Hate Humor?

Bizarro is brought to you today by The Elephant Boy.

It's been hate mail week here at Bizarro International Headquarters. I got a few letters on each of the first two comics posted here.

Several people thought that the Elephant Snowman cartoon was insensitive to people suffering from deformities and found it incomprehensible that I made fun of them in this way. I politely explained that I was not making fun of deformities, but simply finding a funny way to lampoon a famous line from a movie, David Lynch's The Elephant Man. It was suggested in strong terms that I apologize to all of the people who suffer from so-called "Elephantitis" (Proteus syndrome) and after a little research I found that there are about 100 such people living in the world today. If any of them are readers of Bizarro, I hope they understood the cartoon the way it was intended. I'm kind of guessing there aren't any but you can never be too careful.

A side note: I did not receive complaints on either of these two cartoons on the same subject. One. The other.

I thought the hate mail fest was over, but then I got a couple of letters about this spoof of the La-Z-Boy recliner. Apparently people who are related to people suffering from mental disorders, like schizophrenia, object to the term "crazy." That makes sense, I suppose, but I would contend that this is not a joke that perpetuates the poor treatment of those with mental illnesses, it's just a silly pun on "lazy". As with the PC language movement in general, I don't believe changing what people call people does much to change the way they react to them. I think it's a chicken-or-the-egg situation: the term "negro" was polite until bigots used it with enough frequency that it became a slur. "Black" wasn't derogatory when African-Americans chose it for themselves in the 1960s, it became derogatory because it has been standard for decades and bigotry is still common. Eventually, "African-American" will be thought of as derogatory as well. Etc., etc., and on and on. A large percentage of us are jerks, no matter what language we are taught to use.

For the record, I'm not a jerk. I don't knowingly discriminate against people for things that are beyond their control like appearance, ethnicity, mental or physical disabilities, sexual orientation, height, etc. I often discriminate against people for their beliefs and behavior, however. I'm a discriminating discriminator.

Looking for a smooth segue? How could you ask for a smoother one than from that last discussion to this cartoon about gay horses? I'm so glad that our government has finally joined the 21st century and repealed the military's "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" policy. If someone is willing to wield a gun to defend me I don't give a damn what turns them on. Of course, it won't end discrimination, but it's a baby step in the right direction.

In summary:
I apologize to victims of Proteus syndrome if my joke bothered you.
I apologize to the mentally impaired and their loved ones if my joke bothered them.
I'm a bigot toward bigots and I don't apologize.
And while I'm at it, it occurs to me that this post wasn't very funny so I apologize for that, too.

So very, very sorry for so, so much.

If you'd like to peruse many fine products with the above cartoons emblazoned thereupon, click the cartoon.

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NY Giants

I'm a sports fan, though not fanatically so. I was writing to a friend of mine about the hideous loss by the NY Giants yesterday, a game which they led by a score of 21-3 at halftime. I thought some of you might enjoy it. You will find it funnier if you have a good understanding of football, but others might enjoy it, too. Let's begin.

Eric,
I watched the Giants/Eagles game yesterday and was severely injured. The onslaught of utter idiocy by several members of the NY Giants football club in the second half was more than I could bear. I closed my eyes, covered my head, crawled underneath a heavy piece of furniture, held my nose. But still, the tempest was too great and my entire body was crushed by the debris that was their 2nd half performance. Even with my nose pinched closed, it filled my lungs. Now I have Stupid Lung Disease.

When I watch pro football, I often find myself exclaiming, "How can you be so stupid as to jump offsides on 4th and four? Shouldn't you KNOW by now that that's what the other team is counting on? They are NOT going to hike the ball. They're going to wait until time runs out, take the penalty and punt. Just relax, wait for 15 seconds, doze off if you like, the whistles will wake you. Or, if these concepts are too abstract for you, look at that ball that is right in front of you. Don't move unless it does."

Or sometimes I say, "How did you get this far in the NFL and not know that the people wearing costumes different than yours are going to try to take that ball out of your hand? They aren't chasing you because they like your cologne, it's the ball you're holding loosely, away from your body. If you want to save your body a lot of wear and tear, just hand it to them. But if you, like them, want to keep the ball, you should consider holding it snugly, perhaps with both hands."

And I frequently say something like, "The whole reason those big numbers are on the front and back of everyone's blouse is so participants can be identified. See that number? That belongs to their best receiver. You, or someone dressed like you, will want to stay close to that person in case the ball comes near them. It's the ball you're after, remember?"

