Better Days, Part Deux

Well, here we are again. We aren't moving on to a new comic, that's coming next week. For now, we're revisiting one we've already done. We're going from chapters 14 to 25, hold on to your asses, because from here on shit is going to get *everywhere*.

Jay Naylor is not a smart man. He is can't seperate his own views from his characters. As such, any time any character of any intelligence is faced with a choice, they respond by asking "what would naylor do", and proceeding to lay out the same fucking line every time.

At this point in the comic, Naylor stops pretending Better Days is anything but his soapbox, and by that I mean Ayn Rand's soapbox. Everyone who visibly doesn't fit the Objectivist mould is a complete fucking strawman, with no ambiguity whatsoever.

You Catholic? Never date outside your religion. Also, religion is for retards. Also your overbearing mother is a bitch.

You Jewish? Well you're obviously uncut and never visibly practice your faith. Also your overbearing mother is a bitch.

Black? Or Asian? Or anoyone who isn't visibly white? Just let the magical white man take away all your problems. Also never expect to be a main character. Also your overbearing mother is a terrorist.

An artist? Never do anything but the obvious.

Female? Don't say one thing and do another. WOMEN! Amiritefellas!?!

But if you're a white, randian male? You can get away with fucking anything. You get to be a super spy. The government can't touch you because they suck. You can fire live ammo with no one noticing, beat up all the brown people you want, and win at everything the stupid government failed at!

The comic ends with ...well it just kind of ends. Every character gets a happy ending(unless Naylor forgot they exist), even if it involves a powerless victim gaining an extra two million dollars. FiskNaylor gets the girl and has babbies and they proceed to have inspid little adventures too dull to cover here.

There, now that the actual comic part is over, we can get to the fun bits and make petty personal attacks on the author.

Originally this bit was going to be about 75% of the article, but the evidence I had kind of dissapeared for most of Naylor's bullshit. The time Naylor admits to fucking a dude while claiming to be straight, the information about his horrible foreskin machine, and a thousand little idiocies are all gone forever.

However, I don't need any of that to tell you Naylor is a lying, cheating, cock obsessed scavanger. Jay Nayor is so pathetic he gives E. Coli something to look down on. I don't mean the disease, I mean the boring version. Jay Naylor is the guy literal shit eating specks can't bring themselves to pity.

Jay Naylor saw that a bunch of thirtysomething men were getting into My Little Pony(To each his own, I can't judge or else half my friends list will tear my ribs out). He, in a flash of cosmic irony so perfect that Loki, God of Bullshit and Lies, must have suffered a mild stroke, decided that drawing cartoon ponies was *too furry* and drew them as actual humans.

Then it got posted to 4chan, and every single one of them talked about nothing but how pathetic Naylor was and how even anons that do nothing but talk about which pony looks best in thighhighs were better than him. Even people Naylor seems to think are too furry hate the fuck out of him.

Before my primary reading group decides to cut my fingers off, lets move on to some other stupid things Naylor does. For one thing, he rips off other people's characters. I don't mean internet dick sucking like hopkins, I mean full on bitchfest ripoff stole. To show no hard feelings, he proceeded to rip off another one and make her a love intrest later. And then he makes you pay to watch her get pounded by his uncut randian cock.

As you may have gotten from this, Naylor is an opprotunistic vulture who'll do anything for a quick buck. A quick look to the top of his site show's he doesn't fuck around. Buy his porn, stroke his e-dick, or get the fuck out. His name is in big white letters, framed with cat asses, and a porn ad a quarter the actual page size right next to it. That placement isn't random either, any web design class will tell you the eye follows a specific pattern, which in this case takes you across the cat asses, to his big poofy name, then the porn ad, and only after this gauntlet can you finally find out which cat is fucking which. The only thing he loves more than Ayn Rand is Benjamin Franklin, and it has to be a lot of him.

Also, Objectevist Batman is a fucking terrible superhero.

Jack

Sometimes good people do bad, bad things. Sometimes the best of us make choices we regret for the rest of our lives. This is not one of those times, because dave hopkins is a fucking idiot.

History, Geography, Mythology, and Anatomy are all kinds of necessary for a fantasy comic, even if the main characters are some kind of blue rabbit or red wolf or any other afront to god drawn by hopkins.

Jack, the melty freakshow drawn by Dave, is a lot like an abortion. You get a mix of hope and fear near the beginning, and by the end it's all just this melty fleshy smelly mess that leaves grown men in tears.

On the note of abortion, lets get to the comic. Take a look at page one, and you get a good idea of the other three thousand or so pages, even if you shouldn't. There are no proper straight lines, not even on machinery or geometric shapes. Everything looks soggy and half formed. It's filled with faces that look ready to melt off the head at any given moment.

Not to mention the half assed plot lines. Dave Hopkins has three hooks: Child Molestation, School Shootings, and Serial Killers. With a lineup like that, he probably had to turn down jobs from fox news no less than six times to start his comic. This would be bad in and of itself, but somehow they always manage to always wring out what's supposed to be a happy ending. Everyone who dies goes to heaven or purgatory, and if you do go to hell it's piss easy to try again.

Of course, the whole afterlife punishment is broken as fuck. If you kill a few hundred million people, you get a palace and a bunch of slaves and everything you could ever want exactly how you want it. If you live your life as a shining example of all that is good and forgiving in the world, your wants get twisted into a pack of serial rapists several times bigger than the ones in hell. If you live as an ok guy with a few outbursts, you get to live in the suburbs with a bunch of celestial Jehovah's witnesses coming in to bug you every day forever.

Then there's the big one's, the ones this comic has to adress: God and Satan. According to Dave, god is a thirtysomething anthropomorphic ewe with the personality of a mother as seen by someone who's clearly been raised by negligent farm animals. Then there's Satan, who draws the comic and gets to be Dave's backup fursona. You know, for when an obese, hateful mammal thing that shits itself doesn't cut it. Because nothing says "I want people to respect me" quite like a racoon thing in enough black makeup to make every fourteen year old in the midwest green with envy.

Satan gets to draw the comic, effectivley making his "punishment" the ability to have more effect on creation than god itself. This is probably to make up for the fact that he doesn't seem to have much of an extravagant super palace. Because nothing says "eternal damnation" like "Everlasting wealth and influence".

All in all, the comic has a lot of failings. Character inconsistency, bad logic, predictable plot twists, shitty art. All of them stem from the aformentioned stupidity of the author. Hopkins doesn't know dick all about faces, island chains, warfare, or weapon design, plain bad taste.

Why is he popular? He'll cram your character in the comic with no regard for any sort of consistency. You *could* spend years practicing art, or you could just shout "hey look everybody, it's Fisk Black!"

Speaking of Fisk Black...