If you’re making, you’re making a mess. You’ll never get it right the first time. Anne Lamott calls these “shitty first drafts.” They’re part of the process, so resist the temptation to erase these attempts, unusable as they might be.

Instead, let them become the soil. Creation is easier when you think of it as revision—everything is a remix, anyway. Your first attempts are the map. The mess is part of the method.

Don’t hide these drafts in the basement, neither. You can be fancy and curate them, as though you needed to present them at trial to prove you suffered for your craft. Or, if the courtroom metaphor invokes anxiety, imagine you’re leaving fodder for future historians trying to make sense of your work.

But be warned. Trying to convince future historians that you’re enlightened is pointless, manipulative, and impossible:

It’s not the point of art to age well, because no one can predict the future. The truth is what you believe for now, and art is a reflection of “what you believe for nows” across the infinite smear of nows we call time. The word “Shaboozey” could be a slur in 2928. It’s not the point of art to age well, because no one can predict the future.
–Don't be so hard on the past

You keep your drafts to see how you work. Wading into failure is prickly curriculum, but your first attempts are the purest map of a mind. It’s forensic evidence of your thinking. A place to learn your patterns, your stuck points, your breakthroughs. Maybe you’ll become an enthusiast of your own weird process. Embrace the clunk.

At the very least, it’s a reminder that no one gets it right the first time. Every finished work is a granite mountain of failure called history, topped with a faint dusting of “done.”

I saw a cool moth Cool red moth And I made some duck And I made chocolate chunk halva cookies And I played Gangs of Commorragh

Rainbow’s End

Some friends are hosting an art event at Dermafilia Gallery tonight, and I wanted to help spread the word. The event features a book signing by Nikhil Singh, with live art being made by Red Apple Comics, Dr. Humbert, and Lili .F.

At a time when many local posters are being made with AI-generated images (gross!), it’s refreshing to see the Club Ded show take the punk route: wheatpasted, hand-drawn posters. Each poster is large, one-of-a-kind, and created by the artists involved in the event. I love seeing these in the neighborhood, so I wanted to document as many as I could here:

Club Ded, live art and book signing, is September 13th, 2025 at Dermafilia Gallery (3182 21st SF, CA) from 7pm to midnight.

The post Club Ded – Live Art and Book Signing Tonight in SF appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

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This weekend we biked over to Pier 70, ate at Breadbelly, went to the climbing gym, and randomly saw bands playing metal music at Warm Water Cove. It was one of those nice aimless weekends where everything just works out. Oh and then we played a game of Gangs of Commorragh afterward

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I was rewatching Battlestar Galactica recently, and this Commander Adama quote from season 1, episode 2 (“Water”) jumped out at me:

“There’s a reason you separate the military and the police. One fights the enemies of the state, the other serves and protects the people. When the military becomes both, the enemies of the state tend to become the people.”

-William Adama, Battlestar Galactica (2004)

With Trump sending the military into more and more cities, the line feels more relevant than ever. So I turned it into a sticker. If you’d like the design, it’s free to use. As a subtle nod to Battlestar Galactica, I recommend clipping the corners.

Above image is CCBY Doc Pop. Feel free to use it for stickers or whatever.

The post Battlestar Galactica and the Danger of Militarized Policing appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

Last week, Trump federalized D.C.’s police department and sent federal officers and National Guard troops to patrol the city. The next day, a local man named Sean Charles Dunn shouted “Fuck you, fascists!” at a squad of overly militarized goons, then hurled a pastrami sandwich at them before making his getaway.

This guy, his Sandwich Guy, has quickly become a symbol of resistance in D.C. and across the U.S. Partly because his act reminds us that everyday people can and should resist fascism, but mostly because it’s fucking hilarious. A dude in a pink polo, armed with nothing but a Subway sandwich, standing up to goons in tactical gear? Instant icon.

I loved the imagery so much, I drew a couple of Sandwich Guy pieces in my cyan-and-magenta style on aged paper:

And since folks on Mastodon and Threads asked for stickers, I also made a cleaned-up digital version. The image below is CC-BY, so you can print it, share it, or slap it on a sign, just give credit when possi.

The post Sandwich Guy: A Modern Day Folk Hero appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

Replace the fluorescent dawn of a maternity ward with the wash of an ink-blue sky. You start life in a soccer field. Bright bleacher lights, the crowd’s waterfall roar. You step to a line in cleats and give the ball one swift kick. That's the length of your life. There are no do-overs.

