December 14, 2002

Welcome, new readers! As of this morning it looks like some 2000 lucky souls have joined the ranks of the Schlockers world-wide, lured to their doom by a newsbox promising witty dialog and a big, greenish thing with at least partially undisclosed reproductive mechanisms.

Let me re-state for the old-timers the mission of Schlock Mercenary. I want people to read this, enjoy it, and eventually support me in my retirement. For now, though, I'll settle for the reading and enjoying part. I've got a job that pays my bills quite nicely, and the comic pulls in just enough money to keep it from being classified by the IRS as a hobby, which is to say that it pays for itself.

It also keeps me sane. I just finished one of the most demanding and frustrating weeks I've had in a long time at Novell, where I am (according to a VP I have a lot of respect for) "Master of the Universe" for about a hundred million dollars a year worth of product. Sadly, I control as close to zero of that money as makes no difference -- it's just my job to make sure it keeps coming in.

Anyway, my point. Work has been intensely busy, and I haven't been able to draw a single blasted (or blasting) thing this week. I'm feeling myself sinking into a black, angry sort of corporate, wage-slave despair. This is underscoring how important Schlock Mercenary is to me. It keeps me happy. It relaxes me. It gives me an outlet for what are certainly psychotically anti-social tendencies that I would otherwise have to control with expensive medication and the surreptitious-yet-systematic murder of all who oppose me.

After re-reading that last paragraph, perhaps medication would be a good idea ANYWAY. At the very least, I'm going to stop all this whining and go draw something.

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