Meet Jack and Pokie. They live in Chicago, on the wrong side of the tracks and well below the poverty line. They make music and art, attempt to keep their utilities turned on, and fight a largely ineffectual battle to rise above their own humble means.
Jack and Pokie are here representin' for the less popular (but hopefully not less entertaining) aspects of gay culture. They speak for the overeducated but under-qualified, the subnormally beautiful, and the nonspecifically ambitious. Because if they don't...who will?
Every creature needs something to believe in, and it always takes the form of their own kind. Dogs have dog gods. Fish have a fish god. The reason God was a middle aged white man for so long is because it was middle aged white men drawing pictures of him. If junkies drew their own god, Holly thought, he would subsist on divine drugs. He would test their faith by testing their addiction. He would be a God on High, or a God on Heroin, or just on H.
Holly Interlandi: "This sucker is just a short story that Jordan Peters was awesome enough to illustrate. It’s a kind of concrete fairytale, an extremely autobiographical account of shunning bodies and embracing chain-link. Fairytales are usually love stories, and I gave mine a happy ending."
