CSotD: In Praise of Basic Competence
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John Cole gets props today less for the quality of the concept than for the fact that his parody scans.
That is, I don't disagree with the concept: Trump's eagerness to describe every setback as the result of a conspiracy needs to be pointed out, and the more ridicule involved, the more it's at least possible to break through the shell of paranoia within which his followers dwell. However, this is a bit wordy.
But it scans. To quote someone or other:
There was a young chap named McCann,
Whose poems would never quite scan.
When told it was so,
He said, "Yes, I know,
"But I always try to get as many words into the last line as I possibly can."
My late father-in-law was a tool-and-die maker and an excellent craftsman who was also more than a bit compulsive, such that, if he went to a restaurant and sat facing a bit of woodwork onto which some hapless finish worker had hammered a slight crescent moon, he'd barely be able to eat.
I'm sure there are similar signs of avoidable graphic incompetence that make artists queasy. Poetry that needs to scan but fails to does it for me.
I'm willing to admit to being overly sensitive to the matter as long as I don't have to give up the standard that, dammit, if you can't do it right, you ought not to do it at all.
In the ancient words of the philosopher, Sir William Belichick, "Do your job."
Drive the nail into the wood but stop before you give it that last, extra, unnecessary tap that leaves a half-moon permanently proclaiming your incapacity. Satirize the poem and then read your version and listen to hear if it has the same rhythm as the original.
Even in the age of Ben Carson, this is not brain surgery.
I know cartoonists who will praise a so-so concept because of the quality of the art, and I'm a writer: When someone is able to carry out a satire without flubbing the attempt, it gets my attention for that reason alone.
Also I like the concept. That matters, too.
On a related note, I don't often agree with Gary Varvel, but our differences are honest, and, not only do I like his artistic style, but I like the clarity of his vision, as exemplified in this panel.
I don't envy true conservatives in this cycle, because, much as I wish the Democrats had put forth a full slate of progressives from which to choose, Clinton is an acceptable if not ideal choice. "She probably won't screw it up" is hardly the election slogan I'd have chosen, but, if you do hope for reform, four years of her leadership will at least not set things back.
By comparison, conservatives have a disaster on their hands, and it's interesting to sort true conservatives from True Believers, the latter now resorting to woeful inaccuracies and childish insults rather than actual commentary.
So Varvel gets credit for intellectual honesty and shame on us all for being in a position where that seems noteworthy but here we are anyway.
His criticism and insight begins with Trump's lack of experience, which is compounded by his arrogant refusal to learn or adjust. I particularly like the sight of the distant person who has also gone off the road, because it suggests that this isn't an easy road even if you know what you're doing.
He doesn't hammer Trump beyond reason, neither does he let him off the hook. Fair enough.
Even in good times, this would be a good cartoon. A shame that it stands out so much more today.
One more example of basic, praiseworthy competence
I nearly skipped over Lisa Brown's cartoon commentary on traveling with small children because I feared it would be yet another prolonged millennial whine.
It is not, and, in fact, it's an encouraging sign that good parenting continues despite the amount of well-publicized silliness that suggests otherwise.
Certainly, times have changed, and I'm glad I never had to squire a pair of toddlers through the maze of pre-boarding security, but that shouldn't suggest that those lines made an easy task difficult. Traveling with little guys has always been a challenge.
This piece brings back so many memories that I wish Lisa Brown and I had been in the same room as I read it, so that we could laugh and elaborate on our respective horror stories.
Example: In the olden days, seat assignments generally happened at the gate, which makes sense since none of us had computers with which to choose ahead of time.
But I remember one trip in which wife, infant-in-lap, three-year-old son and I were told that they couldn't get us three seats together. The best they could do was two together and one elsewhere in the plane.
To which we said that was fine and we'd let the three-year-old take the solo seat.
Think we were bluffing?
Maybe we were. Maybe we weren't.
But they rummaged around and found three seats together after all.
That meant we got to go forward five spaces and take a free turn.
Get off my LAN
Speaking of the wisdom of the ages, yes, Daddy's Home, I do remember those days.
I remember flipping everything on in the morning and then going to make coffee and get breakfast started while you waited.
I also remember the ongoing debate over whether you should turn your computer off between work sessions or just turn it on in the morning and leave it on until you shut the house down at night.
Mechanics and screen-burn aside, if you shut it off before you brushed your teeth at night, suddenly wondering who played the best friend in a particular movie was going to have to wait until morning, because it was not worth powering up the whole system and dialing into AOL to find out.
And, dammit, we were smarter for having to think about it overnight.
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