Donald Lowe had a bad day.

I went through some notebooks and sketchpads and cut out the idle doodles I really don’t know I’m making and assembled them together….

I’ve found myself occasionally wondering what my final words will be. It’s an important quote, letting history sum up your life and beliefs in one soundbite, and thus deserves a bit of forethought, lest you say something terribly ironic or crass. Most likely, though, we’ll have brief flash of insight into our personal doom and manage to only get out a useless “Oh geez”.

President William McKinley had six days.

Just before a disillusioned man wrapped a gun in his handkerchief and stood in line to enter the Temple of Music and murder the President, an aide had begged McKinley to be more careful with his security. “Why should I?” McKinley replied. “Who would want to hurt me?” See? If he would have died right away, that would have been just a totally funny and awesome last quote, showing his bravado and foolishness. Except he didn’t die.

After the assassin shot him twice in the gut, McKinley slumped down, his suit turning red. “Be careful how you tell my wife.” Now THAT’S a great quote. Caring about your wife’s emotions in your final breath? Romantic. Much better. But he didn’t die.

When the President saw his attacker being violently beaten by his guards, he begged, “Don’t let them hurt him!” Great call. Very Christ-like, loving your enemies like that. Except he wasn’t nearly dead.

The next day, after awakening from his surgery, McKinley felt much better. “How did they like my speech?,” he asked. Throw in a little humor into your last words. Well played. He was strong even through the end, they’d say. But it wasn’t the end. In fact, he kept getting better, which had to bring a mix of emotions to the vice-president.

Four days after the shooting, the President ate a little egg and toast, which didn’t sit well with the gangrene and infection nobody knew he had. I’m assuming he said something about his gross bodily functions. Luckily, no one wrote that down.

Six days after an anarchist shot him down in Buffalo, William McKinley was at last about to die. He gathered his doctors. “It is useless, gentlemen. I think we ought to have prayer.” Classy move, Will. A bit of a slam on your doctors, but hey, you’re about to die so I think you get that privilege. But he wasn’t done yapping.

As he slipped into his final sleep, the President pulled the old classic move and sang a hymn. Nearer My God to Thee. Very smooth, resting in your faith like that. Singing a song like that for your last words not only is soothing for yourself, but also gives hope and comfort to your loved ones standing nearby. Some would want a little more patriotism out of their president, like maybe Battle Hymn of the Republic. But I like it. All in all, not a bad one to land on.

The only thing that can go wrong at that point is someone nearby saying something even cooler. A Senator friend got all emotional and yelled out, ”Mr. President, can’t you hear me? William! Don’t you know me?” Geez. Way to say something powerful and really steal the thunder. Now people remember that instead. What a bitch.

Acrylic on oval canvas. 20″x16″

President James Monroe. Boring. Political arguments about Spain and Missouri. Can’t be bothered. Just enjoy the watercolor.

Sincerely, Barak John Hardley.

I actually won on there and they made one of my designs, The Optical Illusion Kid.

But they foolishly passed on many many many others. Here are a few.

Fall down a well and die, Threadless.

Decided to put this back up. I’m pretty proud of it and want to show it again.

This is also my explanation for why Ben Folds hasn’t made a good album since he got happily married.

Hey kids! It’s time for Harry S. Truman FUNFACTS! Did you know…

Harry ran a habberdashery?
His middle inital “S” doesn’t stand for anything?
Harry had the highest and lowest approval ratings of any president until the 1990’s?
Harry killed his father and married his mother?
Harry’s unit fired some of the last shots of World War I?
Harry is the only person to ever order a nuclear weapon to be used?
The Great Depression caused his habberdashery to go bankrupt?
Harry still watches you through your windows when you sleep/dream?
Harry was a 33˚ Mason?
Harry’s super-Southern mother refused to sleep in the Lincoln Bedroom?
He popularized the phrase “The buck stops here”?
The movie “Ghostbusters” was based off of Truman’s real-life paranormal adventures?

