Column.
Today is President's Day. I forgot about that before leaving the house. I could have dilly-dallied an extra ten minutes at home and gotten some more squeezes and kisses from my wife, but foolishly didn't.
It sucks when it's a Federal holiday and the freeway is deserted, yet an alarming number of commuters still drive as if traffic is bumper-to-bumper. The stretch of Interstate 94 between Minneapolis and St. Paul could and should have been like the Autobahn today, but I had to maneuver between way too many people going 48 miles per hour in the passing lane.
State Troopers in Minnesota often have zero tolerance weekends where they proudly dispense speeding tickets to people going even one mile per hour over the speed limit. I think they should periodically have zero tolerance days for people going under the speed limit, particularly in the passing lane. It's not merely a nuisance, it's dangerous.
Anyway, no Who's News this week. I finished it but realized it was too mean. I'm trying to shy away from mean. So, here's this week's Gazette masterpiece instead.
By the way, blogger.com is being fussy about pictures today, so I'll try to pretty this up later.
CARTOONS
Muslims around the world continue to protest “offensive” editorial cartoons that ran months ago in a Danish newspaper. Demonstrations have been held, buildings have been burned, people have been killed and a $1 million bounty has been placed on the cartoonist’s head.
I’m of the mind that if people want reasons to riot over cartoons, they need look no further than the typical American comics page.
The Family Circus, for instance, is certainly protest-worthy and the children depicted in the strip should be the first to light torches. Allah only knows what horrific pituitary experiments are being performed under that misleadingly serene suburban roof, preventing those poor kids from reaching adolescence. For Pete’s sake, at least allow P.J. to graduate to big-boy pants. He’s been in diapers for 50 years. Can you imagine the rash?
Many classic comic strips are now being churned out by the spawn of the original creators. Hagar the Horrible, Hi and Lois, Blondie, Beetle Bailey; the common thread is that the most out-of-date strips are guaranteed a shelf life of another century. I don’t know what’s worse: The prospect of Iran leading the world to the brink of World War III or the knowledge that 50 years from now, when my obituary appears in the newspaper, Sarge will be on the next page throttling Beetle—again—drawn by the original artist’s great-great grandson who inherited both his predecessor’s fortune and embarrassingly antiquated sense of humor.
A growing number of classic comics inexplicably require two people to produce them. Apparently, one person handles artistic duties while the other swings a pocket watch in front of newspaper executives chanting “You are getting sleepy. You will continue to believe this outdated tripe is relevant. You will invest heavily in 3M stock because millions of stay-at-home moms who haven’t left the house in decades Scotch tape this crap to their refrigerators every day.”
Mark Trail is one of the few classic comics that have changed with the times, but in a disappointing way: Succumbing to political correctness. A few years ago the lead character gave up his trademark pipe when a young reader warned the creator of the risks of second-hand smoke. I guess the kid missed the lecture on the dangers of first-hand banality. It’s hard to believe that the nicotine patch could be a suitable replacement for one’s trusty pipe—particularly after an exhaustive day of shooing wily raccoons away from the campground trash cans—but Mr. Trail does his best.
Of all the classic strips, Hagar the Horrible is the only one I respect even slightly, and only because it practices truth in advertising. Others should follow suit: Family Circus the Irrelevant. Doonesbury the Unsubtle. Garfield the Is Jim Davis Even Trying Anymore? Blondie the Let me Guess, Today Dagwood Knocks Over the Mailman, Eats a Big Sandwich and/or Gets Yelled At by his Boss, Hey I was Right but That Doesn’t Make it Funny.
And just when a new comic strip emerges that might restore my faith in the funnies, the creator goes Hollywood. The Boondocks—touted as a pioneering African-American comic strip—is one of a handful of cartoons that can make me laugh out loud. However, immediately after the strip hit the big-time, the creator began outsourcing drawing chores to a lackey, too busy to waste time on the cartoon that made him rich and famous. Instead, he’s signing multi-million dollar television and film deals and delivering speeches and giving interviews explaining why black people can’t succeed in America.
If an enterprising syndicate executive would show some backbone, the current Muslim furor over cartoons could usher in a whole new era of comics; an opportunity to get people talking about the funny pages again. There’s an inane comic strip called Arlo and Janis that features a husband, a wife and their cat. It’s as funny as it sounds. I propose that Arlo and Janis be replaced immediately by a new strip, Allah and Jesus. Picture it: Two of the world’s most identifiable religious characters living under the same roof. Jesus, a fastidiously neat, uptight Tony Randall type who’s always cleaning up after Allah, a Fritos-munching, Judge Judy-addicted couch potato. Add a “Brokeback Mountain” undercurrent and you’re sure to generate some buzz. Oh sure, there’s bound to be complaints—boycotts, letters to the editor, beheadings—but if you wanna make a steak, you’ve gotta slaughter a few sacred cows.
Syndicates receive thousands of submissions each year from aspiring cartoonists and only a handful make the cut. If the recycled drivel we’re treated to day after day is any indication of the talent pool that’s available, I pray to God—or Allah, whoever is listening—that we’re never subjected to the rejects. Cartoonists, syndicates, newspaper editors, I implore you: Lambaste my religion if you wish, but please stop insulting my intelligence.