And when the Giants play the Philadelphia Eagles I often find myself exclaiming to the people in blue on my screen, "See that guy who gets the ball first thing on every play? He can run real fast. May I suggest you put someone who can run real fast up close so they can stop him? Those huge, fat guys don't seem to be able to touch him unless he stands stock still. I doubt they could catch me either, and I'm 5', 7" and 52 years old."

So during yesterday's ass-raping defeat, I wondered why the coaches have so much trouble drilling these simple principles into their players' heads, concepts that are the sort of thing that anyone should be able to manage, athletic ability notwithstanding: Hold it tight, don't move until the ball does, don't let that one guy run around by himself. It seems so simple, but then I remember that it is professional football players they are talking to. Some of them are smart enough to understand deeper concepts than "hit anyone wearing different clothing than yours real hard," but there are always plenty on any team who couldn't pour piss out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. I can only imagine how frustrating it must be for the coaches. Like trying to teach a dog not to bark when someone knocks on the door, or teaching a cat to purchase her own cat food online. Some of these guys are only using a small, primitive part of their brain that the rest of us have abandoned for all uses except illicit sex in an airplane toilet.

I can't help but feel sorry for the smart people on a team, but then I remember that that is why I dropped out of football in Junior High, even though I was still pretty good at it. Success depends on a team effort and there were just too many drooling idiots on the team. So I suppose smart NFL players got what they asked for by sticking with it.

I won't get started on how much money some of these neanderthal primates make. Anyone who thinks life on earth is a meritocracy is a big enough boob to play pro football.

Thanks, I feel better.
d

"This is why I don't carry a gun to games." –– Tom Coughlin, NY Giants head coach

Sexy Children Dogs

Bizarro is brought to you today by Contraceptive Fashion.

People Magazine's Sexiest Man Alive issue comes out on November 17th and if they don't pick me this year, I say SCREW THEM. I have all of the qualifications they list: I'm alive and I'm sexy. (Says CHNW) So what is the holdup?

If they pick some damn vampire actor again, I'm going to the deli across the street from my apartment and turning over the magazine rack. Seriously.

On to more pleasant topics, here is a cartoon about witches who eat children. So she's heading out to pick up lunch with an empty stroller. Get it? What's funnier than eating children?
(Note to children reading this blog: Ask your parents if they have updated the anti-witch security devices in your home. Firefighters recommend changing the batteries on January 1st each year.)

Finally, from the archival vault (trash bags in my basement) comes this ancient Sunday comic from October of 1998. This was before I started coloring on computer, hence the colour de crapola, as they say in French. You can click on it to achieve biggerness, which will enable you to read it more good.














Dogs are so cute. By the way, where can I get one of these for my very own?


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Zilla Math Cell Phone

Bizarro is brought to you today by No One Zilla.

Today is a special presentation of Unusual Mail From Unusual Readers. The day after the Godzilla cartoon at left ran in the paper, I was copied on the following email, sent to the Tacoma News Tribune editor. The author allowed that I may post this letter here as long as I do not edit it in any way, including his "job title."

October 19, 2010

Dear Tacoma News Tribune Editors:

I would like to correct a misperception that Dan Piraro, creator of the
"Bizarro" comic panel, has introduced with his 10/18/10 panel. In it he shows a
Godzillan instructor before a blackboard on which the populations of Tokyo and
Wyoming are written (12,790,000 and 493,782, respectively), explaining to a
couple of lecture attendees that "As you can see, the caloric density of Tokyo
is more than two dozen times that of the entire state of Wyoming." While
technically correct, this vastly understates Tokyo's superiority as a homo
sapien meat source over Wyoming. Piraro has made the simple error of dividing
the two populations to obtain his "two dozen times" figure. Caloric density,
however, is a function of food source population divided by the food source's
geographical area. Tokyo covers 844 square miles while Wyoming covers 97,814
square miles, meaning that the caloric densities of Tokyo and Wyoming are 15,154
humans per square mile and 5 humans per square mile, respectively. Thus the
caloric density of Tokyo is more than 3,000 or 250 dozen times that of Wyoming,
not 24 or two dozen as Piraro states. For any species dependent in whole or
part on human flesh for its survival, that is a huge difference. (Why the
difference? Overconsumption of human stock in Wyoming by Tyrannosaurus Dick.)
I don't wish to unduly criticize Dan Piraro, who is a fine cartoonist, but I'm
sure that if Gary Larson were still covering the animal husbandry beat, this
error would not have crept into the pages of your newspaper. I hope you will
publish this letter to properly inform your readers of Tokyo's true magnificence
as a food source. To reassure readers unable to afford transoceanic passage to
Japan, I note that the caloric densities of Tacoma and Seattle are 4,107 and
6,799 humans per square mile, respectively. While Seattle-area metropolises
don't offer as calorie-abundant an environment as Tokyo, Seattleites' rich diet
of liberal hypocrisy, complacency, and arrogance make them some of the tastiest
eating on the planet.