Thank you Wikipedia!!

I wasn’t terribly happy with my original John Quincy Adams. Although I still admire the fact he was a spider.

It’s still a toss-up which one I like more. Let me know which one you like.

President Thomas Jefferson did not believe in meteorites. So take whatever you want from that.

Acrylic on Canvas, 30″ x 40″

James Buchanan was the last of the American Presidents to placate against the growing tide of resentment and anger over the issue of slavery. For decades they had sought to compromise and capitulate and calm the southerners and the northerners, not knowing the terror that was slowly, inexorably sweeping towards them.

How were they to know this was the wave that would drown them all? That would cause the south to secede and the north to violently say, “No!” The presidents could see the sea was rough, but hadn’t it always been choppy? The presidents had fought against the French and the Spaniards, and had grown and flourished during the brief skirmishes. It was just a wave. They had tariffs to argue about and roads to build. Slavery was just another thing to paddle through, or from.

How could Buchanan have seen that this was the end of everything? That cities would burn, that brother would rise against brother and six hundred thousand men would be thrown in shallow graves in forests and swamps and mountaintops?

We stand at the coast and look out only to see an eternity of whitecaps rushing towards us. A thousand have already broken around our ankles and yet we stand. It is only when we realize, too late, that the shore has pulled far away that this is something new. The ocean had been gathering itself, the tsunami is suddenly upon you and it will sweep everything you know away.

I wonder what terrible things are headed towards us? The prophets of Israel walked through their towns and spoke of doom, yet none would heed their words. The citizens thought they were mad. There was peace. Then God struck the land with armies and plagues.

I, too, see the modern doomsayers scream from the street corners and televisions, yet I look to the sea and glimpse nothing but storms we can weather. I am hopeful and confident that we can overcome whatever the oceans have in store for us. Some day, though, the tide will pull back and show the sand bars and the reefs and the sunken ships it has claimed, and we will look up and see that something terrible is upon us and it is too late.

This is a very specific request my neighbors asked me to draw. They’re getting married and wanted to give this as a present to someone in the bridal party who would legitimately enjoy this, in a non-ironic way.

I weep sometimes for the human race.

One of the remarkable things about our American society is our willingness to put aside whatever facts there are about a person for a more prurient and expedient fact. Or vice versa. We want to worship our heroes and will defend them against all naysayers, until the moment we are bored. Then we just need a hint of a rumor to get us to the garage so we can grab our pitchforks and torches.

President Richard Nixon ended the draft, got America out of Vietnam, established a treaty with the Soviet Union to reduce nuclear weapons, brought Israel back from the brink of war with Egypt and Syria, an almost single handedly opened up China to the rest of the civilized world. Domestically, he instituted one of the most dramatic environmental programs and tough new anti-crime laws.

But all we have time to remember him for is Watergate.

And what is even more shocking for me, more than all of this, is that we somehow elected a man whose nose looks like a penis. Remarkable.

After John Adams first met his future wife Abigail, he sent her a letter detailing her “Faults, Imperfections, Defects, or whatever you please to call them.” It ranged from criticisms on the way she played cards to the way she walked on her “Leggs,” from how she hung her head like a Bullfish to his thoughts that she was too prudish and a terrible singer. She loved it. Player, player.

John Adams was a fiery and brilliant man, who was recently portrayed by the equally brilliant actor Paul Giamatti in the HBO miniseries. Which brings me to this small request- If I ever lead the kind of life where in later years someone wishes to make a miniseries about me, please please please don’t let Paul Giamatti portray me. Seriously. Please. Dude is not attractive. At least make it Steve Buscemi or something. Paul Giamatti… yikes.

(As always, click to enlarge.)

Made this my first year in LA, when I was naive and hopeful. I’m much more mature now; naive and hopeful and with decent representation.

The song is by the best band ever, The Daylights. Song used without permission. Eat it, Daylights.

