A year ago, I began what was then a small undertaking. I had always wanted to write and draw comic books. When I was in junior high and high school, my plan was to grow up and make comics. When I was nineteen, that life goal was sidelined by something seemingly more immediate and visceral: music. I spent about twenty years creating and performing music on my own terms and making something of an impact, albeit a small one, on the underground music scene. My songs are known in far flung reaches of the world and some have been covered by groups across the country. Even those who don't particularly like my music know that I do things my way and don't take shit from anyone. In the early days, I was a foot soldier for free speech and fought many a battle on the streets of Jacksonville, FLorida against the Christian Right, the Fundies and the Bible Thumpers. I put on shows with some questionable language, questionable costuming and questionable themes. Flyers for those shows pushed the boundaries and limits of "good taste" and John Waters' film Pink Flamingoes was a big inspiration. Although I've mellowed a bit with age, I recently found that I am still a soldier for the righteousness of free speech.
A year ago, I started working on Tension, a comic book that I had initially intended to share with a few friends and fans who had expressed interest in the visual art I was posting on sites like Facebook and Instagram. It was a quaint story about an ex US Special Forces guy who could absorb and harness dark matter. When I started, I had no idea how to make a comic book. I had no clue about how much work goes into making comics. I slowly learned about plotting, penciling, coloring and lettering. About bookmaking and printing and how making comics is a lot more than drawing some pictures and handing them to a printer. I am thankful for the experience and I have learned so much during the year long process. At some point, I guess, Tension took on a life of it's own and the work I was putting into it became a passion. I decided I wanted to share the finished product with more people than I had initially intended. I launched a thirty day Kickstarter campaign and raised enough money to produce two-hundred copies of the first and second issues along with some promo materials and shirts.
Designing a Kickstarter campaign involves a lot of foresight, planning and invisible math. In my case, much of that invisible math was based on what a single unit would cost based on a price quoted by a printer. After shopping around I found a print company with a price that fit my budget and would allow me to keep the retail price per copy below six-dllars. His price was the best by about two bucks a copy. That's a huge margin. Once the first issue was complete, I met with him to get some technical specifications and discuss a time frame.
He wasn't the most friendly guy but in subsequent meetings (like the time he ran my first proof copy) we began to build a rapport, exchanging insights into each others' lives and we made pleasant small talk. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary; I was under the assumption that we were conducting business in a normal business-like fashion: I contract you to do a job, I give you the job and then I give you some money and then you deliver a product. I think that's how it usually works. Right?
The first proof revealed some technical bugs so we went back and fixed a few things. Because my friend Max Michaels is doing the pre-press layout work on friend-spec it took a week or so. My anticipation was building and I was really excited when I called the printer to let him know we had the final pages ready and would be sending them to him that evening. On Wednesday July 24th I sent him the link to the updated version and he said he would run a proof I could pick up the next morning. The following day I called him at 8:30 am just as he had asked and couldn't get him on the phone. Finally around 9:30 am I tracked him down and he hit me with some news that may as well have been a hammer to the skull. There was a woman in the book "without a top on" as he said it and he couldn't print "that kind of thing" there unless I "put a top on her."
"You're kidding, right?" was my response. I was dumbfounded. Struck literally dumb. I sat there in silence as he went on to further stutter his discomfort with printing "that sort of thing" and I said I'd figure it out. He wouldn't tell me who's call it had been nor would he tell me whether or not it was a rule of the company or if it had something to do with the fact that they print a newspaper there.
My first impulse was to fling my phone across the room and then start punching walls. This guy was telling me to change my art or he wasn't going to print my book. He wasn't a publisher or someone who was paying ME to do something. He was someone I HIRED TO DO A JOB. And because of a price he had quoted me months before he had me by the balls.
I hit Facebook with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop trying to find someone who would help me find another printer, have my back or at least sympathize. Without any slanderous or libeling language. I was devastated. After working on this thing for a year, beating the odds to raise enough money on Kickstarter to facilitate my dream and getting my hopes up I hit a wall. I was so close to completion but the project was stopped dead in its tracks.