Sincerely,
Brett Landgraf
The Pink Nigger

His math is correct, of course, and I regret the error. Mr. Landgraf and I have corresponded on another occasion, which I will not post in its entirety here, in which he explained why he insists on being called "The Pink Nigger." His answer, paraphrased, is that his skin is pink (caucasian) and he is, at least in part, a slave to property and labor markets. My guess is that he is fiercely libertarian, but I could be wrong. Whatever his philosophy, I found his letter amusing and wanted to share. (Note: I'm not one to believe that words are taboo, only context. If I thought his use of "nigger" was meant to promote racism, I wouldn't have posted it here.)

On to the next cartoon: I thought of this gag when trapped in public on my cell phone during a difficult conversation. I wanted to scream but did not wish to abuse the others around me. And no, it was not a conversation with CHNW.

For today's blast from the Bizarro archives, click on the No One Zilla link in the first sentence of this post.

Cheers. (salutation, not sit-com)



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Cancer Fuss

Yesterday's post garnered some criticism about my assertion that there would be less cancer if people ate vegan diets. I don't want to start a never-ending war of comments and I normally would answer this kind of thing in the comments section itself, but this seemed important enough to post about. As requested, here is a link to one of many articles that supports my comment:

http://www.pcrm.org/resch/edresources/nutr_curr/nutr_curr_2.html

There are many other studies cited on that site, which is run by Physicians Committee for Responsible Medicine, not fringe animal rights activists. I just wanted respond to the accusation that I am spouting off irresponsibly or without evidence. Each person's ethical code is their own business, of course, but mine does not allow the intentional victimization of another for my own benefit, except in cases of self defense against that other being. So I don't believe in torturing others to cure ourselves. That's just me, your results may vary and objects in mirror are closer than they appear.

In short, according to medical information I've read: yes, cancer has numerous causes, susceptibility is genetic, and diet can strongly affect your chances of getting it and recovering from it.

3-fer Saturday

Bizarro is brought to you today by Religious Interpretation.

Today's extra special 3-fer is a jam packed full of various things that are sure to amuse somebody somewhere for some reason for at least a few seconds. I hope you're one of them.

The first comic includes a reference to Tarzan's Hollywood sidekick, a chimp named Cheeta. Cheeta's shirt is a satire of the popular middle-American saying, "WWJD?" which stands for "what would jesus do?" Popular with Christian teens, I suppose it was invented as a way to keep reminding teenagers that a vengeful god is watching them and they'd better not try to get away with anything. I didn't see this cartoon as a slap at religion but one reader did, telling me I owed him an apology and that my cartoon likely angered Jesus, which he insinuated was not a good thing and something I should be afraid of. I'm not inclined to believe that if some kind of god does exist, it would be so petty and insecure as to be insulted this easily.

Cartoon #2 is a simple illustration of a different meaning for the common claim that something or someone is huge in Japan. Nothing much to say here except that googling images of sumo wrestlers for reference reminded me of how utterly weird humans are.

Our final cartoon today is a Sunday panel and employs one of my favorite cartoon gimmicks – leading the reader to think one thing at first glance only to reveal after reading the caption that the picture is not what it seems. Here, most people's first assumption is that the horse is running when in fact, he is hovering in place. I particularly like the way the drawing came out on this one. The looks on both horses' faces adds to the joke and the cowboy on the hover-horse looks appropriately goofy. I also love doing this kind of desert background. Be sure to click on the image for a larger view.

Enjoy your weekend. That's an order.

The Flood

Bizarro is brought to you today by Human Ingenuity.

Every thinking person has considered at one time or another how the world will end. By "the world" we always mean humanity, of course, as if the entire existence of the planet were about us. It is a common religious tenet that the world was created for humans but this self-centered idea is one that I believe to be born of ignorance and superstition.

