Welcome To Peppered Chub Illustration

To the place of definitions...

“Peppered Chub and Chemicals are the keys to the future.”

“…[I]t is hopeless to look for literal agreement among mankind…The ultimate philosophy, we may therefore conclude, must not in all its parts divide heresy from orthodoxy by too sharp a line. There must be left over and above the proposition to be subscribed, ubique, semper, et ab omnibus [always everywhere and by everyone], another realm into which the stifled soul may escape from pedantic scruples and indulge its own faith, at its own risks; and all that can here be done will be to mark out distinctly the questions which fall within faith’s sphere.”  

Enter the Peppered Chub.

“The indignities so commonly charged to [reality]’s account are [numerous], almost all of them, not chargeable at all to [reality] proper, but rather to [reality]’s wicked practical partner, the spirit of corporate dominion. And[!], the [preprogrammed and widely accepted societal] bigotries are, most of them, in their turn chargeable to [reality]’s wicked intellectual partner, the spirit of dogmatic dominion, the passion for laying down the Law in the form of [...] absolutely closed-in theoretic [and aesthetically bereft] systems.

“Peppered Chub” is not an idea, it is not a metaphor, it is not a commodity nor is it a brand—it is a “lost continent in the mind” and the map to this continent has been for too long been “illegal, furiously suppressed, inveighed as suicidal and viewed with an unreflecting horror that earlier generations reserved for Bolshevi[sm], suffrage and oral sex.” 

               Kant would argue that the words the squares use for orientation like “god”, “the soul”, “laws”, or                         “facebook” are not objects of proper knowledge i.e. they have no sense, no content; they are devoid of any significance—and yet, [and yet(!),] the squares act as if there is a “god”, they speak of “souls”, they worship “laws” and they obey the mores  [and aesthetic standards] of the “facebook”—so [these words/concepts] do indeed influence them and their interactions with their world. This causes them, as Kant, again, would say, to "experience the strange phenomenon of having a mind believing with all its strength in the reality of a thing it cannot comprehend." 

To cope “[they] carry credit cards, [they] live in fear of art—they fail to see that the screen is the new vector of addiction, that social media moguls and reality stars are the new apparatchiks of Industrialized Mediocrity.

Peppered Chub dissolves this social machinery through which it simultaneously moves.

Furthermore: 

Unlike the designer substances that any square can easily cop, “there can be no '“Just Saying No” with Peppered Chub; nothing so asinine or preposterous will do. [Nor will Peppered Chub lead the willing down that] primrose path to the feel-good philosophies and empowerments that see unbridled hedonism [and unreflective validation] as the Holy Grail of social organization.”

Peppered Chub will not coddle the spiritually mediocre; Peppered Chub will not feed the “desperate assumption that somebody—or at least some force—is tending the light at the end of the tunnel.” 

The campus style politicking, protesting and rebellion of the professionally “woke” become  a vacant hum to the sound receptors of Peppered Chub.

Peppered Chub will not spoon feed answers like so much pap to the toothless and unimaginative who have never formulated a question beyond “to like or not to like.”

Because “[f]or every clarification that one arrives at by discussing these matters with others, there is a corresponding reinforcement of an illusion or understanding. The only reliable way to get THERE is by closing one’s eyes [to the HERE] and jump blindly into the mosh with Peppered Chub. It is only in such leaps, motivated by whatever passion, perversity or dedication that the adhesive grip of duality is escaped and the way made clear for unconditional light.”

As St. John of the Cross said, “To be what you are not, experience what you are not.”

Peppered Chub is the invitation to the absence of limitation.

Three bucks a hit.

the pinched: William James, Terrance McKenna, Martin A. Lee, Bruce Shlain, Immanuel Kant, Hunter S. Thompson, The High Priest of Harmful Matter: Jello Biafra

F.A.Q.

Considering the amount of verbiage already contained on this here page we have decided to forego including an ongoing F.A.Q. page. However we will, within reason and the dictates of decency, do our best to answer all inquiries sent our way. Also, just to save everyone some time, here is the answer to the one question we receive most often straight from the main chub themself:

What’s the deal with the name: Peppered Chub? 

Short answer: The name Peppered Chub makes me smile.

Colloquial answer: Have you noticed everything, everyone is so goddam bad these days? You can’t just be working hard, you have to be “killing it”; you can’t just look “good” you have to look “fierce”; Moms are now “bosses”; the noodle-armed, sweaty palmed “designers” on those Fiverr subway ads affect a look like they’re about to shank you after asking ‘yo, what set you claim?’; there’s a monthly fragrance subscription service whose ad states: “work, spray, slay.” There’s a brand of bread (yes, bread) called “killer” bread. There is even, I shit you not, a company that sells water that you can use to “Murder your thirst.” Even celebrity chefs (chefs!) competing on ridiculously titled shows like Kitchen Wars, Cut-Throat Kitchen, Slasher Pantry and Cupcake Conflagration and the like rock a heavily tatted, leathered-road-warrior cum biker look. If you ever met one of them you’d almost want to ask: have you been up all night perfecting a perfect spice-rub or snorting rails of speed and fashioning whip chains with fevered visions of kitchen violence?

Yawn…

Now I’m sure this culture wide adoption of the criminally psychotic aesthetic speaks volumes and warrants some further pondering about our society’s current state of affairs, but that is a gab for another day. 

Don’t get me wrong, I love the heavy stuff as much as the next person, maybe even more, but c’mon mang, you can’t listen to Motörhead all goddam day. Even Lemmy aped the likes of Buddy Holly from time to time. 

That said, when it came time to pick a name for this enterprise of mine I wanted, of course, something original, but too, something completely opposite of of the current zeitgeist-ical trend of  espousing the prison-yard chic.

Enter the Peppered Chub. The Peppered Chub is a handsome little fish (currently on the endangered list) whose name I have always found to be kind of funny. You really can’t say ‘peppered chub’ with cracking a smile. Try it: say “Peppered Chub”. One more time: Peppered Chub. See? When it became go-time to launch this site and I needed to settle on a domain name Peppered Chub seemed like a no-brainer. 

And that is why this site is named Peppered Chub Illustration: it is a name that makes me smile.

(For what it’s worth, the runner-up name was also after a funny fish: the Boops Boops.)

Contact:

“No sympathy for the devil; keep that in mind. Buy the ticket, take the ride...and if it occasionally gets a little heavier than what you had in mind, well...maybe chalk it up to forced consciousness expansion: Tune in, freak-out, get beaten.”
― Hunter S. Thompson