Everything comes to an end. You train for endings by trading linguistic simulations called stories. All stories have an end (except for your mother's), and you couldn’t want it any other way.

Even television used to close each night with the national anthem and a test pattern. Today, you thirst for firehose. You want your favorite stories to run forever, your relationships to never change, your routines to remain permanently satisfying. You ask “and then what happened?” and the algorithms deliver, forever. Permanence is the enemy of meaning. Never trust a story that promises “forever.”

Not all endings are the same.

They can be drama: the shouty you-can't-take-that-back pronouncements, punctuated by door slams. They can be delicate: the gradual transition of your friend group into parents while Hey Jude plays. They can be doom: when you are locked out of your country, by bureaucracy, never to return.

This isn't the last post, but it is the beginning of the end.

The reason is simple: I'm writing a book. These microprinciples are starting to feel different. They are no longer the rehydrated post-its that inspired this project. They long to become something else. I feel them changing under my fingers.

(If you're interested in providing feedback on early drafts, you should let me know.)

This might feel like a Midwest goodbye—the kind where you announce your departure but linger in the foyer for 45 minutes. I'll keep posting until I don't. The remaining notes might taste different, like your favorite donut shop changed the recipe. You won’t see it coming. Equal parts drama and fade away.

Not all endings are the same, but in a sense they all are. Endings are the acknowledgment of heartbreak. The force that turns every story into something you can hold.

Jonathan Lee makes silly short yo-yo videos for youtube and Instagram. His latest one is a funny little tribute to…. ME! So I thought I’d share it here.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by yoyoshopsg (@yoyoshopsg)

The post “I want to be a doctor” appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

I honestly think creme brulee is the perfect dessert. The Platonic ideal of desserts. I have to limit myself and not make them all the time because that would be very bad for me. Unfortunately they are also very easy to make. So this therefore takes self-control. Laziness is not sufficient to keep me away … Continue reading "Creme Brulee"

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You check your inbox for an invitation to your dream. An acceptance letter. A job offer. A shiny golden ticket. A “yes” that transforms everything.

No invitation is coming, because you’re not invited to fulfill your dreams. All manifestation is a form of trespassing over fence and unmarked trail. It’s messy. You will have to find your own way. Especially if you have interesting dreams; how could it be otherwise?

Dreams are nebulous. Vision concretizes. A plan connects a vision to a territory, but you cannot plan everything—you only see as far as your headlights. So you start to trek and along the way, unplanned opportunities appear. Are they distractions or are they shortcuts? Here’s how to choose:

1. If the alternative between options is doing nothing, do the thing that’s not nothing.

2. If the alternatives are both equally compelling, choose the path that’s harder in the short term1. (That’s your invitation.)

The harder path bends time because it confronts you with the inevitable before you are ready, which is the fastest way to learn. If you wait until you are ready, it’s too late.

Familiar paths endorse comfort, and you know how we feel about that. Even if all you discover is “I hate this,” now you know. Lessons travel in packs and opportunities beget opportunities.

You increase what is known by venturing into the unknown. You make your dreams real, literally, by making them. No one is coming to save you. No invitation is coming. You must write it all yourself. It’s usually the harder path.

For all fantasy costumes, the makeup is the hardest part for me. I am so bad at makeup. So I decided to practice the makeup a few times before the group costume. An attempt was made. It’s… ok I guess. The most important thing is that we have fun, right? (╥﹏╥)

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You’re about to eat an oyster for the first time. You might hate it, you might fall in love. There is no neutral. Either way, every experiment changes you.

An experiment is a question you ask of the universe. Sometimes the answer is yes or no. Usually the reply is hazy, because the the universe is not binary. Each experiment teaches you something new.

More than your tolerance for bivalves, you’ll learn your orientation around disgust, and your comfort with the unknown.

There is no getting it right the first time, so aim for getting it different each time. Murder your first born ideas. Every experiment adds to your catalog of what’s possible, what’s worth pursuing. You’re collecting mistakes, and mistakes are more than acceptable.

This is true for your health and your craft.

To learn to write, you must write poorly first. But more than that: you must be willing to become someone who is comfortable with writing poorly. At least for a little while.

Experiments might look like “waste,” but they’re the slow accumulation of courage. The waste is what works. Each experiment makes the next one easier. Repetition breeds affection. Each failure expands your capacity for risk.

It doesn’t matter whether you like oysters. It’s about becoming someone brave enough to find out.

