Rats!

Bizarro is brought to you today by Dangerous Rodents.

I went to the DMV today because I wanted to waste a couple of hours, be amazed by the idiocy of human bureaucracy, and register a motorcycle I bought recently. I accomplished two of my three goals – the wasting time and idiocy amazement – but I did not get a plate for the bike. I am not surprised, it was only my first visit for this particular undertaking and one can never acheive anything at a New York City DMV in less than two trips. In fact, the sign posted at the waiting area clearly states:

TO REGISTER YOUR VEHICLE YOU WILL NEED:
1. A notarized title
1. Proof of insurance
3. Completed forms DTF-802 and MV-82
4. Two forms of current picture I.D.
5. Something you did not bring

Of course, I forgot to bring number 5. I'll try again tomorrow.

Prius vs. Prime Rib

If you are a person concerned with what you can do to help mitigate climate change, read this short article from the Washington Post.
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2009/07/28/AR2009072800390.html

Party On

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Just Say No.

I was a touch surprised that this cartoon got through the gauntlet of editors-that-be and appeared in newspapers all over the continent without any complaints. (That I know of.) My guess is that the kind of people who would object to this cartoon didn't understand it.

Usually, any reference to illegal "drugs" that is not wholly pro-abstinence gets some heat. In the interest of full disclosure, I am not an avid consumer of recreational drugs, though I've tried a few of the more popular ones. But on principle alone, I am incensed by the absurd notion that alcohol in moderation is acceptable but natural substances like hemp and psilocybin mushrooms are "of the devil."

What started with greedy capitalists wanting to ban natural substances they could not sell to the public so that they could make more money off of booze and nicotine (and paper made of wood, and cloth made of cotton instead of hemp) has received such a PR snowjob that most Americans still believe they should be illegal. Even people who have smoked pot and eaten mushrooms continue to lobby for their criminalization. How many of you learned in school that George Washington was a hemp farmer and believed it was the crop that the United States should build its economy on? That's my point, neither did I.

The reason these substances are associated with darkness and evil is because they are illegal and are sold by criminals. Marijuana is no more of a gateway to death by heroin overdose than Cheetos is to murder. (Statistics show that 99.8% of all convicted murderers have eaten Cheetos at some point in their life, many are even "addicted" to them.)

I'd love to see our society grow up, but I'm not holding my breath.

NOTE: To my mind there is a HUGE difference between natural substances like pot and mushrooms and manmade chemicals like acid, meth, XTC, etc. One can argue the logic of keeping those illegal or not, but my point here is that plants don't belong in the same category as those.

Fuggetabottit

Bizarro is brought to you today by Want To See My Spleen?

Near the top of my list of favorite things to do each day is climbing into bed at night and reading. (Other items on the list: pointing at rainbows, teaching my cat Tai Chi, running through crowded subways shouting "Grey's Anatomy is FAKE!")

I sometimes wonder if my bed looks forward to our time together as much as I do. Is it a willing participant in my nightly slumber? Does it sleep when I sleep or does it sleep during the day and lie awake all night wishing I'd get the hell off of it? And how does it feel about being used for sex?

Does the memory foam really remember me? If so, does it also remember my cats? If someone uses a memory foam mattress to cheat on their spouse, will it ever forget? When the mattress gets old, does it remember who slept on it thirty years ago but not who used it last night?

After all that musing, I'm embarrassed to say that I can't remember if my mattress is memory foam or not.

Whap Goes the Weasel

Bizarro today is brought to you by Carnivorous Cabbage.

One more cartoon from my friend and colleague, Wayno of Pittsburgh. I like his gags and have featured a small handful in Bizarro over the past few months, with his permission, of course.

I like the contradictory image of a guy using a "carrot on a stick," not to entice, but to intimidate. If you want to see more of what Wayno has been up to, he has asked me to direct you to his FacialBook page.

