I’ve been thinking a lot in the past few years about bear baiting: the old practice of tying up a bear and fucking with it and torturing it and making it fight and just generally being inhumane. For entertainment.

This kind of shit was very popular in Shakespeare’s day. Right alongside the poetry and immortal works of Shakespeare, people were gathering to watch animals be destroyed.

It was kind of like their reality TV. In fact, that’s exactly it. Especially as the government floats ideas in earnest, like a reality show where immigrants compete for citizenship. I assume the losers on such a program would be sent to concentration camps. And I’m also completely sure it would get huge ratings.

Because human beings are predators. Even you. We sublimate it as best we can, but there is no eradicating that part of you that enjoys watching someone be devoured. There is managing it. There is redirecting it. There is dulling it. But it’s part of what comprises us

And if we don’t reckon with that, those who are truly evil will not stop fucking with that button. Because we won’t know it’s there, and they can turn us into soldiers for their evil causes. And we’ll fucking enjoy it. It will entertain us. And that it’s entertainment will make us believe it’s innocuous.

I know, because it’s what has already happened. It’s why we are where we are. All day long, we entertain with bear baiting and savagery.

We don’t need to hate ourselves for being a predator species. It simply is. It’s not a moral issue. But we have to manage and control it and first of all, acknowledge it.

There was a day I saw my cat joyfully chase a butterfly, then bat it around, then look quite offended when it tried to escape. “Hey, wait! I thought we were friends!” He caught the butterfly and ate it with a smile. He loved that butterfly. His love was genuine. He loved how the butterfly struggled just for him.

People, such as myself, are always saying things like, “Art is truth and truth hurts (bitch)” and we think we’re all deep and shit.

But it’s like this: either you are watching bear baiting and telling yourself it’s just fun entertainment, or you are watching something that lifts the veil and shows you the truth of your savagery.

In the former, you get to keep watching bears be tortured. Which you like. You also get to tell yourself you are a good person who just likes things that everyone likes.

In the latter, you will likely not go see bear-baiting anymore. You will also have to reckon with your more unseemly aspects and acknowledge them.

Guess which one people are more willing to pay for? Here’s a hint: it’s the one that keeps us cheering on gratuitous violence.

But the one where you confront yourself is the one that actually heals the parts that hurt, and allows us to create systems that work, and the one where you are relieved of confusion, and the one where you benefit holistically. It satisfies –it doesn’t just tickle. Which gives you control, and keeps you from being pushed around so much. And not feeling so pushed around makes you a little less blood thirsty.

It’s IMPERATIVE, that we FUND THE ARTS. Especially BECAUSE it is unprofitable.

Things that are unprofitable are unprofitable because they are NOT manipulating you. Duh. That’s a GOOD thing.

Humans love to be fooled. Don’t ask me why, but we actually enjoy it. We feel offended when we see bad actors. We’re more offended by a hack job than we are by being taken. “You really had me going there!” Is always said with a smile. We eat it up. We love it. Sweep us off our feet, please!

It’s why we hate beggars. Why we hate sex workers. Why we hate gay people. Why we hate fat people. Why we are offended at a lack of shame about what is natural. “I spend my days, all day, hiding who I am, and you just come right out with it? You just show the world as it is? Who the fuck are YOU? FUCK YOU! ITS LIKE YOU’RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO HIDE THE TRUTH! You put it all on us to keep up the facade! Why can’t you just be nice?”

Because it’s a nice thing to do, on a Sunday afternoon, to gather with your friends and watch bears be tortured.

Or high school kids get their brains knocked around.

Or someone be deported.

I’ve gotten myself into a conundrum, being online, where my struggle to find funding for the arts is the entertainment I provide.

My whole life, whenever I tell people my struggle, they tell me I am strong and they are rooting for me.

But I am not a thing you watch and root for: I am a thing with which you interact.

But no one will interact with me. They will only watch me struggle, bat me around, and then say, “Hey, wait! I thought we were friends!” And when I’m devoured, they will say, “What a great ending.”

I am an excellent artist in multiple disciplines. I have value to put into the world that you don’t want to miss. 

But I cannot. Do it. Alone.

I’m not begging. I am telling you, our ability to support each other, and engage with each other, and prioritize building that which SUPPORTS truth and democracy is what will determine whether we get out of fascism.

Poverty is not a circumstance or an attitude: it is a prison. One has to be let out.

Everyone has always been completely sure that someone else will let me out. And no one ever has. They just keep watching. I struggle so well. This is what an artist does: portrays struggle. I cannot help but do it, and you cannot help but watch.

But if I am completely alone, you will watch me die. That isn’t a threat. That is how it will be. Because to be on the street in 2025 is to be defenseless.

I have a way for you to invest in my work, and to invest in my future work and invest in your own humanity.

It’s our version of store credit. It’s called SmutBones (heh). And it’s a way for you to turn what would be donor dollars into a little art and crafts savings account for yourself. You can redeem your bones for anything I list for sale here. Including commission work.

It makes it possible for me to do things that are important, but which aren’t seeking profit. And it’s a great way for you to support the human economy–not the corporate one.

Not to mention, my perfume is gorgeous. It’s just a damn fact. My crafts are whimsical –you will be delighted.

And in between the sugar, you’ll get the medicine for free.

And I know I have a knack for being bitter.

Just, as an aside…my cat died on my lap the other day, on the way to the vet. He was a little off. He then was panting a lot. He didn’t eat for a couple of days, so I called a friend to come get me to take him to the vet, and on the way there, he just…died. He was four. I have no idea what the fuck happened.

I guess that’s just to say…I’m having a very fucking hard time right now. How’s that for a fundraising slogan?

I am brash and aggressive and talk too much and tell the truth in  uncomfortable situations, and blah blah blah blah blah. I’ve fucking heard it. I’m not grateful enough. I make it all about me —

But that’s not fucking it. I scream loudly because no one will hear me. I tell the truth because we are marching towards our deaths and we don’t have to, if we just fucking LOOK AT EACH OTHER. I am very fucking grateful for every gesture that has sustained me–but I cannot pretend it is enough when it is not. And it is not. But this is not about me–If it were, I would steal or cheat or politic to get my way and I don’t. I am my own loud, brash, truthful self because if you cannot reckon with me, you cannot reckon at all, and if you cannot reckon at all, you will be oppressed.

You do not have to take up arms to fight fascism. You can begin by building stability where it is lacking. Directly. Person to person.

We do it for each other, or it isn’t done.

The politicians WANT the bear baiting. Can’t you see it? It’s up to us to seek the truth, to redirect ourselves away from endless war. To manage our own predatory urges.

For goodness sake, help me.

I’m sorry, I love you, but fuck.

Get your SmutBones