Ferragosto at the Base of Mt. Etna

A friend wants to do a group cosplay of tieflings and I think it sounds fun so I will try to pull something together! I will post updates as they come. Honestly, for ease and comfort, I’m thinking of just wearing standard ren faire clothes, and doing the tiefling makeup. All choices will be made … Continue reading "Group Costume Plans"

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The old trombones used to say “Just say no to drugs.” Sorry grandpa, everything is “drugs.” Sugar, love, exercise, your job, your fame, your souvenir shot glasses, and even precious ideas on the internet, light as a feather. Everything you munch—physically or mentally—changes your body and mind. That’s what drugs do.

Because all drugs have side effects, you are advised to find the minimum effective dose. Even for ideas, light as a feather.

You already do this with medicine. You take two aspirin, not twenty. But boy howdy, you’re reckless with memes, images, and words. You doom-scroll for hours. You binge television. You gorge podcasts until your apartment is spotless.

You don’t give your brain a minute to rest, let alone process, the drugs.

Turn off the firehose once in a while. This is why you’re cranky. Look out your window. Nothing is on fire. It’s the drugs. They’re working.

There’s no FDA for the internet. No sticker telling you that consuming daily outrage will rewire your baseline. No warning that basking in aesthetic will leave you chronically dissatisfied. Nary a mention that rapidly combing your eyes over a glowing screen for over five hours a day might be less than nutritious.

Choose your substances wisely. Know your dealer. Do the right amount. Consumption is never neutral, especially when the drugs are free.

I think Hajime Miura’s winning routine from this year’s World Yo-Yo Contest might be one of the most iconic yo-yo freestyles of all time! Here’s why:

First off, the music choice was bold. While most performers go for upbeat, bass-heavy tracks, Hajime chose a minimal ambient soundtrack with light percussion, letting the gasps and cheers from the crowd fill the empty spaces.

Second, the flow is unreal. 3A can sometimes feel overly technical, with long setup times, but here everything moves seamlessly—no wasted motions, just smooth, continuous play.

Third, the variety is outstanding. Plenty of eye catching “big tricks”, with segments of intricate tech, but those regens at 1:22 are what really blew my mind. Blurring the lines between 2A and 3A.

And as if all that wasn’t enough, there’s the comeback story. Hajime held the WYYC 3A title for seven straight years before Minato Furuta claimed the division in 2024. It felt like a heartbreaking moment; one that could have sent Hajime into retirement. Instead, he came back stronger than ever, delivering the best performance of his career.

The post The Most Iconic Yo-Yo Routine Of All Time? appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

I started yet another playthrough of the cRPG Rogue Trader because I wanted to play the latest DLC that came out (Lex Imperialis). I thought, maybe this time will be the time I finally roll something besides a Crime Lord. But the new companion is a cop, so I couldn’t pass up the potential hilarity … Continue reading "Sucked back in…"

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In the pygmy forest in Northern California, special trees grow. Leached of nutrients, the acidic soil twists native plants into alien shapes like bonsai. The familiar cypress resembles a Joshua tree. It’s not unexpected. You are what you read, you are what you eat, who you meet, and you are the ground beneath your feet.

Soil can twist you into improbable shapes.

Consider the honor-roll student nabbed for shoplifting. You see a criminal in the making. You might miss the absent parents or empty refrigerator. His soil is scarcity.

Or the manager who refuses to take sick day. You see a workaholic. You might miss the childhood where worth was measured in gold stars. Her soil is performance anxiety, fertilized with conditional love.

Soil shapes everything—what nutrients flow freely, what threats must be survived, what adaptations are essential. A mind formed in chaos learns to scan for danger. A mind formed in safety remains open. Like the acid-soaked cypress, neither chooses its shape.

You grow toward the light you can find.

Though we are born in different soil, we are all connected by the implacable will to survive.

I got some Kenwood Estates wine from 1977 and it was maybe a bit too old, but still tasty and a fun experience to drink something so old. K&L wines has some very old wines at very reasonable prices if you’re willing to take the risk! I would definitely try something like this again. It … Continue reading "Billy Wine"

Mission: Dance @ Lumen Labs

Hot on the heels of Mission: Dance and Mission: Dance 2 (Jungle Boogaloo), Jesse Keith and I drop a mix from the Bay Area’s favorite early evening dance party.