In other news, a reader in Scandinavia has permanently scarred his body with one of my bits of artwork and I wish to thank him for sending the photos below. I am always honored when this happens, and would like to publicly state here and now that anyone who indelibly disfigures their body with artwork from Bizarro will get a personal sympathy card from yours truly. Other, more egoistic cartoonists might offer currency, jewels, or merchandise, but I am a humble man.

Eating Ourselves

(To make the cartoon big, click on the seagull's left knee)

Bizarro is brought to you today by Geriatric Mouse Voice.

Judging by the emails I got last week, this cartoon was very popular with environmentally conscious readers. Destruction of ocean life is far worse than most people realize because it is hidden under the surface. It's hard to get good photos of all that is missing from the sea. Most experts estimate that 90% of all large ocean life has been decimated in the past 100 years. Red Lobster All-You-Can-Eat night, anyone?

And judging by some emails I've gotten recently, there are a number of readers who think I hate fat people and think they are fair game for ridicule. My point is not that fat people are "funny" or "bad," but that human selfishness is ruining the planet, with Americans firmly in the lead. I know it is hard to resist food, I've battled it myself, we all have. And we're not the only species prone to this, we've all seen what happens to dogs when too much food is made available. For millions of years, humans couldn't be certain when their next meal would be, so our genes evolved to tell us to eat all that is available, especially the fatty stuff. It could mean the difference between making it through the winter and winding up as a frozen skeleton. But for most of us in developed nations, those days are gone.

Food has only been cheap and plentiful for our species for a relatively short time, so our bodies haven't had time to evolve messages that stop us from eating too much. My message isn't "let's all make fun of fat folks," my message is "wake up and smell the devastation to our bodies, our earth, and our fellow non-human inhabitants." I don't kid myself into thinking that this will ever change, but I feel compelled to comment on it.

On a lighter note, here's a silly cartoon about a clown.

Total Pigs

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by the Total Car.

A few years before I adopted a vegan diet, I stopped eating pigs because I read about how intelligent they are and how badly they suffer on factory farms, not to mention slaughterhouses. I later came to understand how all those critters I was eating were intelligent in their way and suffering at the whims of my taste buds, so I became vegan.

It's funny to me now that I used "intelligence" as a guide to whether or not a being deserved to be tortured and murdered. If that were true across the board, I can think of any number of people I've known who could be caged and butchered and sold for 99¢ a handful. "I'll have a Ricky sandwich and an order of Debbie nuggets, please."

Most people don't think that way of other species, I know. I didn't until I did, so I'm not judgmental about those who eat meat. I feel strongly about it, but I don't think that people who eat animal products are "bad" per se.

Pigs are really cool animals. I've gotten to know a bunch of them at Woodstock Farm Animal Sanctuary and they're really fascinating. They're smarter than dogs, big, ugly, affectionate and full of personality. You do have to be careful to follow a few simple rules when you're visiting them, however. I saw one frantically rooting and snorting at a woman's butt one time, almost knocking her down, and sending her screaming from the pig yard. Turns out she had an apple core in her back pocket. No one got hurt, but she almost lost the seat of her pants.

Bunny Blues

Bizarro is brought to you today by Rodents To Be Pitied.

When I was young, I never bought the idea that people in animal costumes were actually the character they were pretending to be. I sensed they were regular people in giant costumes and was appropriately frightened of them. My mother would take us to get our picture taken with the Easter Bunny and I'd cry.

This cartoon isn't about the Easter Bunny, but it goes to a pretty strange place with no apparent explanation. I like this kind of humor, that which portrays an extraordinary moment in time not easily explained. Fans of this sort of thing don't need an explanation, it's just funny that this poor sap is in a bunny costume and talking about his hard luck and country western songs. Others with more literal minds, may think the drunken bum is imagining it. That's fine, too.

The real answer is that the upside-down bird under the bench is the world's foremost avifaunal performance artist and he has orchestrated the scene for the benefit of passers by.

Home is Where the Heart Is

Bizarro is brought to you today by The Secret To Life.