I told Max and he was equally shocked. He made some creative edits and I had something I could live with long enough to fulfill my Kickstarter obligations and find another printer. I wasn't at all happy about it and suddenly looked upon my year long project as if it was a tainted, unclean thing with these concessions made toward someone else's standard of decency. I emailed the changes to the printer and played his little phone game long enough to get him to talk to me. I let him know that I had acquiesced to his demands and asked when I could get a proof. That's when he told me without actually telling me that he still may not be printing my book.
At some point during the day prior, someone from my Facebook had taken it upon themselves to call him and ask him about censorship for an article. Somebody had my back. But, that somebody had also helped make my situation worse. I assured him I had no knowledge of the phone call or any article but that it wasn't surprising considering my small but devoted following. He proceeded to insist that his decision wasn't censorship. He said they just didn't print pornography. PORNOGRAPHY?
Once again, I was struck dumb. Until anger loosened my tongue. I asked him how four incidental female breasts constituted pornography. Four incidental breasts in a non-sexual situation. Through a carefully constructed line of questioning I finally got it out of him. His staff were "family men" and shouldn't have to see that kind of thing and he himself was a "family man" and refused to print pornography and wouldn't have that in the building. There was that fucking word again! PORNOGRAPHY! Now, I've seen my fair share of pornography and I'm pretty sure I know it when I see it and this ain't it. So, in the mind of a man who is obviously basing his determination of what is and isn't acceptable for printing on religious underpinnings, four bare breasts are pornographic.
These are cartoon breasts, mind you. Not photographs. And one of the questionable pages features the woman to which these questionable breasts are attached being chained to an operating table by a man who is eating her entrails right out of her exposed body cavity. That was not a problem for him. It was the breasts. This is indicative of a much larger epidemic of fucked up, backward thinking. This is indicative of a problem I've been railing against here in Jacksonville, Florida for a long, long time. When I bitch about this town it's not the awesome local business, the burgeoning local music scene, the stunted gallery scene or the ungodly traffic.
This closed-mindedness and Bible-based ignorance almost nullifies all things good and progressive in Jacksonville. This town will never advance beyond the Dark Ages of persecution, bigotry and fear-mongoring The South is known and reviled for unless people are forced to realize they are being stifled by the church. And the church has to be made to see that they cannot control everyone around them. There is a growing number of "Christians" who believe it is their God given right and duty to govern the world around them and edit that world until it fits neatly within their ideological constraints. They attempt, quite successfully, to make sure they never have to feel uncomfortable. What's scary is how easily this is done. Everybody around here knows the First Baptist church runs this city like a cartoon crime family. I don't know to which church he belongs but this printer didn't have to rely on a law or a precedent of any kind to try and silence me. All he had to do was say "No." and I was fucked.
Why is it so important to show those four bare female breasts in a comic book? Am I just being a brat because someone told me "no"? Why is it such a big deal that one person thought he could silence the free voice of another based so obviously upon religious beliefs?
Tension has taken on more purpose than just telling the tale a of guy in tight pants hitting things and using super-powers to strike down bad guys. Long before the incident with said printer occurred, the characters in Tension became living, breathing entities with needs and aspirations mirroring our own. The struggles they face are symbolic, in some ways, of what you and I go through every day. Tension could be a vehicle for social good and helping people deal with their shit. But without freedom to tell these stories explicitly, I can't benefit anyone.
Issue two introduces a few new characters, among them are Zoe and Evelyn, two young women who live together and argue about bills and money. What if my printer decided to shut the whole thing down in the future because of what those two characters obviously are? If some cartoon titties freak him out I imagine the subject of a lesbian relationship would make his head explode. And its not like I feel the need to portray them in a sexual situation. But, I need to freedom to do so if ever the necessity arises. If something advances the story and maybe gives a reader something with which to identify and emote, free speech is requisite.
Fortunately, I managed to find another printer through Facebook and they seem delighted to have my business and help me get my art out into the world. They matched the old printer's price and actually reviewed the material beforehand, finding nothing "pornographic" or obscene in my work. And, it seems a victory to me that the company is owned by a woman. So, with that I would like to thank Ruth Murr, Brian Squillace and the crew at PrintingEdge of Jacksonville, Florida, in the mighty US of A for saving Tension and working to make it the best it can be.
