Click here for last week’s episode.
Banned for Life – Part 12
by Anya Davidson
For last week’s episode of Band for Life, click here.
Check back next Wednesday for another episode of Blobby Boys! See more VICE Comics here.
For last week’s episode of Flowertown, USA, click here.
VICE Comics – Megg, Mogg, and Owl
Welcome to the newest weekly strip in our ongoing mission to ramp up the number of comics on VICE.com. Thanks to the efforts of Nick Gazin, the man who lurked around the office giving us back rubs for so long we decided to make him art editor, we now have a recurring comic almost every day of the week! Today we are proud to present Megg, Mogg, and Owl, a new comic by Simon Hanselmann that will run on this website every Monday for forever.
Hello, young comic lovers,
This is the premiere of VICE’s new weekly comic, Flowertown USA, by Rick Altergott. Rick is best known for his series Doofus, which is one of the funniest comics about two creeps who are part of a men’s masturbation society and steal their neighbors underwear for their bizarre “naked games” ever created. Get it from Fantagraphics; you won’t regret it.
Right around the time that a lot of Rick’s comic peers were striking it rich, Rick kinda receded from the spotlight and focused on his domestic life. I’ve been trying to lure Rick back into comics for years and have finally succeeded. Flowertown USA is about a quaint American town populated by the most repulsive oddballs you can imagine. It’s a lot like an early John Waters movie. I hope you love it.
VICE’s Art Editor
We’ve republished 13 old-timey medical illustrations and turned them into a multiple choice test that will challenge your knowledge of terrible diseases. It’s like a BuzzFeed quiz with syphilis!
Name! That! Horrifying! Disease!
"If you ain’t from Texas this ain’t the place to be because we’re burning this motherfucker down!” shouted Doughbeezy, the otherwise relentlessly friendly Houston rapper, at a recent show. He looked out over the crowd before him with the steady, combative gaze of a practiced performer. He was playing a larger, South-centric showcase called “Welcome to tha South” at South by Southwest, a time when the music industry as a whole fills Austin with the desperate sprawl of corporate sponsorship and mindless networking. Despite the presence of outsiders, there was a surplus of UT burnt ochre and hands throwing up the state’s longhorn symbol. And a lot of people seemed to know his songs. Like, maybe more than for Que or Ty Dolla $ign, artists on the bill with national radio hits. Most of the people there might have been from Texas—a mixed blessing given the setting.
Theater of Justice: Courtrooms Are Violent Stages Where ‘Justice’ Is Rarely Found
Last week, I sketched an evidentiary hearing for a woman named Cecily McMillan.
Two years ago, I’d seen Cecily convulse in handcuffs as the police shut down an Occupy Wall Street protest. Cecily was an organizer. A plain-clothes cop had grabbed her breast from behind, hard enough to leave a bruise shaped like his handprint. Instinctively, she elbowed him. Most women would do the same if a man grabbed them from behind.
The cops beat Cecily till they broke her ribs. As she had a seizure on the pavement, the crowd screamed for the police to call 911. The police just watched.
Two years later, Cecily is charged with assaulting an officer. She faces seven years in prison.
In that fake-wood courtroom in lower Manhattan, the judge told Cecily’s lawyer the fact that her arresting officer had beaten up other people was not relevant to her case. His records would be sealed. Afterward, addressing her supporters, Cecily tried to hide the tremor in her voice.
Courtrooms are a violent theater. The violence happens off-scene: in Rikers Island where a homeless man recently baked to death; in the shackles and beatings and the years far from everything you love. But the courtroom itself is the performative space, the stage where the best story triumphs, and where all parties, except (usually) the defendant, are just playing parts.