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Chazz's avatar

As a relatively long-time denizen of some of the internet's more seedier corners, I must admit I did not expect to see the name of Shadman grace the hallowed halls of Substack. While I'm only passingly familiar with the MrBeast Kris Tyson imbroglio (I realized following internet drama online was, surprisingly, bad for my mental health), reliving all the stuff about our friend Shadman was certainly a trip down memory lane.

At the risk of inviting blowback to my own internet reputation: in an earlier phase of life, back when I had some fledgling artistic ambitions of my own and was into it deep learning gesture drawing and basic shapes and lighting online from youtube tutorials, I remembered seeing some of Shadman's YouTube videos on art being in my recommended feed: i.e., Shadman recording monologues of his own artistic journey over a timelapse of a (relatively tame, which by Shadman standards isn't saying much) painting. These would be meditations on how to pursue your art dreams, how to get an audience, how to deal with haters, etc.

When taken out of context, these videos had an undeniable charm and wisdom to my youthful mind: if nothing else, you couldn't say Shadman wasn't experienced in the field of taking public blowback and continuing to pursue your dreams regardless of what the naysayers in your life said. And make no mistake, for all of his other flaws, he was very good at the kind of profane, take-no-prisoners monologue that young teens interested in seedier artistic pursuits might enjoy.

Of course, I soon discovered that Shadman was known for a lot more than just releasing inspirational art videos about following your dreams, and it became somewhat difficult to hold him in high regard thereafter. But I remained fascinated by the seemingly enduring popularity of his fanbase (which, for a brief time, involved real artists and not just edgy 14-year-olds on newgrounds), and on certain days, if I closed my eyes and tried really hard not to think about it, Shadman's voice telling me to pursue my dreams and not care about what society thinks almost sounded inspirational in the right context.

To be up front, Shadman's proclivity for drawing things intended to arouse disgust in the general population wasn't limited to the Humbert Humbert genre; if I recall correctly, he also dabbled in bestiality, organs and gore, necrophilia, coprophilia, gay butt stuff, and everything else under the sun. (I may be misremembering, and for obvious reasons I don't have a burning desire to google this to fact check, but I remember Shadman once saying that he lost more followers when he drew simple gay homoerotica than anything involving extreme gore or lolis- which, if true, tells you something about his fanbase.)

I suppose a lot of his fans found his obvious moral provocations easy to forgive because at least he seemed to be the kind of guy who genuinely believed in the ideal that art should terrorize the comfortable and who was willing to go to any fucked-up lengths to commit to the bit, rather than someone who seemed likely to actually drive a van around offering free candy to kids in real life. In one of his YouTube videos, I remember Shad pretty emphatically saying that thinking about real-life bestiality or real-life kids having sex made him want to vomit, but that he believed in freedom of expression, or something. Now clearly, there are obvious reasons to question Shad's truthfulness as a reliable narrator in this regard, and I'm not going to make the claim that just saying "artistic freedom of expression" means normies should find cartoon pictures of kids and animals doing certain activities hunky-dory. In retrospect, it was kind of obvious that someone who would draw "Hilloli Clinton" with a straight face wasn't exactly going to have a great character arc. (Also, it takes a special kind of person to make someone feel sympathy for Keemstar.)

But if we want to explain how someone so patently offensive could rise up to a measure of genuine fame before crashing down in horrific fashion, I think there's something to be said that for a certain moment in internet time, Shadman was an emblem of the belief that we lived in a society that deserved to have its boundaries pushed in the service of finding one's own truth, and that no provocation, not even descending to fictional cheese pizza, was too far in support of that. Looking back, I'd also admit that Shadman was a canary in the coal mine as far as the notion that "fiction is separate from reality" was ever a thing- that gratuitous violence and horrific sex in pictures on the internet, as disturbing as they were, were still separate from their real-life counterparts. I suspect Shadman himself became painfully aware that he'd destroyed this party for everyone when he decided to drag Keem's daughter into his world; at that point, whatever scraps of high-minded artistic value he might have claimed to defend by drawing fictional little girls evaporated the moment he'd decided to focus on a real one for internet lols.

Also, up until that point, Shadman was well known and loved/hated in the relatively niche R-18 art world, but he'd escaped the civilizing eye of normies who would never have known about his stuff because his stuff, quite frankly, wasn't the kind of stuff you would see unless you were looking for it. Post-Keem, a lot of people became aware of what the gonzo philosophies of "fiction isn't reality" and "art should be uncomfortable" had helped birth in the fertile soil of a legion of edgy Newgrounds teens, and it wasn't pretty. After Shadman, it felt like "freedom of expression" and "all art is valid" was no longer something the principled liberal artist could or would say in all seriousness, because...well, just look at freaking Shadman. The anti-freedom-of-expression people couldn't have ginned up a better coup if they'd tried.

Who knows? Even if Shad hadn't crossed the Rubicon by drawing Keem's real-life offspring, he'd still be a weapons-grade menace to polite society, and even in his best moments, he was never going to be someone the "freedom of expression" people would ever feature front and center. And yet, in some of our culture's more braindead schoolmarmish moments about how fiction needs to be censored to protect the kids, I can't help but wonder in some moments what our world's stances on freedom of expression and fantasy vs. reality would look like now if he'd just stayed that guy giving profane YouTube advice for fledgling artists and hadn't flown too close to the sun. But then again, if he'd done that, he wouldn't be Shadman in the first place, would he?

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Cliff's avatar

After that unceasing litany of depravity that takes up the first two thirds of the article, there was simply no way in hell I was looking at that fucking picture. I blocked it with my hand and scrolled on past.

It's striking to me that it's not just one person - you've been documenting an entire ecosystem of Antediluvian perversion. Before the internet, these assholes would have had to live in seedy motels on the other side of the tracks. Now, they seem to be getting empowered.

Also, I view eating Kraft macaroni with ketchup as a war crime that should be tried in the Hague, and in any normal article this would be the most disturbing part.

And as always, the Internet must be destroyed.

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