Today is #BandcampFriday, where the folks at Bandcamp forgo their cut and all the proceeds of the sale go directly to the artist, so I’m sharing a few of my favorite recent artists/albums:

Upchuck

Furious punk energy straight out of Atlanta. Their last few singles are raw, urgent, and super catchy. The band’s sound changes a bit from song to song, which is rad. Lots of good genres blending together. I’m so excited about their upcoming album, I’m Nice Now, coming out in two months.

Bandcamp link https://upchuckatl.bandcamp.com/album/plastic

Wet Leg

Witty, weird, and wildly catchy. UK indie-rock blending deadpan delivery with danceable post-punk pop. Their recent Tiny Desk Concert was fantastic.

Bandcamp link https://wetleg.bandcamp.com/

Die Spitz

Austin-based band unleashing grungy, heavy rock with chaotic femme-fronted swagger.

Bandcamp link https://diespitz.bandcamp.com/

Chlo The God

Genre-bending brilliance from a rising voice in alternative R&B and hip hop. Dreamy, sharp, and experimental.

Bandcamp link https://chlothegod.bandcamp.com/

The post My #BandcampFriday Picks for August appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

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What performers know and critics resist, is that life is a performance.

Performance isn’t a bad word, by the way, it means the undertaking of duty. In this life you will don many costumes. Many chances to play many roles. Artist. Writer. Poet. Nurse. Lover. Rebel. Performer. Critic. You.

But not every role is meant for you. At first, this bums you out. But if the glove don’t fit, don’t curse the glove. Don’t curse your hand either. You may not yet be ready, or perhaps you never will be. You can’t do everything.

You may never learn that second language. You might never find work/life balance. You might never be the life of the party. That’s OK. You’re only human.
–You Can’t Do Everything

So then you look within and see an ensemble of players in medias res. It turns out you already contain many roles. And they don’t always get along.

There’s that one voice on a quest. How noble. Another voice prods him with resistance. How rude. So they duel. “You should write more” squares off against “You have nothing of value to say.” A third voice pleads from the back, “Stop fighting, let’s get ice cream.” A fourth one asks himself, “Could this be a microprinciple?”

You are witness to your own drama.

But there’s a twist in the third act. When you bring your adversary closer, your inner swordplay comes to resemble dancing. A musical number! This is enlightenment; the easeful embodiment of performance. Should you chance to glimpse it, all performance disappears. The costumes fall away.

All that remains is you.

I’ve often seen the meme of two guys eagerly pointing at something behind them, but I never knew its origin until very recently. The meme, which is drawn in a simple black and white art style (like the Wojak memes), is often used to mock people. Implying, I guess, that being excited about something is lame.

The meme is based on a photo of two guys excitedly pointing at a sign for meatless chicken nuggets at KFC. The photo was posted in late 2020 by John Oberg, an animal rights activist who was genuinely excited about a new veggie snack option.

I learned all of this while I was working on drawing the “two men pointing” meme in my style. I asked online what the men should be pointing at, and Nick suggested René Magritte’s “The Treachery of Images” (also known as the “This is not a pipe” painting). Which led to my version, “The Treachery of Chicken Nuggies”:

The post The Origin Of the “Two Guys Pointing” Meme (plus A Fan Remix) appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

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I like to keep an eye out for cool shapes during my walks and use them as inspiration for my #SidewalkFriends drawings. It’s like my version of hunting for Pokémon.

Today’s sketch is angry robot, inspired by an alarm system outside the local Salvation Army building.

Today’s #SidewalkFriends sketch: a robot inspired by the security system behind our local Salvation Army shop. #procreateart

— Doctor M. Popular (@docpop) 2025-07-12T17:34:47.931Z

The post #SidewalkFriends: Salvation Robot appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

I like to keep an eye out for cool shapes during my walks and use them as inspiration for my #SidewalkFriends drawings. It’s like my version of hunting for Pokémon.

Today’s sketch is angry robot, inspired by an alarm system outside the local Salvation Army building.

Today's #SidewalkFriends sketch: an operatic singer inspired by a photo of some green paint on the pavement. #ProcreateArt

— Doctor M. Popular (@docpop) 2025-07-24T19:45:46.039Z

The post #SidewalkFriends: Opera appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

When you tell someone they are smart, you hand them a trophy that needs protecting forever. In a now-famous experiment, Dr. Carol Dweck discovered just how heavy that trophy can be.1

The experimenters doled out two flavors of feedback after a task: identity feedback (“you're smart,” “you're talented”) or effort feedback (“you worked hard,” “you kept going”). The results were surprising.