It was 1981 and I had just called the bass player in our band to find out where he lived. I needed to deliver something to him like a piece of electronics, or a packet of illegal substance, or a book I'd borrowed, or a blimp mooring tower, I can't remember now. He lived in a huge old house that had been turned into a multi-family dwelling. He told me the address, and said to go up to the porch, through the second door from the right, up the stairs, and to knock on the second door on the left.

Being a bass player, he lived in a fairly rough neighborhood and though I was a little on guard, I did not want to show any apprehension. So following his instructions carefully I found the house, walked up to the porch with confidence, burst through the second door from the right and walked in briskly expecting to find stairs up which I would clamor.

What I found instead was a large Mexican family of around a dozen people, watching television in their living room. I froze in my tracks, they snapped their heads toward me and froze, and we all looked at each other with equal surprise for several seconds, searing an image in my brain that has not faded a single pixel even to this day. Portrait of the Ortega Family at Home, 1981, oil on canvas, 40'x60'.

Lurching back to consciousness, I backed out, mumbling something like "sorry, wrong door, sorry, sorry," and scrambled back off the porch.

Looking back at the house, I was a bit afraid to choose another door, there were four along the length of the porch. Who knows what might be behind door number two – a tiger? an illegal dogfighting ring? Richard Simmons slapping a bellhop around?

I crept back up to the house, knocked on another door and listened, heard nothing and gingerly tried the knob. It opened, and there was a stairway inside. I found my friend's apartment and told him what had happened with the family downstairs. He smirked and said, "you're lucky they didn't kill you. I think they're drug dealers."

Thus ended my exceptionally brief career as an unwitting DEA agent. I'm glad I wasn't killed in the line of a duty I had no idea I was performing. I don't think you get a pension for that.

Courage Under Fire

Bizarro is brought to you today by the Second Amendment.

This gag was written by my friend and colleague, Wayno, a fine cartoonist in his own right. He enjoys seeing his ideas in Bizarro from time to time and I enjoy drawing them up. For more of Wayno's work, visit this here place.

Or go to Facebook and look for Wayno Illustration.

Speaking of Facebook, to any of you who have sent me something through that site, I apologize for how long it takes me to respond. I only check the site about once a month and click through requests and stuff as quickly as possible. I often don't have time to answer the comments and notes and things, I hope you will forgive me. Here at Bizarro International Headquarters there is too much for one person to do in a day and I can't afford an assistant. Thanks for understanding, you're a peach.

Exciting Update!

This post is brought to you by Sheer Ego.

Yes, I am aware it is crass to brag. But when things like this happen, I get all giggly and have to share my elation. Check out Merl Reagle's Crossword puzzle from a few days ago. Now check out the yellow highlighted parts. (Click the puzzle to make it larger)

WHAT?!?!?!

How did a lowly cartoonist without a single magazine cover to his name or even an official fan club make his way into a crossword puzzle? I don't know either, but however he did it, he is thrilled.

You see, cartoonists labor in obscurity for the most part. I've never been (and likely never will be) as famous as Gary Larson, or Garry Trudeau, or Jim Davis, or Charles Schulz. I do what I do and I make a living and I'm happy with that, but every now and then a little rainbow from the pantheon like this crossword puzzle drops into my lap and it's a real kick. It doesn't mean I have "arrived," but it does mean that at least Merl Reagle thinks my name is well known enough to warrant making his readers call up Wikipedia on their computers.

A couple of years ago I was a question on Jeopardy! and it was the highlight of my life. Some people strive for Pulitzers, Oscars, or Nobel Prizes. All I want is to be a puzzle clue every couple of years. That's not so much, is it?

NOTE: Thanks to all the readers who emailed me about this and to Dimension Skipper, who added a link to the above image to his/her comment on this blog. As you can see in his comment (on the previous cartoon) his verification word for posting his comment was "fredness." My dad's name is Fred, which means that I, myself, am the result of an act of fredness.

Hypnolarious

Bizarro has been brought to you today by When Your Phone Rings You Will Think You A Chicken.

