passed and I continued working alone and indoors when one day I received a phone call. It was an automated message from my dealer requesting that I mail him a signed copy of certain form I’d find in my email. I then realized that I didn’t have a printer and finally had an excuse to leave the house. I got dressed and strolled down to the nearest internet café. I thought about how this would be a nice part of my routine. I’ll go for a walk and a coffee any time that I need something printed. When I got to the café it was closing, they said business wasn’t any good. The movers handed me a free printer and continued to clean out the shop.



Some more time passed before I received further news from my agent. This time he’d struck a deal to mass produce prints of the art. I was instructed to do away with my painterly materials and given a state of the art drawing tablet in their place. All of the work is now done directly in the machine.



Still business is booming and all I ever have to do is paint. There was a time when this would have been a dream come true but the repetition and isolation is growing wearisome. I thought that maybe I’d go seem a movie or peruse the local book shop. I might entertainment shipped me another device. This time it was a smaller computer designed exclusively for reading books. While I examined the thin and foreign object, he set up a “stream” on my desktop (from his remote location) which endlessly plays movies. Now I never have to go out.



It is absolutely incredible all these machine around my chair. I can access anything I want or need to within a 3 foot squared space. All my business, all my pleasures, all my necessities, available in this tiny room. I know it all seem so normal to most, but to me it has been sudden and strange. One minute I was standing in nature’s open valley and the next in an electronic world. I realize I am now an android; a prisoner … at least the landscape business has never been so damn profitable.

MORE PEN AND INK ILLUSTRATIONS

Toronto Artist

HEY APATHY! Toronto Artist

Getting ready for a long winter in the studio.

What a beautiful winter’s day for a stroll. The winds are blowing a white dust around. The ground is slippery and slushy but repeatedly painted white, as was I after ten minutes with a coffee on the corner bench. The computer says it is – 8 with 44 mph winds but it doesn’t really matter I made my way obtrusively through all my chores. These obstructions slowing my route had nothing whatsoever to do with the weather but merely mistakes and poor planning on the part of myself. I made way to the pet store to get crickets for my lizard forgetting of course that they are closed every Tuesday. Half way to the art store I remembered using up my supplies but realized at that moment I’d not brought enough money. I made my way home through the snow and back to for the supplies, another quick coffee and I was settled in the studio by three. I actually enjoyed the mild weather making the travels rather pleasant. I hate being cooped up no matter how productive it can be. At any rate yesterday my face froze in minutes and I couldn’t travel without a protective hood.

The rest of the afternoon was spent cleaning and organizing all my upcoming projects. Throughout the pleasant seasons I tend to carry very few supplies and travel around creating work. It is really keep track of my materials this way but obviously affects the kind of work I can produce. Now, as the freezing imprisonment approaches, I find myself working on multiple tasks and all the equipment gets scattered. Today was my third three hour session in three days of tidying and I’ve finally got all this stuff together. When you need a ruler or eraser, it is really convenient to know where it is.

The next few months are going to be divided between three primary tasks. The first is more animation. For this I use two pens, two brushes, a light table, one stack of 8.5 x 11” blank paper and another with finished drawings. Because of the magnitude of this project I have (now) a small area dedicated to this production. It is always set up so anytime I feel inclined I need only pick of the pen. The second endeavor is the ongoing weekly webcomic. For these drawings I use the same two pens and brushes but work on larger illustration board. I only do this once a week so I’ve got the boards and long rulers stored in a easily accessible and visible place. The third, and somewhat terrifying, winter project is working on the website. I cleaned out my computer and have all the hard copies, photographs and drawings ready by the scanner. Found piles of unlabelled cd/dvds to go through also. (The picture above is from one of the mystery discs) I’ve got a lot of rebuilding to do. A large portion of my site was built before I even knew what miniscule bits I now understand about the computer. Anyways it should look a bit better than it does now.

That’s enough about my boring life. Probably a little hyper from all the coffees today but I think this little ramble helped me sort out my own mind. Hopefully tomorrow will be consumed less by trivial duties and more with the new animations. In the meantime check out the HEYAPATHY! comics online.

