So, here I am. A (very) lost and confused teenager who has little to no idea what he’s doing, but he knows he likes science, jokes, and science jokes. I like to think of myself as a pretty funny guy, but the empirical evidence for it is dishearteningly low. So I decided to create a new outlet for my insuppressible desire to tell terrible science, math and literature jokes: a comic of stickmen. And now, I am resorting to write blog posts that likely no-one will ever read.
Wow, I have no life.
Moving on from my depressing lack of social eminence, my comic has got more attention that I had initially anticipated. I mean, I was expecting like 5 people to follow me, and 4 of them would be my friends, and the other would be an instagram bot. But it would seem there are others that actually connect with my sense of humor so much they are willing to expend the Herculean effort of tapping twice and liking my photo, and then tapping once MORE and following me. I didn’t really need validation to continue this comic in the first place, but I can’t deny it feels good having some.
So, about the comic. When it comes to art, my 8th grade art teacher can attest to my startling lack of any artistic proficiency, hence why I use stick figures. If I’m trying to impress someone, I’ll probably make up something about “adopting a minimalist aesthetic to place emphasis on the idea rather than the artwork,” but in reality it’s just because I can’t draw. Then, of course, is the question of the astronauts.
For as long as I can remember, I have been obsessed with space and the cosmos, and since then it’s pretty much become part of my personality and aesthetic. That means listening to space-themed rock bands like Starset, having astronauts as my profile photos on every social media and of course, having astronaut helmets as the main motif of my comic.
I’ve always held an enormous amount of respect for astronauts. They’re the pioneers of mankind’s exploration, daring to venture into frontiers unknown, unwavering in the face of the cosmos’ enormity and indifference. In a way that’s sort of what I’d like to be. Not on a scale as groundbreaking and trailblazing as them, but perhaps emulating some of those qualities in my own life. I’d like to discover things never discovered before, prove theorems never proved before, make jokes never made before. Of course, the path and journey won’t be easy, and I’m bound to mess up and fall down now and then. But I guess this is where I start. An innocuous, little stick-figure comic. My very first Astronomical Blunder.