This cartoon is not about hypnotism per se, but I'd like to say a few words about the subject.

I've been to various therapists from time to time over the years – not constantly but on an as-needed basis – but I've never had one that wanted to hypnotize me. And I've been to one of those hypnotism nightclub acts before, but have never been onstage. So speaking as a person who has no experience with hypnotism whatsoever and hasn't even read anything about it, let me expound on its applications and limitations.

I think hypnotism is probably useful in a CSI:Miami situation, like when the person who witnesses a crime without realizing it and is trying desperately to remember the license number of the car that drove away with the ambassador's kidnapped granddaughter in the trunk. And it's probably also useful for quitting smoking and overcoming anxiety, stuff like that, and for tricking someone into becoming your crime zombie and robbing banks for you then forgetting they ever did it.

But I strongly suspect that the humorous nightclub routines are all about people who want to perform but need an excuse for being a ham. I don't believe for a minute that the insurance salesman's wife really thinks she's at the beach on a hot day when she peels off her dress and parades around in her bra and undies. I'd say it's a lot more likely that she's bored out of her mind raising those three brats of his and doing his laundry and regrets not having become and exotic dancer at a truck stop honkytonk.

Fairy Tales

(Engorge this cartoon with 60% more biggerness by clicking the prince.)

Today's episode of Bizarro is brought to you by What Is This?

When I was a teenager, I liked me some M.C.Escher, as most kids my age did. I still appreciate his work, but for teens he's like the rockstar of graphic artists. The words "Dude, he must have been trippin'," have been uttered myriad times in reference to his images.

I can tell you from an artist's perspective that he almost certainly was not "trippin" or he would not have been able to achieve the level of detail, realism, and accuracy that he is famous for. He was, however, probably socially retarded. Most people who achieve such precision do so by locking themselves in their room for decades and obsessing over their work. This often leads to unease in situations in which one would be required to interact with humans.

If you were to transport yourself back in time to Escher's studio while he was working on one of his famous future blacklight posters, and you were to express your admiration and ask him a deep question about his concepts and philosphy, he would likely say something like, "I enjoy crackers."

Or maybe I'm totally wrong and he'd say, "Dude, wanna get dosed?"

Butt Darling...

Berzarro is branged to you terday by Rusponsble Dranking.

Not only can I not believe those aren't buttocks, I can't believe that not a single editor from any of my client papers objected to this cartoon or asked for a replacement. That I know of.

It does my heart good to see that editors are loosening their Victorian standards for the funny pages, giving us all a little more room to be "funny." (Not that it helps most of the time.)

I know that the female caboose has always been a source of fascination for men – it's biology 101 – but it is interesting that in recent years the MONDO BOOTY has come into style so much in popular culture. When I was in my teens and twenties, in the late 1900s, women were concerned with keeping their buttocks shapely, but smallish. Nowadays, with the popularity of women like Kim Kardashian and J-Lo, the epitome of ass fashion seems to be expanding. It's all in the eye of the beholder.

Body styles go in and out of fashion like anything else. I hope mine comes into style before I'm too old to use it.

Darkness and Despair

Bizarro is brought to you today by Crappy Internet.

I've been without Internet and Cable TV for two days, living in the dark ages like Attila the Hun. I sat in damp darkness eating bugs, totally out of touch with the world, no way to find out what's going on, no way to find out what "Weeds'" Nancy Botwin's latest kerfuffle was, and worst of all, kept away from YOU, by beloved blog friends.

I'm back now and can't believe all I've missed. Republicans have aired a TV commercial linking Sotomayor with Puerto Rican terrorists and infamous unrepentant domestic terrorist, William Ayers. WHAT?!!

Okay, that was about all I missed, I think. I'm back now, until the tiny plastic box bulging with wires and rubber bands and globs of hot glue that services my entire neighborhood in Brooklyn with cable and Internet is bumped by a squirrel again. Keep your cyber-fingers crossed.