It sucks when it's a Federal holiday and the freeway is deserted, yet an alarming number of commuters still drive as if traffic is bumper-to-bumper. The stretch of Interstate 94 between Minneapolis and St. Paul could and should have been like the Autobahn today, but I had to maneuver between way too many people going 48 miles per hour in the passing lane.
State Troopers in Minnesota often have zero tolerance weekends where they proudly dispense speeding tickets to people going even one mile per hour over the speed limit. I think they should periodically have zero tolerance days for people going under the speed limit, particularly in the passing lane. It's not merely a nuisance, it's dangerous.
Anyway, no Who's News this week. I finished it but realized it was too mean. I'm trying to shy away from mean. So, here's this week's Gazette masterpiece instead.
By the way, blogger.com is being fussy about pictures today, so I'll try to pretty this up later.
CARTOONS
Muslims around the world continue to protest “offensive” editorial cartoons that ran months ago in a Danish newspaper. Demonstrations have been held, buildings have been burned, people have been killed and a $1 million bounty has been placed on the cartoonist’s head.
I’m of the mind that if people want reasons to riot over cartoons, they need look no further than the typical American comics page.
The Family Circus, for instance, is certainly protest-worthy and the children depicted in the strip should be the first to light torches. Allah only knows what horrific pituitary experiments are being performed under that misleadingly serene suburban roof, preventing those poor kids from reaching adolescence. For Pete’s sake, at least allow P.J. to graduate to big-boy pants. He’s been in diapers for 50 years. Can you imagine the rash?
Many classic comic strips are now being churned out by the spawn of the original creators. Hagar the Horrible, Hi and Lois, Blondie, Beetle Bailey; the common thread is that the most out-of-date strips are guaranteed a shelf life of another century. I don’t know what’s worse: The prospect of Iran leading the world to the brink of World War III or the knowledge that 50 years from now, when my obituary appears in the newspaper, Sarge will be on the next page throttling Beetle—again—drawn by the original artist’s great-great grandson who inherited both his predecessor’s fortune and embarrassingly antiquated sense of humor.
A growing number of classic comics inexplicably require two people to produce them. Apparently, one person handles artistic duties while the other swings a pocket watch in front of newspaper executives chanting “You are getting sleepy. You will continue to believe this outdated tripe is relevant. You will invest heavily in 3M stock because millions of stay-at-home moms who haven’t left the house in decades Scotch tape this crap to their refrigerators every day.”
Mark Trail is one of the few classic comics that have changed with the times, but in a disappointing way: Succumbing to political correctness. A few years ago the lead character gave up his trademark pipe when a young reader warned the creator of the risks of second-hand smoke. I guess the kid missed the lecture on the dangers of first-hand banality. It’s hard to believe that the nicotine patch could be a suitable replacement for one’s trusty pipe—particularly after an exhaustive day of shooing wily raccoons away from the campground trash cans—but Mr. Trail does his best.
Of all the classic strips, Hagar the Horrible is the only one I respect even slightly, and only because it practices truth in advertising. Others should follow suit: Family Circus the Irrelevant. Doonesbury the Unsubtle. Garfield the Is Jim Davis Even Trying Anymore? Blondie the Let me Guess, Today Dagwood Knocks Over the Mailman, Eats a Big Sandwich and/or Gets Yelled At by his Boss, Hey I was Right but That Doesn’t Make it Funny.
And just when a new comic strip emerges that might restore my faith in the funnies, the creator goes Hollywood. The Boondocks—touted as a pioneering African-American comic strip—is one of a handful of cartoons that can make me laugh out loud. However, immediately after the strip hit the big-time, the creator began outsourcing drawing chores to a lackey, too busy to waste time on the cartoon that made him rich and famous. Instead, he’s signing multi-million dollar television and film deals and delivering speeches and giving interviews explaining why black people can’t succeed in America.
If an enterprising syndicate executive would show some backbone, the current Muslim furor over cartoons could usher in a whole new era of comics; an opportunity to get people talking about the funny pages again. There’s an inane comic strip called Arlo and Janis that features a husband, a wife and their cat. It’s as funny as it sounds. I propose that Arlo and Janis be replaced immediately by a new strip, Allah and Jesus. Picture it: Two of the world’s most identifiable religious characters living under the same roof. Jesus, a fastidiously neat, uptight Tony Randall type who’s always cleaning up after Allah, a Fritos-munching, Judge Judy-addicted couch potato. Add a “Brokeback Mountain” undercurrent and you’re sure to generate some buzz. Oh sure, there’s bound to be complaints—boycotts, letters to the editor, beheadings—but if you wanna make a steak, you’ve gotta slaughter a few sacred cows.
Syndicates receive thousands of submissions each year from aspiring cartoonists and only a handful make the cut. If the recycled drivel we’re treated to day after day is any indication of the talent pool that’s available, I pray to God—or Allah, whoever is listening—that we’re never subjected to the rejects. Cartoonists, syndicates, newspaper editors, I implore you: Lambaste my religion if you wish, but please stop insulting my intelligence.
posted by Admin Worm at 6:10 AM
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