We live in a great nation with the ability to express ourselves. We are allowed to voice grievances with our leaders, our military and our peers without reprisal. We are all granted the freedom to live and thrive without fear of anyone infringing upon our civil rights. The Constitution, and the Bill of Rights guarantee it. So, when someone underhandedly violates those rights, you can be fucking certain I will come out swinging.
A year ago, I started working on Tension, a comic book that I had initially intended to share with a few friends and fans who had expressed interest in the visual art I was posting on sites like Facebook and Instagram. It was a quaint story about an ex US Special Forces guy who could absorb and harness dark matter. When I started, I had no idea how to make a comic book. I had no clue about how much work goes into making comics. I slowly learned about plotting, penciling, coloring and lettering. About bookmaking and printing and how making comics is a lot more than drawing some pictures and handing them to a printer. I am thankful for the experience and I have learned so much during the year long process. At some point, I guess, Tension took on a life of it's own and the work I was putting into it became a passion. I decided I wanted to share the finished product with more people than I had initially intended. I launched a thirty day Kickstarter campaign and raised enough money to produce two-hundred copies of the first and second issues along with some promo materials and shirts.
Designing a Kickstarter campaign involves a lot of foresight, planning and invisible math. In my case, much of that invisible math was based on what a single unit would cost based on a price quoted by a printer. After shopping around I found a print company with a price that fit my budget and would allow me to keep the retail price per copy below six-dllars. His price was the best by about two bucks a copy. That's a huge margin. Once the first issue was complete, I met with him to get some technical specifications and discuss a time frame.
He wasn't the most friendly guy but in subsequent meetings (like the time he ran my first proof copy) we began to build a rapport, exchanging insights into each others' lives and we made pleasant small talk. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary; I was under the assumption that we were conducting business in a normal business-like fashion: I contract you to do a job, I give you the job and then I give you some money and then you deliver a product. I think that's how it usually works. Right?
The first proof revealed some technical bugs so we went back and fixed a few things. Because my friend Max Michaels is doing the pre-press layout work on friend-spec it took a week or so. My anticipation was building and I was really excited when I called the printer to let him know we had the final pages ready and would be sending them to him that evening. On Wednesday July 24th I sent him the link to the updated version and he said he would run a proof I could pick up the next morning. The following day I called him at 8:30 am just as he had asked and couldn't get him on the phone. Finally around 9:30 am I tracked him down and he hit me with some news that may as well have been a hammer to the skull. There was a woman in the book "without a top on" as he said it and he couldn't print "that kind of thing" there unless I "put a top on her."
"You're kidding, right?" was my response. I was dumbfounded. Struck literally dumb. I sat there in silence as he went on to further stutter his discomfort with printing "that sort of thing" and I said I'd figure it out. He wouldn't tell me who's call it had been nor would he tell me whether or not it was a rule of the company or if it had something to do with the fact that they print a newspaper there.
My first impulse was to fling my phone across the room and then start punching walls. This guy was telling me to change my art or he wasn't going to print my book. He wasn't a publisher or someone who was paying ME to do something. He was someone I HIRED TO DO A JOB. And because of a price he had quoted me months before he had me by the balls.
I hit Facebook with all the finesse of a bull in a china shop trying to find someone who would help me find another printer, have my back or at least sympathize. Without any slanderous or libeling language. I was devastated. After working on this thing for a year, beating the odds to raise enough money on Kickstarter to facilitate my dream and getting my hopes up I hit a wall. I was so close to completion but the project was stopped dead in its tracks.
I told Max and he was equally shocked. He made some creative edits and I had something I could live with long enough to fulfill my Kickstarter obligations and find another printer. I wasn't at all happy about it and suddenly looked upon my year long project as if it was a tainted, unclean thing with these concessions made toward someone else's standard of decency. I emailed the changes to the printer and played his little phone game long enough to get him to talk to me. I let him know that I had acquiesced to his demands and asked when I could get a proof. That's when he told me without actually telling me that he still may not be printing my book.
