1259 The Goggles Do Nothing.


This started as a very small page. Essentially the middle bit was cut out, but it felt incomplete. I wanted to sell Carol’s bright outlook for her future more playfully. I’ve certainly illustrated her desires at various times, although more subtly than with other characters at times. We know she wants to be a mom, we know she wants to be a mom several times, and we know she looks forward to all the things that go along with that. Why she wants that stuff has only been touched on in passing. I’m sure some of you could make a good guess as to why she feels the way she does already though.

Some of it is just the basic genetic imperative that still exists in some women. In spite of the seemingly selfish nature exhibited on the internet, many people, men included, want to have kids in hopes of teaching them values that will help save humanity. They want to be good parents. It’s a worthier goal than is given credit to these days. Not that a person needs a medal for wanting to be a good parent. As they say, you’re not supposed to be lauded for doing something you’re supposed to be doing. Of course taking the time to recognize when someone does something well is also important. I guess you just need to pick the right time and keep the right scale.

Sometimes I hear people say things like “Why would you want to bring a child into a world like this?” Which strikes me as ridiculous. The point of life IS to bring life into the world. Failing that it’s to help life survive. If your choice is to lay down and die then I say get to it. You’re a waste of resources. Something else will come along and make something of whatever you leave behind. The universe is a dangerous place, and the world has always been brutal, but we’re slowly bending it to our will. I choose to contribute to the improvement in whatever way I can.

The Teen made me furious the other day. She’s been on an absolute tear since she’s been out of school and it finally became unbearable. I ticked over to being truly angry with her. Chest pulsing, white hot, fury. The end result was an angry drive home for me, a tearful one for her, and an awkward one for her friend Rainbow Dash. Today I am still boiling with rage just below the surface. It’s a miserable feeling. It’s taken years for me to learn to control my temper, but if I’m pushed constantly for a long enough time there is a point of no return. The problem then becomes the chemical change that takes place in my brain for ages afterward. I have to work my way back down to patience and balance, except once you knock down a dam it’s really hard to hold back the water while you rebuild. A lot of the time it gets redirected to places it shouldn’t go.