Sheldon (independent) pretty well sums up the hazards of knowing what’s going on in the world, and the last two or three days have been astonishingly toxic and depressing.
I woke up this morning and found my newsfeeds full of people trying to decide how they should respond to the president and his wife testing positive for Covid: Whether to celebrate the schadenfreude or behave decently, and it makes you wonder how we got to that place, y’know?
But before that, I had stumbled across the news that Kimberley Guilfoyle is apparently even more weird than she seemed at the GOP convention and that the wife of the guy who brags about making it okay to say “Merry Christmas” is introducing a new phrase for the holiday, and I had already been thinking of parallels between Trump losing the support of Scott Adams and when LBJ lost Cronkite, except that Adams backweaseled and the Cronkite thing apparently never quite happened either.
But, mostly, you can’t spend three and a half years nattering on about what it really means to be a Christian and then ignore 1 John 4:20 when you’re put to the test.
Never mind. We’ll think about that tomorrow. Let’s have some Friday Funnies:
I think it’s still okay to hate heartless robots who fire people by the book, and today’s Alex (Telegraph) has a terrific set-up where we think for a moment that these guys actually care before they spring the punchline.
I had a friend at a major newspaper called into HR, who cut off her phone and email as she walked into the room, then frog-marched her out without even letting her fill the traditional cardboard box — she had to have (former) co-workers bring her the personal effects of a 20-some year-long career.
I don’t know how much money she’d made for them, but the two of us used to go to state and national conventions and do a how-to on fundraising, and she was certainly a net-positive. Imagine how she’d have been treated if she were costing them money!
I guess we’re not at the funny part of today’s posting yet, but Alex made me laff.
Kind of like the time I was at an AAEC convention and a cartoonist and I were swapping hospital stories and cracking up. Someone else came up and asked what was so funny and we turned to him and said, “Cancer.”
Some humor is a lot funnier from the inside.
This Bizarro (KFS), on the other hand, is packed with great, universal touches, starting with the overall concept of being driven home by a crash-test dummy who will do a better job of it than you in your current state, and then Wayno presenting us with what a ventriloquist’s dummy looks like when he’s wasted. Even his bowtie is wilted.
Plus the living in a suitcase thing.
Whether it’s Wayno’s dailies or Dan Piraro’s Sunday pieces, the graphics in Bizarro are as good as the gags, but, even for them, this is masterful work.
Tasteful Juxtaposition of the Day
Having a cat — even comicdom’s most authentic cat — instead of a dog puts some doubt on the idea of bringing home leftovers, even though the “doggy bag” concept is an accepted fraud by everyone involved.
But Jimmy Johnson must have worked in a restaurant, because this reminds me of a pizza/sandwich/grill place I worked where you could watch us cook, except if Sebastian the busboy let us know someone had left half a pizza. Then the whole front end emptied out into the back, and “FOOM!” is only a slight exaggeration.
And xkcd provides the homey sincere label we’d all like to see, though I think we’re currently in a cycle where Mom — currently “Grandma” — was a pretty good cook.
There was a point, mostly in post-WWII America, where Mom cooked with a can opener or by peeling back the foil, but, for us Boomers, while few of us ever really went back to the Earth, quite a lot of us went back to the stove.
At one middle-schoolish point, both my boys begged me to let them have Franco-American or Chef Boy-Ar-Dee, so I said they could each get two cans of their choice. We came home and they eagerly heated up whatever they’d bought and three months later, I donated the other two cans to a food drive.
Not sure being a better cook than Chef Boy-Ar-Dee exactly establishes bragging rights, but I’ll take what I get.
Juxtaposition of Quibbles
Taking a couple of cartoonists to the woodshed.
Since Lemont is established as a language pedant, you’d think he’d know that marines did, indeed, begin as the shipboard soldiers their name suggests, and landing on beaches from naval vessels remains a primary part of their mission.
And I don’t understand the updated joke in MGG, but I remember the original:
Doctor: Mrs. Jones, I have some good news!
Patient: That’s ‘Miss Jones.’
Doctor: Oh, Miss Jones, I have some bad news.
Not sure anyone much under 40 would even get that, but we thought it was funny.
We also ate Spaghetti-Os.
To drag ourselves back into the 21st Century, Between Friends (KFS) offers this contemporary scene. My policy is that, if they don’t simply let me click and unsubscribe, I mark them as spam, though that doesn’t work with my old university because they keep sending me emails from other alums, other clubs, other sources.
If Jimmy Hoffa had gone to college, the feds could simply ask his alumni association where he’d disappeared to.
Finally, a reminder from Non Sequitur (AMS) that not only is the stock market not the economy, but it isn’t even rational.
Most people don’t own stock, and most of the ones who do only “own” it because it’s embedded in their 401k’s.
And if you disagree, it’s probably because you’re a Capricorn.
Anyway, avoid the news today, eh?
Screw stock tips. Take a tip from the Tremeloes instead and just go back to bed.
With a friend.