How Nigel Farage's Penis Ruined My Day

Damn it. Bollocks. Shit.

I'm swearing because I can. I'm also swearing because Google think this blog might be unsuitable for a family audience. Well, too bloody right. It's not family friendly now and never will be again. Arse. Nuts. Engorged flanges.

You might have noticed a yellow block at the top of the blog yesterday and this morning. I had big plans for that block. I'd hoped it was going to be filled with blonde women advertising bra sales and canoe weekends. I was hoping that advertisers might interest you in their knitted vests and you would click to buy yourself enough woolens for winter and that I would receive a nice commission on that sale. In other words: I'd finally relented and added Google ads to the site. I thought it would generate a little bit of revenue and every penny counts in these hard days in our frigid economy.

Only, I stupidly requested Google Ads on the one day that I'd drawn a penis on the blog and they have now rejected my application on the grounds that this isn't a 'family friendly' site.

I don't think I've ever drawn a penis on this blog in the nine years I've been writing it. I might never draw Nigel Farage's penis again, though, as soon as I type those words, I realise that will now have to draw Nigel Farage's penis again. In fact, I might as well make this blog about nothing other than Nigel Farage's penis. Hell, I might give its own comic strip.

The irony is that wherever I travel on the world worst web, I see many things more disturbing than a tiny drawing of Nigel Farage's penis. Football websites often have Google Ads alongside women fondling their breasts, which I don't take to be a 'bad thing' but certainly not 'family friendly'. However, I have run foul of the Google censors and now I can't even earn a few pence to make this blog feel like a viable concern.

So, like I said... Damn it. Bollocks. And shit.

 ***

If that wasn't bad enough, Nigel Farage's penis is also behind the second reason why I'm having a bad day.

A friend emailed last night to say that he thought I was desperate for popularity and I replied that I doubted if that's true. Beyond managing to sustain myself, my real ambition for writing and cartooning isn't popularity but simply to be read by a certain intelligent crowd who are cynical, sceptical, but good natured and broadly humanist. I'd like to know that there are a few loyal people who enjoy the things I do. I'd much rather be cult than mainstream. I'd rather have a few people enjoying most of what I do, rather than everybody enjoying just one thing.

However, some days, things like this happen to me.

It was hubris, I know, to post that cartoon but I'd thought it quite good. I didn't think it would be the best thing on the site but I definitely didn't think it worthy of being in (almost) 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 shout, 'Screw them! Screw them all!' I should let people come here looking for me than searching for an audience whose idea of satire is something like that.

Needless to say: I now regret drawing Nigel Farage's penis but I know I'll now have to draw it again. I'll have to draw it again and again just so the bastards don't think they've won.

Hubris Strikes Again

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%.