I was indoctrinated with this concept, too, and believed it for most of my life; it's difficult to let go of things ingrained in us when we are very young. But acquainting myself with the body of knowledge about the earth and the universe that humans have gathered with our nimble brains over the past several thousand years, it became increasingly obvious that nothing could be further from the truth. We are but passengers on a ship along with millions of other species of plants and animals, all of which balance rather delicately upon each other.

There is also human arrogance in the idea that we will end it all with some amazing invention like the atomic bomb – killed by our own awesomely ingenious amazingness. Oh, the tragic drama of it all. In fact, it looks as though the end of us will be at the hands of a leaky pipe.

As T. S. Eliot said, "Not with a bang but a whimper."

More About Smoking

I wrote about smoking laws a few days back and got a lot of comments, mostly angry ones. I answered many of these comments with my own comments but people typically don't read those and I keep getting the same accusations and derisions, so I thought I'd post my updated thoughts about smoking laws here.

1. Yes, I agree that second-hand smoke can be a health hazard. My argument is that occasionally passing a person on the street who is smoking will not give you cancer. (Note to asthma sufferers: I'm not talking about asthma here.)

2. I do NOT believe that ALL restaurants and bars should allow smoking. I hated those days, too. I'm saying that ALL restaurants and bars should not be REQUIRED to ban it. Most people do not like smoke and would choose smoke-free establishments so there would be plenty of them to choose from. Simple supply and demand. A small percentage would allow smoking, thus giving waitpersons and bartenders plenty of options for working in a smoke-free environment or one that allows smoking. (Note to anyone feeling indignation at this moment: I am NOT saying that you or your loved ones will have to work in a smoke-filled room. This is purely conjecture on my part. Just my opinion; life isn't perfect, neither am I.)

3. I do NOT deny that smoking is a health hazard. My point is only that it is a long-term hazard for some people, not a death sentence for anyone who smells it wafting by on a windy day.

4. Yes, smoke smells bad to non-smokers. That's reason enough to ban it in public buildings. You're right. I agree. We smokers are despicable.

I hope this decree is taken in the spirit of reconciliation in which it is intended. Yes, I smoke cigars, but I won't do it in your home, church or place of business unless you invite me to.

Thanks for reading and please don't hate me. Now check out the next post, which features a cartoon.

Smells

Bizarro is brought to you today by A Good Read.

As many of my readers know, I'm not a fan of many of America's anti-smoking laws and I can honestly say that I'd hold the same opinion even if I didn't smoke. Quite frankly, blanket bans on public smoking verge on fascism. It proposes no health risk whatsoever to smell someone's cigarette, cigar or pipe as it wafts by in an unenclosed space. None. You could smell smoke in a public park every day for a thousand years and not get cancer. Tobacco smoke is not cyanide gas.

Allowing merchants to ban smoking in their establishment is fine. But to ban it in all buildings, regardless of the preferences of the owner, manager, or patrons is ridiculous. Why can't a bar owner in NYC decide for himself if he wants to allow smoking? No one is required to be in a bar. Proponents of these laws say that it exposes the employees to a health risk. First, the health risk of breathing second-hand smoke on the job is negligible, far less than eating meat and dairy. Second, no one is required to work there.

In California (and some other places) you can't smoke within 25 feet of a building. For those of you outside of California, this isn't a joke, they're actually protecting the health of bricks and masonry. This law is clearly nothing more than a vendetta against a habit that some people find unappealing.

There are plenty of habits I find unappealing, if I can get enough people behind me, does it make sense in a free society to ban them? I love music but hearing music that I did not choose to listen to at that moment bugs the crap out of me, for instance: In cars, stores, restaurants, taxis, nightclubs, you name it. Nine times out of ten it is something I do not have on my iPod and I can honestly say that it annoys me as much as smelling smoke annoys other people. I'm sure there are other people who feel the same way, shall we outlaw all music that is audible to more than the person who chose to play it?

I don't like ugly clothing or hairstyles, either. Let's ban them in all public buildings and within 25 feet of doorways. And in public parks and on beaches, too. Soda pop and junk food also disgust me and are as clear a long-term health risk as is smoking. Out you go. And don't get me started about some people's accents. A nasally southern twang makes me want to jump in front of a train.

I'm guessing that most people don't share my view and some may claim democracy and say the majority wins. But that's not really what a free society is about. It means we're all free to do what we choose if it isn't injuring others. An odor we find unpleasant isn't really injury, it's momentary inconvenience, as it is with music, ugly hairdos and twangy nose-talkers.