At some point during the day prior, someone from my Facebook had taken it upon themselves to call him and ask him about censorship for an article. Somebody had my back. But, that somebody had also helped make my situation worse. I assured him I had no knowledge of the phone call or any article but that it wasn't surprising considering my small but devoted following. He proceeded to insist that his decision wasn't censorship. He said they just didn't print pornography. PORNOGRAPHY?
Once again, I was struck dumb. Until anger loosened my tongue. I asked him how four incidental female breasts constituted pornography. Four incidental breasts in a non-sexual situation. Through a carefully constructed line of questioning I finally got it out of him. His staff were "family men" and shouldn't have to see that kind of thing and he himself was a "family man" and refused to print pornography and wouldn't have that in the building. There was that fucking word again! PORNOGRAPHY! Now, I've seen my fair share of pornography and I'm pretty sure I know it when I see it and this ain't it. So, in the mind of a man who is obviously basing his determination of what is and isn't acceptable for printing on religious underpinnings, four bare breasts are pornographic.
These are cartoon breasts, mind you. Not photographs. And one of the questionable pages features the woman to which these questionable breasts are attached being chained to an operating table by a man who is eating her entrails right out of her exposed body cavity. That was not a problem for him. It was the breasts. This is indicative of a much larger epidemic of fucked up, backward thinking. This is indicative of a problem I've been railing against here in Jacksonville, Florida for a long, long time. When I bitch about this town it's not the awesome local business, the burgeoning local music scene, the stunted gallery scene or the ungodly traffic.
This closed-mindedness and Bible-based ignorance almost nullifies all things good and progressive in Jacksonville. This town will never advance beyond the Dark Ages of persecution, bigotry and fear-mongoring The South is known and reviled for unless people are forced to realize they are being stifled by the church. And the church has to be made to see that they cannot control everyone around them. There is a growing number of "Christians" who believe it is their God given right and duty to govern the world around them and edit that world until it fits neatly within their ideological constraints. They attempt, quite successfully, to make sure they never have to feel uncomfortable. What's scary is how easily this is done. Everybody around here knows the First Baptist church runs this city like a cartoon crime family. I don't know to which church he belongs but this printer didn't have to rely on a law or a precedent of any kind to try and silence me. All he had to do was say "No." and I was fucked.
Why is it so important to show those four bare female breasts in a comic book? Am I just being a brat because someone told me "no"? Why is it such a big deal that one person thought he could silence the free voice of another based so obviously upon religious beliefs?
Tension has taken on more purpose than just telling the tale a of guy in tight pants hitting things and using super-powers to strike down bad guys. Long before the incident with said printer occurred, the characters in Tension became living, breathing entities with needs and aspirations mirroring our own. The struggles they face are symbolic, in some ways, of what you and I go through every day. Tension could be a vehicle for social good and helping people deal with their shit. But without freedom to tell these stories explicitly, I can't benefit anyone.
Issue two introduces a few new characters, among them are Zoe and Evelyn, two young women who live together and argue about bills and money. What if my printer decided to shut the whole thing down in the future because of what those two characters obviously are? If some cartoon titties freak him out I imagine the subject of a lesbian relationship would make his head explode. And its not like I feel the need to portray them in a sexual situation. But, I need to freedom to do so if ever the necessity arises. If something advances the story and maybe gives a reader something with which to identify and emote, free speech is requisite.
Fortunately, I managed to find another printer through Facebook and they seem delighted to have my business and help me get my art out into the world. They matched the old printer's price and actually reviewed the material beforehand, finding nothing "pornographic" or obscene in my work. And, it seems a victory to me that the company is owned by a woman. So, with that I would like to thank Ruth Murr, Brian Squillace and the crew at PrintingEdge of Jacksonville, Florida, in the mighty US of A for saving Tension and working to make it the best it can be.
We live in a great nation with the ability to express ourselves. We are allowed to voice grievances with our leaders, our military and our peers without reprisal. We are all granted the freedom to live and thrive without fear of anyone infringing upon our civil rights. The Constitution, and the Bill of Rights guarantee it. So, when someone underhandedly violates those rights, you can be fucking certain I will come out swinging.
.JPG)
