CSotD: Cynical takes

We’re skipping politics for the day, but first …

Rabbits Against Magic

Barney & Clyde — Counterpoint

I’m all in favor of comic strips commenting on politics, but lead time can trip you up and both these strips were caught off-guard by Biden’s withdrawal.

Granted, however, that there are still some political cartoons up on the GoComics site that haven’t caught up with changing developments, and there’s less of an excuse for them. I have a feeling that the upcoming elections are going to require everybody to stay on their toes.

BTW, GoComics dropping comments on political cartoons is understandable, but it seems unfair to allow “likes” without offering a “dislike” option. We don’t need trolls and vulgarities, but there should be some way to show agreement or disagreement, or what’s the point of political cartooning?

They should either disable the thumbs up or offer both choices.

Existential Comics offers a chance to segue from politics to humor with a dialogue I wish I’d had in hand when I was in college.

Plato’s Republic was a foundation document for our department and we had long discussions balancing its ideals with its practicality, including the fairly common observation that, for all the fascinating, thought-provoking talk of Philosopher Kings, most philosophers would make lousy rulers.

Except maybe Diogenes, who was antisocial enough that he’d refuse the chance anyway, which is why he’d be qualified. As for his disbelief in forms, that puts him on my side, since I found Plato’s discussion of forms to be incredibly boring and pointless.

Upon graduation, we discovered that there weren’t a lot of job openings for philosopher kings, or, in fact, any.

In despair, many of my classmates enrolled in law school. I got myself a dog instead.

Mr Boffo offers a cartoon that would make even Diogenes smile. It is excellent advice that, when you change jobs, you should leave town so you don’t have to see what they do after you’re gone.

But I disagree with the caption. A good Cynic would point out that you shouldn’t work in a place where they prefer monkeys, and the fact that the monkey gets promoted shows that, whether you quit or were fired, you escaped.

Though a really good Cynic wouldn’t require proof.

I’m not sure at what point a Cynic simply becomes a cynic, but today’s Non Sequitur (AMS) offers a test.

I am on record as (Large-C Cynic) putting little stock in awards, but I’ve won enough of them that I don’t attribute it to (small-c cynic) sour grapes: Only two, maybe three, were well-earned. The rest were silly.

I saw a memo from New Jersey’s press association some years ago with instructions for award winners at their annual confab on how to get up on stage and have group photos taken in a way that would not take too much time.

If you’re giving away that many plaques, none of them matter.

At one paper where I worked, there was a reporter who would enter, and win, a contest each year for the best article about a particular disease. She knew they had so few entries that she was a lock and first prize was $50.

Definitely small-c cynical.

And here’s another cynical take: The clerk in today’s Loose Parts (AMS) has it backwards. They should offer 10% for organs and 50% for making you vulnerable to floods of spam.

I’d at least ask which organs they had in mind.

Okay, one more cynical take, and this time Donna Lewis is on my wavelength, because this Reply All (Counterpoint) does indeed remind me of my brief flirtation with online dating sites.

It was very common to come across entries that listed Greek islands as their favorite vacation spots. It was, however, unheard of to come across entries that listed jobs which would let anyone afford vacations on Greek islands.

Which reminds me of a non-fiction book about a fellow who advertised for a woman to go live with him for a year on an uninhabited island in the Pacific, and got an answer from someone who, when they arrived, was as horrified to discover that he expected “benefits” as he was to realize she hadn’t.

Naivete can get you into situations that cynicism wouldn’t.

Crabgrass (AMS) reminds me of a similar proposition when my best buddy and I were a little older than Kevin and Miles.

We were about 15, with the hollow legs of boys that age, and began a pattern of “Is it okay if Bill comes for dinner?” and the reverse, which worked well because his family ate at 5 and my family ate at 6:30, so we could make joint appearances at each table.

And then our mothers ran into each other at the grocery store and the jig was up.

My defense was that we were consuming the same amount, because, if we’d each eaten one dinner, we’d have gone back for seconds. This just provided more variety.

Our mothers were amused rather than angry, but for some reason they still put the kibosh on it.

Must have been Nostalgia Week in the funny pages, because, like Wallace the Brave (AMS)‘s mom, my mother also put a halt to a game in which, being one of the smaller boys in the third grade, I was at the end of a jump rope being pulled around the playground by three or four of my classmates.

Might have been okay if we’d had lusher grass on the playground, but, in addition to grass stains, this version of the game included rips and missing buttons. I can’t remember specifics, but I have a feeling we didn’t play it very many times before the hammer came down.

Betty (AMS) has a story arc going in which Junior is trying to learn to whistle through his fingers. It is a skill I much admire, and particularly in women, since it suggests a youth that wasn’t entirely devoted to sugar and spice.

It may be mostly a country thing. I learned it walking long distances spitting through my fingers until something emerged, and I’m not sure there’s another way, or that I’d have done that where others could watch.

But, yes, it’s a good skill.

Speaking of skills, we just lost a very skillful giant.