Strange Stories - The Deceptive Window

HEY APATHY! Alternative Comics & Art

My miniscule and angular apartment boasts no luxurious features and has only one small window overlooking the outside world. The window is exactly 2 feet 8 inches wide by 3 feet and 6 inches tall except for when it is not. Sometimes the window is much smaller though it has never been any larger than it appears. The varying size of the portal is however manageable and of little concern. The truly disconcerting qualities, the sensations of uneasiness and disorientation, are coming from the things I see on the other side.

The view is a clear and basic one, facing an empty skyline with few buildings or really anything at all. Oddly enough I am located in the heart of the big city, surrounded by corporate skyscrapers, condominiums, clubs, restaurants and malls, yet the placement and dimensions of the window have left me staring at an empty sky. There is however the top of a maple and a grouping of electric wires. At night the moon sits in the corner but the sun herself never passes me by. As such the scenery offers little more in it’s usefulness than a representation of seasons and possibly the weather.

The particular alignment of the buildings facade in conjunction with the sloped major road ways and metropolitan tower labyrinths has obscured not only my vision by the ability to listen too. With one of the few open passages amidst the entire urban landscape, the window sits directly in the center of a strange wind tunnel. The gusts travel to and from all ends of the city carrying unusual signals in uncertain waves. The sounds, combined with the rumbling from traffic below, sing through the apartment but bear no semblance to sense. It may sound like a massive parade going on but when I’d inspected, the street were all bare. Sometimes crystal clear conversations take place in this room and on other occasions I could’ve sworn my neighbors were partying excessively. Of course in each of these cases, the noisy culprits were only riding the winds.

Like the sonics it carries, the winds also move deceptively around. Often dancing with the tree just outside as well as stomping throughout my room. The patterns are so erratic that once with a swoosh I’d been blown off my chair. In another instant I battled with a pounding rainfall only to find a mere drizzle occurring outdoors. The opposite is also quite ordinary and days that appear still and beautiful turn out to be frozen by storms. Occasionally the window properly predicted the true conditions, but only often enough to keep me confused.

Even at this very moment things appear quite and the sun is shining. There is little noise and no winds blowing, even the tips of the tree are standing still. No, I won’t be fooled this time, I can see that misty stream of smoke. It is almost invisibly faded, yet most certainly there. That opaque smoke is from a furnace, and the speed with which it vanished must mean angry northern currents. I’ll stay here where it’s warm and cozy, but what if I’m wrong? What if it is s beautiful day? Maybe the streets are paved with music or spring blossoms and I am in here, trapped indoors? You never really can tell from this window. At least there is one thing certain in all this trickery and that is that the window always wins. No matter how I examine or analyze the situation, it incites in me an inspiration to get up, dressed, and outside to gaze firsthand into a world in which one never knows.

Don't forget your weekly dose of surreal art comics! New webcomics every week!

Eyes in the Sky - Diaries of a Dead Man

HEY APATHY! Pen & InkDrawings

Though my limbs continue to sway, it is only the conglomeration of larvae and vermin scurrying beneath my flesh which keep this body in motion. Once a young and hope filled enthusiast, I threw myself into a world of optimistic activism. In this world every action, thought and deed was designed to satisfy an overwhelming concern and impulsive revolt which had permeated throughout my logic. I couldn’t understand existence but could see how a few simple changes, like a strategic twist of a rubix’s cube, would bring the whole thing together. So I fought the good fight in every respect. From the simplest of gestures to the most elaborate of affairs every move I ever made was a plea for change and an educated attempt to incite such occurrences.


For years my struggles went unimpeded. Each new season brought new success and the movement I’d become a part of grew stronger. Although at this point I see little reason in preaching of the various methods and means through which we’d achieved such successes, I will mention that the numerous enterprises involved had assimilated many of the techniques invented by our consumerist opponents. We had discovered a means of production and promotion equally as profitable yet completely void of all the manipulative and damaging aspects associated with commercial ventures. Absolutely no hazardous materials, inhumane labor conditions or corrosive advertising were ever implemented yet still our products flourished. As a result the project began to attract attention from a multitude of investor’s, producers, agents, Hollywood stars, writers and critics. A mainstream breakthrough was undoubtedly on our horizon. However time and again, the outside interests proved detrimental, forcing us to abandon seemingly endless avenues of opportunity to avoid the risk of turning into the very thing we despised.