Mind you, I don't think smoking bans will ever be repealed, I'm just whining.

Racist Humor?

(For a larger view, click a peep)
Bizarro is brought to you today by Other Peeps.

Just as I predicted, I got an angry letter from someone who thought this cartoon was racist. It is my humble opinion that many Americans are confused about the very definition of the word, believing that any mention of a minority group in anything other than complimentary terms constitutes racism. They are wrong.

If this cartoon had implied that all African Americans dressed or talked this way, or were somehow inferior, untrustworthy, un-anything you'd have racism. All this cartoon does is depict an alternative meaning of a common phrase used by a common person in common dress. Yes, this character is a stereotype but he is one that roams my Brooklyn neighborhood in droves and the cartoon does not disparage him. It only depicts him. You may feel that stereotypes of any kind are wrong, but then you'd have to start complaining about every businessman or housewife or family dog in every cartoon you ever read. That would get tiresome, although I would doubtless get a lot of entertainment from the letters.

Cartoonists deal in stereotypes routinely, it is how we communicate. It is also what enables the reader to recognize the character and gives context to their predicament or dialogue. It is my opinion that calling everything racism detracts from actual racism.

It should be noted that the person who wrote to me wasn't even black. Oy vey.

Naughty Priests

Bizarro is brought to you today by Unconventional Clerics.

I probably should have predicted that this cartoon would receive some complaints but I didn't. I was raised Catholic, went to Catholic Schools, was even an altar boy, and even though I am atheist now, one thing I've always liked about Catholics – over some other Christian denominations I've been acquainted with – is that they tend to have a pretty good sense of humor about their beliefs. That doesn't include every Catholic, obviously, so objections and outrage were expressed.

My suspicion is that the outrage wasn't as much about this cartoon as about public scrutiny of Catholics in general. Because some Catholic priests have been under attack in recent years for their improprieties with children, some Catholics are more sensitive than they might otherwise be.

Here's my amateur "expert" opinion on the pedophilia situation, and remember, it's worth what you're paying for it:

Nobody determines their sexual appetite, it just happens to us. Gay, straight, fat, thin, young, old, blonde, brunette, we like what we like and we can't change that. Many people with unpopular or even illegal sexual proclivities – homosexuals, pedophiles – are raised to feel guilty about their desires and some attempt to take refuge in the celibacy of the priesthood. I seriously doubt any of these priests joined the priesthood with the intention of molesting anyone. My guess is that they thought that their faith and lifestyle within the church would protect them from their desires. But sexual desire is among the strongest forces known in nature and most people cannot keep theirs at bay forever. So they give in and then go to great lengths to try to hide it.

I think it bears noting that there has never been a shortage of priests who break their vows of celibacy in legal ways, but they don't make headlines because they have not broken the law and the sex was consensual. Celibacy is a bitch, no matter who you are or what your reasons. (You may quote me.)

This is in no way meant to imply that homosexuals are pedophiles or that homosexuality is even in the same class of socially dangerous behavior. I only grouped them together here in the category of "sexual orientations likely to cause guilt." While sex with children is a devastating act that can never be condoned and guilt is therefore appropriate, we have only ourselves to blame for making homosexuals feel guilty about relations between consenting adults. The notion that homosexuality between consenting adults is "wrong" is archaic and, quite frankly, idiotic. Even more idiotic are people who think that anyone "chooses" their sexual orientation. If you are one of these people, ask yourself if you chose yours. Now ask yourself if you could completely change those desires if you put your mind to it – become gay if you're straight, or vice versa. Of course not.

Regarding this cartoon, just as the vast majority of priests have not molested children, I suspect that virtually none share what they hear in confession. The preposterous nature of the scenario is what makes it funny. If it's funny at all, of course.

That's my take on the predatory priest situation. For what it's worth, in all the years I was a kid in the church, no one ever said or did anything to me that was in the least inappropriate. Which, to be honest, made me feel ugly and undesirable.*

*Kidding. No more complaints, please.

Destroying the Lives of Children

Bizarro is brought to you today by Animal Husbandry.

Last week my cartoon was drawing attacks from all quarters. Yesterday's post was a bout a plagiarism accusation, today's is about my mistreatment of preschool icons. Below is the email I received, in its entirety:

I usually do not take the time to write someone about a comic strip. But this time I could not just ignore it.