(My first president came about when I had maybe one drink and drew Lincoln in photoshop. You can see it here. Now that I’ve done a bunch more, I wanted to do it again, hence….)

A piece of campaign literature once incorrectly claimed that Abraham Lincoln was so super self-educated that he read the writings of first century Roman historian Plutarch for fun, though he had never read them. Since he was such an upright guy, and not wanting to be thought of as a liar, he naturally went right to the first century historian bookstore down the street and proceeded to read them all.

So basically you could claim Lincoln had done something, and in his quest for integrity would proceed to do it. With that realization I will now claim things and expect Abe to rise from the dead and prove me wrong.

1) Lincoln once fought Bill O’Rielly in Madison Square Gardens. He threw the fight in the third.

2) Lincoln drank a gallon of milk in three minutes and then ate a box of saltines and whistled.

3) Lincoln gave me $400 and told me I didn’t need to repay it.

4) Lincoln once gave a long lecture to Andy Dick about proper behavior and etiquette and turned that young man around.

5) Lincoln found out how Lost was going to end and totally spread it over the internet, ruining it for everyone.

6) Lincoln went to the Ford corporation and politely asked they take his name off their cars. Except for the Navigators, which he said were badass.

7) Lincoln once danced with Elizabeth Shue, real slow, real sensual. And then told me all about it later, high-fiving the whole time.

8) Lincoln totally powned some Generals on Modern Warfare 2 like it was NOTHING.

9) Lincoln appeared in a series of commercials as the Kool-Aid man, painted entirely red and bursting through walls.

10) Lincoln once parachuted into Kandahàr and settled some shit.

Balls in your court, Abraham.

And now, Lincoln getting shot by Jack Ruby:

I’ve made more stencil pieces based off this quote from Brennan Manning. If you’re interested in one, let me know. barakportfolio@gmail.com. They are $200, plus shipping.

Eight months before the world economy had its worst crash in human history, and a year or so before most of the dirt in America decided to take some time off from growing food, Herbert Hoover was elected president. Up until that point he had done a pretty proficient job at the kicking-of-ass and taking-of-names part of life.

After both his parents decided to die when he was nine, Herb took his GED, which at that time involved holding a full time job and then going to school at night. He became the first student at Stanford, which must have been nice, not having older upperclassman hazing him and selling him elevator passes. He got a degree in geology and promptly started digging holes in Australia and China. I believe they were called mines.

While in China the Boxer Rebellion broke out, and even though I know its not accurate, I still like to think of Sugar Ray and James “Clubber” Lang running around punching everyone. In reality it was people with guns. Herb took it upon himself to just about quell the whole thing and solve several humanitarian crises as he saved the lives of innocent babies. No big deal for a geology major.

After those hi-jinx, he decided he would slow it down and just become a successful inventor, entrepreneur, and universally admired public servant. Then came the big crash, caused by (based on my knowledge of the 20’s) the stock market, flapper girls, Al Capone, speakeasies, prohibition and Tommy guns.

Even though Hoover fought hard to battle the growing depression swallowing up the world, he refused to let government carry the responsibility, instead insisting that the people themselves lead the way, through their own generosity in their communities and volunteerism. He believed the people could rise above their circumstances and altruistically help others, just as he had time and time again, like his days in China.

And there lies the greatest failure of Herbert Hoover, believing that everyone was just like him. Sober and responsible and good.

They are not. They are more like me. Lazy and distracted, waiting for some organization to come solve all the problems of the world, and desperately wanting a drink to help forget it all.

The story of President Andrew Johnson is yet another example of the grand American Dream: That any man can raise himself by his bootstraps from poverty and ignorance, to rise through the ranks of society till one day that man can be successful and well spoken enough to be roundly vilified by everyone around him, until he is barely acquitted from impeachment just because he tried to deny others the very same chance he had to follow the American Dream.

That old story.

Also, I thought he would look pretty cool as a magical centaur warrior.

