There's a big thick streak of stubborn running through me . I keep going because I like drawing the things that I draw and writing the things that I write. Yet I do seriously consider giving up and the only thing that stops me is the thought of what I'd become without these things in my life. A friend said to me last night that he thought I was desperate for popularity and I replied that's I doubted if that's true. I know that two things do motivate me. The first is money but only because I need money to live. If I had enough to live off, I really wouldn't want a penny more because I already live like a monk and I'm blissfully happy writing and drawing and occasionally programming. Alongside my real work, which I can thankfully do from home, all my other hours are spent creating things. I watch no TV except for the occasional film or some 'background' viewing, such as an online debate or rerun of Steptoe, Hancock or Phil Silvers, I play only the occasional video game, and I read when my eyes aren't tired.
Beyond managing to sustain myself, my real ambition isn't for popularity but simply to be read by a certain intelligent crowd who are cynical, skeptical, but good natured and broadly humanist. I'd like to know that there are a few loyal people enjoy the things I do. I'd much rather be cult that mainstream. It's rather have a few people enjoying everything I do, rather than everybody enjoying just one thing I've done. It's why a regular number of hits on the blog, with plenty of return visitors, pleases me more than one spectacular day of never-to-return visitors.
However, some days, things like this happen to me.
It was hubris, I know, to post that cartoon at The Guardian but I'd thought it quite good. I didn't think it would be the best thing on there but definitely not worthy of being in nearly last place.
Not to disparage another person's efforts but I have to really rethink things if my cartoons are getting ranked lower than this effort.
My friend is probably right. He's one of life's immensely wise and intelligent beings. Perhaps these dumb little 'Recommends' mean more to me than they should and I should really shout, 'Screw them! Screw them all! at the top of my voice' I should let people come here looking for me than searching for an audience whose idea of satire is something like this. Yet if 99% of everything is essentially crap, an ugly realization is slowly dawning that I might be part of the 99%.