I take EXTREME OFFENSE at your comic today. I am surprised Sesame Street hasn't talked to you yet. (How does she know they haven't?)
The Birds (Capitalized?) in the your comic strip today are very obviously Big Bird and Foghorn Leghorn.

You are making these characters out to be bullies. That is NOT what these characters stand for.
They are good characters, and I feel you are beating up on their images by using them.

I have two younger children that love to read the comics everyday with me (age 7 & 10).
When they saw what you had drawn, I'm not sure they will never want to see your comic strip again.
They were both extremely offended (as was I) and at the ages they are they knew that Big Bird would
NEVER do anything like that!!!!!! (Then what is the problem?)

It is NOT FUNNY to bully someone's image like that, to infer that they would do anything like that.
(I believe she means "insinuate." "Inferring" is what she's doing.)

To pick on an image that has been out in this world doing nothing but good for over 40 years is SHAMEFUL!!!
You should be ashamed of yourself for picking on something as PURE as Big Bird!

Sincerely,
Name withheld because I'm embarrassed for her.

I responded politely to her note, as I invariably do, and told her that everyone knows that Big Bird would never act this way and that is what makes it funny. I suggested that if she explained that to her children they would no longer be upset by the cartoon and learn a little something about the way humor works, too. I got no response.

Oh, the tremendous weight of social responsibility that a cartoonist bears.

Challenges of the Musically Challenged

Bizarro is brought to you today by Educational Literature.

I have a good friend back in Texas who has run a recording studio for decades. Every now and then he'll share some of the more "noteworthy" music that he has recorded for clients there and I often wonder how he survives. As we know from the popular TV show, "American Idol," (which I am proud to say I've never watched a moment of, the commercials are plenty) not everyone who thinks they can be a rock star has a single iota of talent.

For reasons unclear to me, I'm particularly sensitive to music. I literally cannot tolerate listening to music that I don't like. I become instantly irritable, my heart rate rises, my teeth turn into fangs and I am not satisfied until someone is dead. I don't mean to say that I'm a public *sshole about it, but I will quietly leave a store or restaurant if the music is offensive to me, whether I've finished my business there or not. This is perhaps the biggest reason I dislike the Xmas season so much, the offensive music is ubiquitous.

It wouldn't be such a curse if I liked most popular music, but I don't. I'm very picky. Any single song from any recording of such popular bands as Eagles, Steely Dan, Steve Miller Band, Abba, Billy Joel, Metallica, Rush, all hip hop (yes, I know that is a very general statement, but I can't stand 'rhyme talking' of any kind,) drives me over a cliff. And that's just a fraction of the bands I can't stand. I wish I wasn't this way, but there's nothing I can do about it.

That being said, I've been learning to play the guitar and have been writing songs and recording them on my computer. One day I'm going to record them in a "real" studio and sell a CD through my website and this blog. So I may be the guy behind the glass in the cartoon above soon enough (though it's a cinch my music will ever be popular enough to drive shoppers from stores.)

Until tomorrow, be well, earth travelers.

Playing With Your Food

Bizarro is brought to you today by Bill Maher.

As a lot of you know, like my friend Bill Maher, I'm an ethical vegan. (As opposed to someone who is vegan purely for his own health.) I occasionally think of cartoons that have to do with this topic and its related issues – nutrition, cruelty, health, the environment – and I toss them into the mix. I have been guilty of being pretty preachy about it in the past, it is difficult not to be when you are fighting against the suffering of those unable to speak for themselves, but I try very hard not to be and I hope I'm getting better.

I think this is a fairly successful cartoon in that regard. It evokes the subject of food choices without being overt. To me, there is something inherently funny about a little girl expected to slaughter a live chicken at her school lunch table.

Lots of people are concerned about environmental issues these days, so they choose local foods to save the pollution caused by shipping foods across country. If you're doing this but still buying meat, you're undoing your efforts many times over. Animal agriculture is responsible for far more greenhouse gases than all transportation combined.

Many people insist on organic meats to protect their family from harmful chemicals. Animal protein, in and of itself, feeds cancer and heart disease as fast as the hormones and chemicals you fear. Organic meat is a bit like organic bullets. It misses the larger point.

Many people become angry and defensive when they hear these things and I understand that. Attacking a person's diet is like attacking their religion, ethnicity, traditions, and family. Sorry about that. I'm the sort of person who is more than willing to toss a tradition overboard if it serves no purpose, harms me, or depends on the victimization of someone else. Like cheap sneakers made by orphans, I can do without them. It's just how I roll, homey.

