Punx Against Punx #50 Bread Riot Time!

I’d like to take a minute to not talk about gun control. I don’t think it’s a good idea to empower the state to disarm the people, but my idea of freedom isn’t living under the constant watch of armed authorities either. Those seem to be the only options on offer from the holier-than-thou, liberal gun grabbers or for proto-fascist, boner stroking gun industry shills, and I can’t take it anymore. So today, I say we set that thorny issue aside and talk about something that we can all agree on: Donald Trump is a disgusting sack of maggot shit.

Of course, this is true for any number of reasons, but I specifically have in mind his demented rich fuckboi plan to send food stamp recipients boxes of crappy food through the mail instead continuing to let us pick out our own damn groceries.

For those of you with your noses buried too deep in the Bosses’ cornholes to understand what a jackassy, dipshit idea this is, let me explain a little bit about how food stamps work. Basically, employers in this country- I’m talking giant, rich corporations like Walmart and Amazon, but also whatever Scrooge McDuck runs whatever business you work for- want to take all the money that their workers make for them, so they try to pay the workers as little as possible. These companies don’t pay their workers enough money to feed their families. So, in order for the workers to keep creating profit for the bosses and not die of malnutrition, the government gives people money to buy food with. This is a handout to greedy executives who don’t want to pay their workers. The government bails them out so that they can spend the extra money flying overseas to purchase sex with children. That isn’t even a joke. There are markets for child prostitution here in the States and around the world because rich capitalists take corporate jets there to bang little kids. When people are able to amass immoral amounts of wealth, they do immoral things with it.

Now, President Fuckboi in Chief, having already given these depraved, baby-humping titans of Wall Street enough money in his tax break scam to keep the sex slave market humming for the next couple decades, decides he needs to insult those of us who actually have to work for a living by mailing us boxes of spaghetti and cream corn. ‘Cause god forbid we buy Cheetos for our kids. They should be in church learning to work customer service.

Can you see the shit slurping grin on that rich fuckboi’s face as he tells us what we should or should not be allowed to eat? This individual is an intellectually disabled brat who got handed a million dollars when he was a kid and thinks he earned it. This is a self-fellating con man who had the money to get out of trouble no matter how many times he fucked up, and never did an honest day’s work in his worthless life. Now this jizz stain gets to sit in the Oval Office on a solid gold dildo and tell those of us who drag ourselves to shitty jobs every day of our lives, “Hey, no more DiGiorno for you sonsofbitches; you need to learn a work ethic!”

He and his cronies get away with it because, to the basic dickhead out there, food stamps are associated with whatever group of people they think are beneath them. The rich simply tell them, “Hey, the colored people and the hillbillies and the meth-head hillbillies of color are using those food stamps on lobster and cheese whiz,” and the basic, racist dickheads all start banging the drum to hand the rich even more money, to keep it away from us hicks and welfare queens. And what do the fatcat bosses do with that extra money? You already know.

So I say it’s time for bread riots, because we have to take the power away from these pedophiles, these fuckbois, these capitalist vultures who steal our lives to pad their bank accounts. Because to take their power we need to take their property and their wealth, bring on the bread riot. Let’s take over the places we work and start giving everything away, so that the pigs who run this sick system never see another dime. Until we have everything and they have nothing left, bread riot everywhere. Donald Trump and his boys don’t work, they exploit racism to make money, and they have sex with kids. We shouldn’t let them be in charge anymore.

Originally posted on psychosemanticpress.com

The “Lost” Welcome to Kafco strips.

When I first started drawing Welcome to Kafco strips for Global Revolution Comix, I was preoccupied with drawing the artwork for my upcoming graphic novel on labor history.  So I forgot to send these two strips over to Chris McCamic at Global Revolution and, when he launched the site, he ran the third strip I had drawn as “Episode 1,” because it was the first one I sent him.  So, for all the Kafco fans out there, I present the original two Welcome to Kafco comic strips!

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Here in the very first strip, we meet Chuckie and Katelyn, and I manage to reference both Charles Schultz and Franz Kafka in only four panels.  The text that the boss-droid is speaking came out hard to read.  It says, “Greetings, valued new associate, KATELYN2217@KAFCO.JOB.  Your teammate CHARLES9271 will be training you today.  By clicking below, you acknowledge that your employment at Kafco is at will.  Employees are subject to termination or transformation into giant vermin without notice.”

The next strip introduces the character Razzle, an homage to the character played by Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers  in the cult classic punk rock movie Suburbia by Penelope Spheeris, and introduces the idea that Chuckie is trying, very unsuccessfully, to form a union at Kafco, which will become more important as the strip develops.

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Welcome to Kafco #1

The first issue of my new weekly webcomic is up on Global Revolution Comix.  Check them out for other great stuff, including the serialized comic book, The Unionizer.

Does your job suck?  Does negotiating the daily grind of humiliation and bureaucratic absurdity leave you, at the end of every shift, with muscles twitching from exhaustion and a soul mired in a deep chasm of existential dread?

Before you burn the place to the ground, sneak off for a “bathroom break” and spend a minute relaxing with the gang from Kafco, for a look at the lighter side of earning a living in a dystopian hellscape.  LIke working at Kroger in a short story by Franz Kafka, the morning coffee is as bitter as the class struggle, and every cup comes out of your check.

Welcome to Kafco.

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