Upon being introduced, Ann Pfreundschuh would explain that her surname translates from the German into “Friendly Shoe”. She was a kind and promising Pratt Institute classmate and friend of mine in 1983 when she was savagely beaten, bound, gagged and drowned in her own bathtub by two 18-year-old local men who were in the process of robbing her off-campus apartment on Clinton Avenue Brooklyn when she walked in on them.
This was my first close encounter with evil.
After this horror, my roommate and I would walk from the dorm to the local stores on Myrtle Avenue with clearly visible hammers in hand for self-protection. We were, as Ann was, kids from the suburbs who knew nothing of inner-city life, but there we were. Attending our “dream” school and trying to stay alive.
My innocence died that day, and my muse grew darker. Evil is real and death can be waiting for you in your apartment. I became fascinated with artists like Bekinski and Giger and others who explored the dimension of nightmares. I wanted to integrate the shadow into my art to try and make sense of the senseless.
I’m not proud to say that I sported a mullet in those days. Maybe I was trying to present myself as an artist, but also wanted to make the distinction that I was a commercial artist. (Business in the front, party in the back.) The great illustrator and teacher at Pratt those days, Barron Storey, said that illustrators are like whores faking orgasms. I have thought about that quote a lot in my 40 years as an illustrator. I have prostituted myself over the years, but I have also volunteered my services many times. A hooker with a heart of gold, that’s me.
My most regrettable John turned out to be R.J. Reynolds. After Pratt I began working in the advertising industry creating art for national ad campaigns. I was one of many artists who worked on the now infamous Joe Camel ad campaign. Joe Camel (also called Old Joe) was a cartoon advertising mascot used to pimp cigarettes.
In 1991, the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) published research indicating that the Joe Camel ad campaign was appealing to children. They found that Camel's market share among youth smokers had sharply risen since the ads appeared. The research led RJR to a lawsuit in California, and a formal complaint from the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) for "unfair practices" by exposing children to smoking. RJR voluntarily ended the campaign in 1997 after increased litigation and pressure from American federal agencies.
I was reminded once more that evil is real. Am I now one of its useful idiots?
I began to question my life choices. I did not become an artist to sell cigarettes to kids! But why did I choose this path? I learned a lot about the methods of mass persuasion during my tenure with the Mad Men of Manhattan. The book titled Propaganda by Edward Bernays, Sigmund Freud’s nephew, is sort of the bible about influencing the masses. I decided to take what I had learned of psychological manipulation and use the concepts to sell things that are not carcinogenic. I pivoted into the world of editorial art. I was soon working for prestigious periodicals like Time, The New Yorker and The New York Times. They would never sell cigarettes to kids.
One of my assignments was a piece for the Op Ed page of the NYT. This is the place where the elite talk to one another. At the time, I thought that they were the Gold Standard of journalism. One of my assignments in the early 2000’s was to illustrate a piece co-written by a certain Condolezza Rice, followed by a piece promoting John Bolton!
I started to feel dirty again. I soon came to the realization that I was now part of an even more sinister persuasion machine. The Mad Men lusted only after money. My new bosses wanted nothing less than to control reality. I went from selling cancer to selling war. Time again to question those life choices. I had to bite the new hand that fed me. I was done with cartoon camels and old grey ladies. I needed to atone for my sins.
I began submitting work to the nascent alternative media space and have found a home here filled with fellow travelers and brave people who are risking everything to discover and speak truth to power. I want to sell things like peace and liberty and human dignity. I know now what a mullet-sporting 20-year-old art student would never have believed. The truth is that legacy media exists to speak lies for the powerful. They are captured and corrupt assets of the intelligence community. I know now that evil exists in high and low places. Evil dwells in both the hearts of street thugs and in some of the most powerful and celebrated people and institutions on Earth
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Anthony, simply: God bless you — for the struggle to find your path vocationally, and such that your considerable gifts as an artist, creative, and illustrator can be used for the Beautiful, Good, and True. Godspeed in your important work. (And recall Solzhenitsyn, who wrote: the dividing line between good and evil passes through every human heart.) Peace
Heavens, Anthony, that was an intense conversion story. I am so sorry you had to suffer such a grueling awakening to evil and appreciate your bearing witness to Ann’s brutal treatment.
Thank goodness, you saw the light as we are blessed to have someone of your talent and character battling the forces you formerly served.