Clay, leather and acrylic 10″ tall

This was based on a headline that said kids are starting not to like Miley Cyrus.

I was approached this week by a nice lady who wondered if I would be interested in doing a few cartoons for the site she worked for, sort of a celebrity blog. So I worked up this one based on one of their headlines about Ari Gold.

Did not get the job.

In 1989, George H. W. Bush declared hella war on Panama, who had it coming. Don’t you dare say they didn’t.

We totally paid for the canal, and Carter signed some documents saying we were the bosses, so when our boy Noriega turned a-hole and against us, we totally put our boot up his dictator butt. You can falsify the election results all you want, and be all phoney-baloney DEA informant to your heart’s content, but when you like totally blow us off, it is PAY DAY, BOYEEEEE. Then you kill a US GI with some half-A “Hard Chargers” unit, and think we won’t get mad? Not only did you ice our boy, but then you steal old Teddy ‘velt’s moniker? Hellz no, you headed OUT.

So old George HW sent our boys in and SETTLED BIDNESS. Blam blam, as they say. They called it “Operation Just Cause”, as in Just Cause We Wanted To. Basically we went in GUNS BLAZIN and took out all them Japs, or whatever they’re called. PAN’s, I guess. You want to read about it? Check out a little film called Heartbreak Ridge. It’s a documentary starring one Mr. Clint Eastwood. EVER HEARD OF IT? BOOYAH!!! The Good, the Dead and the Deader. OOORAH!

HDubs knew what he was doin. He got shot down by the enemy in some old war and still went on to be the CIA BOSS. That’s even doper than the Prezident. Even the DEAD PREZIDENTSSS. Ha you know I’m just playin.

You want to be all talking junk about HW, about Dan Quayle and how George was a 1 term PREZ and how his boy is W, cuz all I’m gonna say is Imelda MARCOS. That b-word had TOO MANY SHOES. And don’t be all tellin me how she and Noriega were never married, and in fact she was married to a dictator from another hemisphere. I don’t need to hear that.

All I need to know is the son-a-GUN Marcos is currently held in the Federal Correctional Institution in MIAMI, along with my boys the DeCavalcante crime family.

HEARTBREAK RIDGE. That’s where Mario Van Peebles gets shot. That’s a SHAME. But we honor the sacrifice. WORD. Thankyou President George Bush NUMBA ONE!!

So I found a bunch of scattered drawings on a lawn one day. I picked them up before they could be ruined by the sprinklers. They were random things drawn by an imaginative kid. So, I tried bringing a couple of them to life. I tried to see what they would look like if an eight year old had the skill of a 34 year old. A 34 year old without much skill. Here’s one…

I just have absolutely no desire to write about or read about President Warren G. Harding. I do not want to find out what the Teapot Dome Scandal is, I do not care to revisit my scant 8th grade knowledge about the League of Nations. I don’t want to know what advice he sought from an uppity Herbert Hoover. Wikipedia, thank you for offering to tell me a thing or two about his early life, but no.

I do not care today. In fact, I never have. And I have twenty American dollars to say I never will.

Please accept my apologies if I’ve become something of a doorway for you to Presidential history. I have let you down. But the man and the era were boring and I just ain’t up to it today. My problems are as widespread and unmeaningful as his, which means in just a little bit of time they will be forgotten, despite the immediacy they both have carried.

The G stood for Gamaliel.

T.HANKS

Donald is a buddy and wrote a really amazing book called Blue Like Jazz. He was rad enough to ask me to do some illustrations for his new book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.

Check it out out any bookstore in the universe.

This happened in the first inning.

Of a kickball game.

…at an audition for the role of “DJ Fat Man.” So there I was surrounded by a room of generally out of breath and sweaty guys with just spectacular bellies. And these two fellows. Beware the moment when the Jimmy Buffet-type guy in the backwards Kanga hat starts talking at the Oakley-wearing-inside tucked in polo shirt-guy. SPARKS.

Another observed moment HERE.