CSotD: The Broken Bits
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On another “Where do we begin?” day, we’ll start with what was yesterday’s Deflocked, which is somewhat unremarkable, since cartoonists have been pointing out our astonishing talent for ignoring reality, except that YouTube TV and Disney resolved things Friday night, so I was gobsmacked to see a syndicated strip pick it up three days later.
Particularly since there generally are very, very few new political cartoons on Monday, at least first thing in the morning. One of the oddities of GoComics is that they update continuously, so you do see a few editorial cartoons come limping in around noon. When I worked in an office, that would get you written up.
Chassy offers a clever pun with elements of a literary and perhaps Biblical view of things. Those who finished ninth grade will recognize the trophy pig’s head from Golding’s novel, and they may also remember that the killing of the pig by the choir boys was initially an act of survival, providing meat for the stranded group, but quickly degenerated into a savage ritual that marked their degeneration into a violent cult.
But not every teacher taught that “Lord of the Flies” was a translation of Beelzebub. I played Beelzebub in a 1985 recreation of the mystery play “The Harrowing of Hell,” part of the 16th Century York cycle that dramatized the Bible. I wasn’t Satan; someone else played him. I was just his demonic helper.
Seems a bit rude to depict the President of These United States in that guise, but, then again, he was asked by a reporter if the Epstein files were incriminating the other day and his profound, intensely meaningful presidential answer was “Quiet, Piggy.”
Takes one to know one, pal, and sucks to your heel-spurs.
If you’ve followed the bigoted racist idiocy being posted by his cabinet organizations on social media, you’ll realize that we’ve managed to set up an entire sty of pigs covered in their own mire.
But, hey: Beelzebub is not Satan. He’s just one of Satan’s chief assistants.
He seems to have a lot of little helpers these days, like Megyn Kelly, who says it’s only pedophilia if the rape victim has not reached puberty. It’s perfectly understandable to have sex with a 14-year-old, however, and shouldn’t be considered such a bad thing, really.
Megyn Kelly’s daughter turned 14 in April. And we remember what Dear Leader said about her mommy.
The Catholic League — which represents all Roman Catholics to the same extent that the KKK represents all white folks — agrees with Kelly, which should make rogue priests feel better, since you have to confess mortal sins but you can redeem venial sins with an Act of Contrition.
For a sane view of sin, this explains why those people disliked Pope Francis and already hate Leo, too.
I’ll believe the Clinton/Trump coupling story when it’s confirmed by a source with more credibility than a dead guy’s email to his brother, particularly when the brother says “Bubba” referred to someone else.
It’s a good story and a tantalizing lead, but that’s all it is. I wouldn’t put money on this any more than I’d bet on the pee-tape story. Remember, the tale of JD and his couch began as a joke but has since become canon among those who dearly want it to be true.
There is no “true” or “false” anymore. We just clap harder and watch the lamp playing the role of Tinkerbelle get brighter and brighter. Dear Leader doesn’t much care if Tink lives or dies as long as he can mainline another hit of applause.
Elise Stefanik will jump aboard any bus that hits town, but Trump — a one-time pro-choice Democrat — has a particular talent for getting out in front of a bandwagon and acting as if he had been leading it all along.
His record of bankruptcies, frauds and blown-up football leagues reminds me of the guy trying to sell can-openers for a million dollars. It’s not that it’s a good idea or a smart idea, but, after all, he’s only got to sell one. Which he finally has.
Barnum didn’t say “There’s a sucker born every minute.” He just conducted himself on that assumption, and he also did pretty well.
There may not be a sucker born every minute, but there are enough to maintain a base, and, as Espinoza points out, they’re willing to believe stupid things as long as they would benefit them, even if, as the saying goes, they sound too good to be true.
I watched The Sting the other night, and the sting itself is artful, complicated and brilliant, but the movie starts with a simple, classic pigeon drop, in which three low-level cons stick a guy with blank paper in place of his cash.
The big sting has a million ways to fall apart and we have to suspend disbelief to accept that they pulled it off. The drop, by contrast, is simple and stupid and works really well in real life.
I read an analysis of Trump’s promise of $2000 checks, and the amount of money it would take couldn’t possibly be there even if he were serious about doing it. It’s just another con and falls into the “fool me twice, shame on me” category.
Juxtaposition of the Day
Ohman makes use of the end of the penny coin to make a point about the end of the Republican Party, though he’s got it bassackwards.
Destruction of the Party of Lincoln happened several years ago …
… and it’s funny that MAGA types like to taunt Democrats with memories of Jim Crow and the Dixiecrats, given who is knocking non-white people to the ground and hauling them off to jail today.
As for the pennies themselves, here’s a guide my bank sent me, and a second page to that, an example of how community banks serve customers.
Hey! Now cash registers will have a slot for dollar coins, so we can finally get rid of those silly paper ones!
And if you can still say “taken aback” or “a flash in the pan,” you needn’t change other folkloric sayings, nor must the Beatles’ rename anything:
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