CSotD: Cartoons Not About Turkeys
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Burned out on all those predictable Thanksgiving cartoons? Me, too. Fortunately, some other people had things to say.
The one that requires the least commentary is this Juliet Jones, which first appeared in 1959 and reminded me that, back then, salting your beer was a thing, and one roughly on a couthness level with this fellow, who is starting to look like a private eye or some other kind of under-the-counter authority.
Budweiser actually ran ads asking people not to salt their beer, extolling the excellent flavor they had brewed into the stuff. But then people also used to pour beer and tomato juice 50/50 as a hangover cure, and there was a popular saying, "What do you want? Egg in your beer?"
In any case, it was a nostalgia rush, and a clever tip-off from Stan Drake that this guy is likely a tough customer.
I guess the next stop should then be this also-blue-collar reference from Italian cartoonist Cristina Bernazzani over at Cartoon Movement. I think it's important to remember that the appeal to the frightened, uncertain working class is worldwide, because we've still got people here who don't get that and are trying to attach much more specific, local meanings to the Trump victory.
Somebody on Facebook asked if France would help us get our independence back this time, and the first response was a suggestion that he check out LePen and decide for himself.
More insidious and frustrating, an anti-Electoral College fellow complained about the "hicks" who elected Trump, wanting them disenfranchised, and was deaf to the notion that perhaps that kind of snotty attitude from city folks was what got him elected in the first place.
We're in one of those ""We must, indeed, all hang together, or most assuredly we shall all hang separately" situations, not just in the US but globally. A good first step might be to stop the name-calling and try to make common cause with the large number of people who can be reached.
Yes, even if they salt their beer.
I know! "Horrors!"
And Matt Wuerker probes some of their misbegotten fears, noting that more jobs have been lost to automation than to off-shoring, or, at least, that bringing them back wouldn't bring back the employment levels.
My junior year, I roomed with a fellow who had dropped out of school and was happily working at a service station, but, when I tell people stories of the time, I have to explain the concept of a "service station," which in this case included the fact that he worked 3 to 11 with another mechanic on hand. One of them pumped gas, checked tire pressure and oil and wiped windshields for customers while the other one was in the bay working on cars.
I doubt that even the handful of stations that still go that route have anyone doing brake jobs at 10 pm.
I've run into people who refuse the self-checkout at grocery stores because it's a job stealer, which is one of those tiny, personal boycotts that matter, but the checker's true ally is the technophobe who is scared to death to scan their own groceries.
Which also has to be the case at the bank, where I can drive straight up to the ATM while people are lined up for the teller. I don't think all those people are radical job-saving activists.
As for Uber, that's scab work. I'm not too concerned with whether they keep the jobs they stole from licensed cabbies.
But Wuerker is right and it's futile to try to get people to blame true reasons for things when they've been handed an easier, more emotionally satisfying explanation.
Meanwhile, back on a personal level, it was sad to see Notre Dame nailed for academic cheating, as Scott Stantis notes, but confirmation that my old alma mater has gone off the rails since my time there, which I kind of knew already.
You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows, especially when there is a skunk in the works.
The scandal here is that an athletic trainer was writing papers for athletes, which is not on a level with the scandal at the University of Georgia in the '80s, but is bad enough, thank you. The NCAA does not require a paper trail with a signed letter saying, "Would you please help these young lads remain eligible by cheating for them?" and, rather, relies on "institutional control," which means that you are supposed to know what's going on.
When I was in school, the biggest "cheat" was a couple of professors — "A-B Brennan" and "99 Klein," both nicknamed for the grades they dispensed – and a course in Irish History which was rumored to only require attendance.
However, I took my summer make-up course in calc from 99 Klein and about half the guys in the room were non-athletes. And he flunked a couple of the jocks who didn't show up.
And we knew one star had his girlfriend writing papers for him, but he was bright enough to do it himself. He was just a slacker, more beloved by Sports Illustrated than by anyone who knew him.
Notre Dame is taking the honorable, high road: "We didn't know! How could we possibly have known?"
Oh, I don't know. Institutional control?
Maybe not. From that press release:
The NCAA has never before vacated the records of an institution that had no involvement in the underlying academic misconduct, and the membership has since voted to change the rule that brought this case within NCAA jurisdiction.
Finally, Bug Martini brings up a problem I only sort-of had to deal with. Since my chemo ended after one treatment, my hair only half fell out. So I never got to worry about looking like Vin Diesel because I hung up at the Marat/Sade level.
And now it's grown back in the popular "Crazy Grandpa" style, utterly untameable and pointed in every direction. Anyone who wants to copy that for solidarity is welcome to try.
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