All of this, of course, was to be expected and frustrated us little. We’d been fortunate enough to find smaller opportunities in abundance and were never truly tempted by manufactured success. Do not misunderstand this, for our mission depends on mass communication and every possibility was examined to the fullest. However at the first hint of corruption all negotiations ceased. It was through this process that we were able to discover many people in favorable positions who were not only willing to assist, but truly believed in the cause. So it stood that, around the winter of my fifth year in the organization, things were going according to both or plans and ambitions.


It was a late November evening that I decided to go for a stroll. I had completed a lucrative summer schedule and was nearly prepared for the upcoming winter event. This “event” through not necessarily crucial, was definitely a pinnacle accomplishment in the progression of my work. I was confident and pleased, knowing full well the potential advancements that this particular project might incite. It was by far the most intricate and intelligibly developed of all our attempts. I felt a plausibly invincible and had little fear of any complications. As I wandered the streets filled with decorative lights and shopping hordes, a sudden tingling inspiration struck me not unlike a mild euphoric shock. .All of the hairs on my neck stood up in attention as I stood on the walkway in unexplicable awe and excitement.




Now before I continue it is important to understand a little more about my personal beliefs. I am not a spiritual or religious person in any right. I do not believe in the supernatural, fate, unicorns, honest politicians, Santa Claus or pop music. In fact it has been a particular devotion to logic and reason which has propelled this mission to unfathomable heights. Yes, the things I have been striving for are not unlike those taught with such emptiness by people who claim to be godly (or in the service of deities by any other name). However those of us involved are motivated only by the world we live in, the quality of life and our children, not by any other worldly rewards or punishments.



So there I was a devout atheist, anti-spiritualist, ultimate-realist with little imagination for intangible apparitions, standing in the middle of a glistening windy metropolitan street. Struck by this inspiration, I looked up to the sky and impulsively posed a question unlike any I’d ever considered before. My thoughts ran as thus “If there is something out there watching over us, whatever you are, I wanted to say that this place is a real mess. I’ve done my best to fix things down here and well if you give me a voice I will use it to help.”




I didn’t have time to analyze the absurdity of my thoughts before the sky opened up strange above me. There, as if superimposed between the opaque clouds and glossy sky, appeared two giant red eyes. They were not those of a feline or serpent, but they were not human either. The eyes closed and faded instantly, almost as if I never saw them. Yet in that brief second the mocking glance had, like all eyes do everywhere, told me a story. The eyes were laughing and had said something like ‘boy have you got it wrong, this is not a world for those who’d help, this is the playground of evil. As long as you follow the subservient laws, you are destined to a life of suffering and torture.” I couldn’t hear, nor visualize the castrating cachinnation bellowed by the beast but believe me I felt it. Beyond embarrassment, beyond humiliation, beyond hope, it was like starring in the mirror only to realize that you don’t look anything like you did in any of your dreams or memories.




I tried to put the experience aside and thought very little of it at the time. Even to this day I believe the vision was nothing more than an idle thought which found it’s profanity in my excited exhaustion. Not even for a moment have I accepted the hallucination for anything more than that, yet something terrible has been growing inside me ever since that weird walk. At first it manifested quite slowly like some terribly acidic consumption easily mistakable as some physical ailment. However this repulsive hollowness thwarting my innards soon spread throughout my veins. The perpetually evolving sensation now inhibits my entire being.





A record snowstorm hit the city shortly after the aforementioned incident. This terrible storm hit hard annihilating our winter event. Not only did the snow shun our attendance and shut our doors, but an accident involving several of our transport trucks all but destroyed any hope quick recovery. The winter that followed was plagued by destitution and the mission failed to progress until late the next spring. By that time I was able to recoup to some extent, but had become restrictively ill after a long and poverty stricken winter.



To make matters worse another company moved in on our market, only they were not doing it right. Though they had plagiarized our public appearance and boasted our ideologies for promotional purposes, the competitors were still producing products in an unredeemable fashion. In essence they had staked a claim to all of our innovations but were in fact still selling cheap sweatshop plastics. Before long that company started exploiting the corporate and media relations we had been forced to reject. Within a matter of minutes they had risen to international acclaim using our titles and image whilst belittling all our ideals. Broken by fatigue and corrupted by a despairing stomach I began to lose initiative and shortly thereafter resigned from the revolt.