The students who got identity feedback started choosing easier problems to solve. In contrast, the effort feedback group picked harder problems and eventually outperformed the other group. Most damning: when given an easy opportunity to lie about their performance, the identity feedback group was far more likely to do so.

“Smart” is something you have or you don't. You can’t fail without risking the trophy. The identity feedback students played it safe, avoiding anything that might damage their sense of self.

Both groups are drawn to praise, but the flavor of praise matters.

You protect that stone like it’s a living being
But it is not a living being
Stones do not grow
–Let go the chisel

Effort is different than intelligence, because it can include failure. You can work all week on something and still get the wrong answer—that’s what learning is. Effort is not a thing you can have, nor is it a thing you can lose.

When you praise effort, you describe without defining. It is available to everyone.

So if you want to pay someone a compliment, praise their effort, not their identity.

• You’re naturally good at x → You must work hard at x

• You’re a genius → You approached that problem with confidence

• You’re so kind → You noticed when I was struggling

• You’re stylish → You put thought into that outfit

• You have a gift → You’ve practiced a lot

Effort feedback deals in verbs. Intelligence feedback deals in nouns, and nouns can crystallize around you like a stone. Praise the action, not the label. Because stones do not grow.

Doc and I went to a bee event today and it was really a lot of fun! We learned a lot and got to hang out in a very beautiful area with bees

Or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Blog

A Long and Winding Road

I’ve been blogging since 1999, first via extremely cringe LiveJournal posts and later documenting my experiences from a Rotary exchange program to Japan in 2004 (including a nostalgic return last year). Over the years I’ve used various platforms, but none have felt quite right.

The Tumblr Era: A Love-Hate Relationship

For a long time, Tumblr was my go-to platform. It was easy to use and had a great community. However, as Tumblr evolved, it became clear that it wasn’t the ideal solution for my needs. The lack of HTML support and the platform’s overall instability made it difficult to maintain my blog.

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There’s no shortage of amazing art tucked away in the alleys of San Francisco’s Mission District, but one of my pieces is the Peephole Cinema.

This hidden little installation is incredibly easy to miss. In fact, most locals don’t even know it’s there. You’ll find it in Orange Alley, just off 26th Street. Walk down the alley and look closely; you’ll spot a tiny glass window and a small sign that reads “Peephole Cinema.” Put your eye up to the glass, and you’ll see short, silent films playing on a miniature screen, looping endlessly for anyone curious enough to look.

The project has been running in San Francisco since 2013, and there’s a sister installation in New York City as well. It’s entirely free, always open, and delightfully surreal.

I love it so much that I made this video (and original song!) to help spread the word. Hope it inspires you to visit in person, or at least squint through your screen and imagine what it’s like.

The Peephole Cinema jingle I wrote for my short video

The post Peephole Cinema: A Hidden Art Installation in San Francisco’s Mission District appeared first on Doc Pop's Weblog.

When another human bumps into your boundaries, you have to say something. Unspoken boundaries aren’t boundaries. Boundaries begin when spoken. You must make your boundaries known.

I don’t like getting advice when I didn’t ask for it.

The air of a request, but it's a statement oriented around feelings. No mention of "sorry," "please," or "you." A boundary is a fence; you must show where it lies.

This fence needn't be barbed, but a bumped boundary is tender for all parties. You are not automatically a victim, nor is the bumper a villain. You simply made contact.

It’s your duty to frame the feedback process to protect your creative spirit. It’s simply part of being a functional human adult with boundaries. You would never accept notes on your appearance or personality during a critique, would you?
–You do not welcome all feedback

To make your boundaries known is to educate the relationship.

The ideal response is a version of “Understood.” Sometimes the bumper can get defensive. Even if you express yourself calmly, they will hear your expression as an attack and cast themselves as the victim:

You don’t have to be rude about it
How was I supposed to know?
I can’t do anything right

They might kvetch, cry, or leave; it does not affect your boundary. You’re still obligated to make it known. You might even hear:

But you do this too!

Probably true. You bump boundaries in every relationship. Respond with grace:

You’re right. Even so, I need to express when something doesn’t work for me.

And if that doesn’t work, try a direct question:

Does this mean you refuse to respect this boundary?

The bumper might delve into ancient history, re-litigating old conflicts. You must bring it back to the here and now. Your goal is to defend this one checkpoint.

If you do this consistently, you will earn a dotted-line map of the things you can and cannot accept. Your boundaries.

Defend this border indeed, but keep your identity fluid. Not everything that bumps you is bad. To grow you must hold on loosely. (But don’t let go.)