Obsessive Compulsive Cartooning (OCC)

Bizarro is brought to you today by The Magically Aging Man.

Whenever I do cartoons about disabilities or diseases, I get complaints from people who think it is insensitive to make fun of people with problems. I did a cartoon a few years ago about a band called the "A.D.D.s" in which all of the teenage musicians were scattered about the stage, busy doing something other than playing music. I got a ton of mail from angry parents of kids with A.D.D. Same thing happens if I do one on dyslexia or amputees.

In this case, I figured it was safe to make fun of this topic because I have a touch of OCD myself. Just as predicted, I got a ton of mail complaining about this cartoon. Although, perhaps not surprisingly, it was all from the same person.

NOTE: I think it bears mentioning that in each of these types of circumstances (and last week during the "Death With Dignity" controversy) I also get mail from people within these movements or suffering from these afflictions who really enjoy the humorous take on the subject at hand. Many people understand the healing properties of laughing at one's own hardships.

Death Controversy

Bizarro is brought to you today by Ways To Get Arrested in the Park.

When this cartoon published a week ago, I got a flood of emails from angry readers. What I thought was an innocent albeit surreal take on an old expression – death with dignity – was seen by many to be a jab at the political movement to secure a person's right to physician-assisted suicide. Unbeknownst to me, (because I don't pay much attention to life outside of my own tiny world, I suppose) there is a law in Oregon about this called the Death with Dignity Act.

This topic doesn't get much press here in NYC, at least not that I've noticed, so I didn't actually think about this when doing this cartoon. I don't mind offending people with whom I disagree if I feel strongly enough about a topic, but I hate offending people by accident, especially when I agree with them in the first place.

I've long supported any person's right to end their life when they wish to, especially in situations of chronic pain and illness. I think that denying this fundamental right of self determination is superstitious, archaic, and cruel. The sad truth is that even if a person is in excruciating pain, has no chance of survival and decides completely of their own sound mind that they want to end their life, anyone who aids them in any way can go to jail. As I understand it (and correct me if I'm wrong) in most states even if a person attains the means to do this on their own, anyone present while they do it can go to jail. So a person who somehow gets hold of enough pills to kill themself wants to go peacefully, surrounded by family and loved ones, they can't unless everyone in the room is willing to head to the slammer. Instead, their only option is to die alone, climb out of a window, hang themselves, blow their brains out, whatever they can manage in their condition. Of course, most people just choose to waste away slowly in agony because it is their only legal option. This is the law's idea of "respect" for human life.

So I spent a couple of days writing apologies to various readers and making statements to various groups and I think I've straightened it all out. I certainly hope that if the time comes that I want to check out of this life with some dignity, the law allows me the freedom to do so.

Hatred Holidays

Bizarro is brought to you today by Here Come The Holidays.

I'm not one of those people who complain about seeing Santa and hearing Xmas songs before Thanksgiving. I tend to complain that I have to endure these things at all, any time of year, because I truly despise the ugly, crass, festival of insincerity that Xmas has become. This is a holiday that should be celebrated quietly at home, if at all, and those of us who do not celebrate it should not even notice its passing. Like Yom Kippur.

That's the way it was before Washington Irving decided to make up a lot of holiday traditions and promote the idea that Xmas should be a big, noisy, tacky whoop-de-doo. Stores caught onto the idea and helped it along and before you know it, most Americans were celebrating Xmas with gifts and songs and decorations as if it were an ancient tradition.

I'm sure things were more-or-less within reason in those early days, but like everything else modern-day America touches, it is now a ghastly commercial orgy that assaults the eyes and ears of everyone within 500 miles of its borders. I even saw giant Xmas decorations at a department store in a Buddhist country in Asia back in 2000. Apparently you have to go to Iran to escape elves and flying reindeer.

So I say, "Pull that trigger, Mr. Pilgrim, and bury the evidence before it gets out of hand. You have no idea what you're in for."

Yes, I know I'm a huge pain-in-the-ass Grinch/Scrooge about this. All my friends and family gleefully celebrate Xmas while I sit quietly at home without decorations and with the TV mute on, lest I accidentally subject myself to the sound of jingling bells during a Best Buy commercial. (Just typing that made my skin crawl.)

