CSotD: Quick! To the Funny Pages!

A few quick shots before we descend into merriment: Jeffrey Koterba gets the Wordle Award for capitalizing on the fad without screwing things up. He’s right: Five letters. One word. Okay, “Putin” is a proper noun, but at least he didn’t show a bunch of colored boxes that don’t match the gag, which as become the norm among political cartoonists.

And, on a related rant, if there’s anything positive about Russia’s overnight blitz, it may spell an end to all the cartoons that have capitalized on the fact the “Peace” and “Piece” are homonyms, which Mel Brooks figured out nearly 40 years ago, for his brilliant remake of Ernst Lubitsch’s classic 1942 “To Be or Not To Be,” a comedy about a courageous Polish theatre troupe drawn into the German Cancel Culture.

 

You can’t beat this, so just put the gag down and think of something else.

 

One more semi-political rant: Chip Bok (Creators) asks an interesting question, because, yes, “Freedom” has become a dog whistle, and a call to anything but freedom.

The question of “When” truly sends us to the history books. Obviously, it was not a “dog whistle” but a true aspiration for enslaved people in our first century, but turning the concept of “freedom” into “loyalty” emerged within decades, as we began locking up people like Eugene Debs for union work, and later for his opposition to WWI, a trend that didn’t slacken through the Red Scares of the 20s, which repeated in the 50s.

 

Nixon and Reagan weaponized patriotism and are the ones who truly turned “Freedom” into a dog whistle, which, as Kal Kallaugher suggests, they might regret, given the kind of mutts it has succeeded in summoning.

 

Can’t we talk about more pleasant dogs?

(Bliss — AMS)

 

(Free Range – Creators)

Here in New Hampshire, it is Just-spring, when the world is mud-luscious, though it promises to end in a day or two and put back the blanket of snow for a few more weeks.

But now we’re seeing the result of people who think snow is an excuse not to scoop.

Our park is largely woods and brush, where scooping is nice but people should watch where they step anyway. However, it includes an athletic field, a more general grass field and a picnic area, so we’ll have some kind of volunteer day later on, since the town doesn’t have the personnel for such things and we’d like to stay in their good graces.

And they do like us, and I’ll take Free Range as a sort of metaphor for the benefits of dog-friendly policies. The cops and parks people all know that, since we started coming here a decade ago, human litter has virtually disappeared, as have the drug dealers.

No, our dogs aren’t following us picking up our trash, but we’re picking up other people’s garbage before the dogs get to it, while the increased foot traffic has made the park far less isolated.

And, yeah, we’ll deal with mess left by slob dog owners once Spring truly arrives.

You can take that as a political metaphor, if you’re so inclined, since it’s always the responsible majority who need to step up when poop becomes an issue.

 

But before declaring Spring, I’m letting today’s Adam@Home (AMS) take me back to a very cold day about this time of year, when I had my first coffee.

I was older than Katy, perhaps 11 or 12, and we were at a dog sled race, which involves watching them all go off, one team at a time, and then going into the firehouse and hanging around until the first ones start arriving back. It was well below zero, and, while there was usually hot chocolate, too, this time there was only coffee.

I think my parents must have realized the choices were (A) frostbite, (B) coffee or (C) going home halfway through the event.

Steam did come out of my ears, but, at that temperature, steam was coming out of everybody’s ears.

Today’s kids may need to find another gateway. Climate change has cancelled a whole lot of dogsledding down here in the Lower 48.

 

Different kind of Climate Change over in England, where Guy Venables quietly points out how Boris Johnson’s timing continues to consistently land him butter-down on the floor.

Apparently, HRH was long-since vaccinated and so is uncomfortable but not endangered by her bout with the virus, so I suppose he should be happy she’s at least showing the value of the vaccinations, if not the wisdom of his dropping the nation’s guard against it. Imagine if the old girl had snuffed it!

Still, it’s a second blow: He was caught partying while HRH had to bury her husband all but alone, because of the rules he was breaking.

Good ol’ Boris. In such depressing times, there is value in comic relief.

Though I’ll bet We are not amused.

 

As for this one, my main question is how Jeff Stahler sorts his political cartoons, which are mostly social observation, from his panel, Moderately Confused (AMS), which includes, for instance, this sort of observational humor.

I guess if the character walking past were a housekeeper pushing a cleaning cart, it would be more of a criticism than an bland observation, and thus a political cartoon. Here it’s just a reminder that there really isn’t a whole lot of room at the top and that you’re probably just Willy Loman, living out your life of quiet desperation.

I might not find it funny, except that I’m part of the Great Resignation, old enough to trade in my briefcase for a roll of poop bags.

Same activity, but the dog’s affection for me is sincere.

 

I haven’t had one of the calls seen in Next Door Neighbors (AMS) in years, though I sure remember them. I guess the combination of the no-call registry and bans on dialing cell phones with autodialers has stifled the honest practitioners.

Assuming you consider fundraisers whose contracts reserve most of the haul for themselves “honest.”

Saw one of those “Support Your Local Police” bumper stickers the other day and wondered if people still put those on their cars to avoid traffic tickets.

Such foolish things never fooled these cops.