I’ve spent years now wandering and the world seems perpetually worse. All of the different old buildings are gone and the new ones appearing are organized. I can no longer stomach the sound of new music and even in starvation I can’t find anything of value to eat. Sometimes I muster enough energy to read, but here there is nothing that can rekindle my once passionate pursuits. No, despite all my efforts and foremost ideas, the wound inflicted upon me that November night was a fatal one. My life ended there and then. Still the maggots and rats push me about and around; feeding on meats and seasoned remorse, but do not let these movements fool you, I am merely a staggering carcass. These routines, my remains, all the ruins, are nothing except fitting, for this is truly the world of dead men.





more stories

comics online

Hey Apathy! T-Shirts

Hey Apathy! T-Shirts for $20. Just a reminder that everyone should probably buy a surreal decapitation for their loved ones this holiday season.

Jenny Everywhere

Jenny Everywhere is a public domain super-herione, despite my satirical interpretation, I'd say one of the coolest characters ever.

Toronto Artist "A Paper-work Nightmare"

HEY APATHY! Comics Online

My Toronto artist studio floor is camouflaged with forms, essays, applications and endlessly bureaucratic pages of budgets and text. Hardly a drop of ink to be seen, the spots now entirely engulfed by the chaotic compilation of documents accompanied by randomly scattered brown envelopes and data discs. The theme to Gilliam’s Brazil echoes through the hallway as I dodge spelling errors, wrestle resumes and struggle to defeat the deadline horizon of this years granting season. The accumulation of two months worth of typing, reading, writing and rearranging words, numbers, pictures and accomplishments shuffles about slicing my ankles, stifling my every move. Duplicates, triplicates, multiple copies and only 1 copy of each form, sent to various addresses, all labeled with the artist’s name and the title of the proposed program of work or proposed grants program, each asking for the assistance in the development of a socially satirical body of animated atrocities. A little odd isn’t it? As one who spent most of his life perfecting a humanist art form derivative of folktales, street performances and the inspirational chaos conjured out of random experience, the penetration of paper work made me feel as a surreal Sisyphus might if only the boulder was a cabinet of forms which could never be completed. But alas I conquered the nightmare and that work is done.

As the opening description might suggest, the completion of said task was not an easy one. In order to get all this stuff done, and to the best of my abilities, I decided to make a meditation out of the event. I refrained from all drawing, recreational reading, and leisurely use of the internet. The only exceptions would include a late night cartoon or two after I’d exhausted my ability to produce proper essays and forms. I did get into one short discussion about the Justice League on facebook, but it was completely by accident as I actually went there for business purposes (I don’t usually chat on that forum).Abstaining from these small pleasures wasn’t too difficult because they all involve using the computer. After 8- 12 hours of working on the machine the last thing I felt like doing was traveling anywhere online. The most trying factor of the ordeal was suppressing the urge to be creative.

I stayed focused throughout the work but was perpetually taunted by my imagination. As soon as I’d step away or lie down the stories would start to flow, ….a tale of a dead man kept in motion by larvae and vermin feeding on genetically ingrained experiences, missed opportunities, broken dreams and embarrassed emotions… and things like that kept popping into my head. The next page of the comic, the animations, an idea, all crashing at my psyche attempting to overthrow the mathematical and essay driven obligations I’d imposed upon myself. It is certainly a strange battle, the artist, itself an anti-established deviation who throws paint on walls and lives free from all anxieties, forced to wade knee deep through imaginary paperwork in order to continue his mission of making a mess.

Despite the contradictory nature of the artist seeking finance from a world that he/she cannot help but criticize, the process is actually quite logical and certainly fare. Most of the applications require a brief, yet succinct, written account, some visual support material and summarized budget costs. It is amazing how many forms and copies you have to fill out in order to convey that simple information, but in the end if one knows what they want to do, and the work is of any cultural value, then one probably stands a good chance. At any rate finalizing all this organization of materials proved far more rewarding than repulsive and seems to have ended much swifter than it began. Well the letters are all sent and the remaining papers brushed to one side, so I think I’ll spend a day or two cleaning before doing whatever it is I’m going to next. HEY APATHY!