How did I get this way? I have no idea. I enjoyed it as a kid – Santa, toys, the food, the tree, the TV specials, the songs, mom bringing home sailors on holiday leave and making me wait in a box in the basement, the lights and decorations. But as an adult, year by year, I became increasingly uncomfortable with it until I finally snapped like a dry holly branch under the hoof of a plummeting reindeer and declared myself the archenemy of all things Xmas. Self indulgent hypocrisy has always turned my stomach and modern American Xmas is the blaring, screeching, glittering, multi-billion-dollar embodiment of it. To my mind, anyway.

Here's hoping you all have a nice holiday season, please keep the noise down.

Brady Apocalypse Pants

Bizarro is brought to you today by Towel Paradise.

Since I didn't post any cartoons last week while I was away, here are a few of my favorites from the missing week to catch up a bit.

The onion gag is funny to me, but I also like the dude's Brady Bunch hairdo. I don't normally draw men with this kind of coif, but I will be doing more of it in the future because of it's awesomeness.

The "End of the World" gag is a version of the man-carrying-end-of-the-world-sign cartoon cliche. Longtime readers (both of them) know that I enjoy putting a new spin on the classic cartoon motifs, and I thought this one was fun. Like all living humans under the age of 70, I am on Facebook, but I can't say that I get anything out of it. If I want to say something to someone, I send them an email (call me old fashioned) and because my name is known by more people than I know, I get so many messages on there that I don't have time to do anything other than click "accept" on friend requests and "ignore" on everything else. I don't join groups or causes, don't send "pokes" or "bites" or "transfusions" or whatever else they have on there, and I don't read invitations. Nothing personal, I just don't have the time.


The baggy pants joke is my favorite of these three. Anyone who knows me is well aware of my constant and decades-long stupefaction over the baggy pants fad. Anything about giant, baggy pants is and has always been funny. That's why clowns wear them.

I hope to have time to do my travelogue blog tomorrow. Tune in then, my frenz.

We Are All Hitler

Bizarro is brought to you today by The Truth.

If there is one thing the children of America are learning it is that if you don't like something, compare it to Hitler. I wish I had known this when I was a kid. So many times I was told to go to my room and think about what I'd done (just like Hitler used to do to the Jews!) and even though I was angry and felt I was being treated unfairly, I did not know to compare my parents to Hitler. Live and learn.

The political discourse in our beloved U.S. of A. has become so ludicrous that it can barely be satirized. Still, I hope I've done a decent job here. The sort of things some Americans are teaching their children with the dreck they plaster on signs and march up and down the streets with is appalling, and we will all suffer the consequences of these drones when they grow up and inflict their warped sensibilities on society in more robust ways. Many will even have their own TV shows.

I think most Americans are still relatively sensible and don't equate Obama's efforts to help people other than the uber-rich with Hitler, but they don't get the media coverage. So it's the media's fault. The media are Hitler.

To be honest, I'm not sure who is Hitler, but I'm sure he's out there. Lurking, waiting to make his move. Get ready for mandatory mustaches, people.

NOTE: Good news at Bizarro Headquarters: I did not die yesterday afternoon. So there will be no theories about whether yesterday's post was a prophecy or a suicide note in disguise. I'm not planning to leave the house today, increasing my chances of living another 24 hours, so everyone can relax. If I get to feeling woozy or anything, I'll post an emergency paragraph or two before I call 911. Stay tuned.

Death By Entertainment

Bizarro is brought to you at this moment by The Roman Colesseum.

I got into another family's car recently (I was invited, it wasn't a car-jacking) and saw that there were two separate DVD players on the backs of the front seats. In this way, their two children could each watch their own programming while riding in the car. Perhaps it was an overreaction, but I vomited.

When I was a kid (oh god, I hate sentences that start out that way) my siblings and I looked out the windows when we were in the car, even on long, long, interminably long car trips. If we wanted something else to do, we played games wherein we counted things. When we were bored with that, we punched and bit each other.

I wonder if the children in the aforementioned family have any idea what lies outside their own home and car. I wonder if they can identify a 3-dimensional cow standing by the roadside. Or if they know what high speed wind feels like against a rigid hand, or what a pop bottle sounds like when it shatters against the windshield of an oncoming car.

I fear for the future when the video generation are in charge. Their insatiable thirst for constant entertainment will likely make the blood lust of the ancient Romans look like child's play. I foresee a time when the Cottonbowl will be used to feed atheists to lions.