CONTEST TOMORROW, Parrot Today

Bizarro is brought to you today by Great Band Names.

If I was a shape-shifter, like "Sam" on HBO's Trueblood, I would choose to be a bird every time. Imagine being able to fly under your own power. Holy cow(bird). Of course, I'd want to be a bird with my mind, not a bird's mind. Not because birds don't have good minds (they have perfect minds for life as a bird) but I would want to protect myself from cats, hunters, traffic, the pet trade, all the sort of things birds fall prey to.

But shape-shifters have that ability, at least on Trueblood. They maintain their own consciousness, but take on the shape of a different animal for however long they want, then switch back. So cool.

The only downside to shape-shifting is the nudity. You lose your clothes when you change into another species – you could hardly imagine a pigeon flying around New York City wearing jeans and a hoodie – so when you change back, you're still naked. And you have to be careful where you leave your stuff when you first "shift" because your wallet will still be in your pants or whatever. It would be a drag to come back from your flight to find all of your stuff missing. How do you get back into your house without your keys? Naked people trying to jimmy windows are often frowned upon by neighbors.

Back to the things birds fall prey to, few things break my heart the way the sight of a bird in a cage does. I admire people who rescue parrots from "pet owners" and try to give them the best life possible given that their natural life has been ruined by captivity already, but I am dead set against people who buy birds to keep as pets. If I were a bird, I'd rather be set free than live the rest of my life in someone's kitchen window, regardless of how long I could survive in that environment. I'm always tempted to release birds I see in hotel lobbies and pet stores. Big parrots wouldn't have much of a chance, their wings are typically clipped anyway, but little finches and songbirds would probably be fine just flitting around the city eating what they can. When winter comes, they might not make it, but I can't help but believe that's a better life than prison. Some cities do, in fact, have large populations of escaped birds. Good for them.

Before my animal rights friends come down on me for encouraging behavior that might endanger innocent birds, let me say I'm just thinking out loud. I don't really know what is best for a given species in a given climate. I just know what I'd want. I'd be the Patrick Henry of birds: Give me liberty or give me death. But not in a creepy, backwoods middle America way with stockpiles of guns and a fear of socialized medicine.









I'll post a cartoon contest tomorrow at 6pm NYC time. Watch for it, play it, enjoy it. First person to post the correct answers in the comment section wins!

Zombie Minimum Daily Dietary Requirements

Bizarro is brought to you today by King of the Brain-Eating Zombies.

Followers of this blog may know that I have had a relationship with a teenage boy for a few years now. But before you go "tweeting" that, let me say that this relationship is not illicit, illegal or inappropriate in any way. He's just a funny kid who sends me cartoon ideas from time to time. His name is Victor or Vance or something, I can never remember, and he just started college somewhere on the East Coast. Or maybe Canada.

I've posted about him before and even included some pics of him and his family visiting Bizarro International Headquarters in Brooklyn earlier this year.

That's a long-winded introduction to my next point, which is that Victor suggested to me the idea of a zombie who craved bran instead of brains and I made this cartoon out of it. Thanks, Victor (Vernon?), good luck in school. (Or was it jail?)

In other news, a reader of Bizarro saw this cartoon in the newspaper (an outdated mode of communication from the 1900s which facilitates the dissemination of facts to the public) and sent me the following haiku:

The vegan zombie
Cares not for sweet grey matter
They cry out for "grains"

It's funny because it's true. Or at least I assume it is true. I'm a vegan but not a zombie, so I can only be half sure.

Until tomorrow...live each day as though it is your last (but you don't know it is your last, otherwise you might spend all your money, punch your boss in the neck, and admit to your wife that you banged her sister in the pool house at that party that one time.)

Fashion Police Report

Bizarro is brought to you today by Martian smile.

You can tell a lot about a person by the message on their shirt. And that's the point, of course. I don't often wear shirts with pictures or words on them, but I have one that I like that has a cool cartoon image of a robot. It tells people I like cartoon robots.

Other types of shirts say even more about the wearer, however. When you see a guy with a shirt that says "Free Breast Exams," you know he's a virgin and will likely stay that way. For some, of course, a T-shirt just isn't enough to get the point across. On the other hand, a woman wearing a shirt that says, "My Eyes Are Up Here," tells you that she wants to draw attention to her breasts. This sort of shirt is frequently worn by someone who cannot even remember what virgin means.

I have a good friend in NYC who has cerebral palsy and wears a T-shirt with the handicap symbol on it along with the words, "I'm in it for the parking." As you might expect, he has a great sense of humor about his condition.

I love spotting the totally out-of-place shirts. I saw an old black guy in my neighborhood in Brooklyn wearing ratty trousers, beaten up sneakers, a dirty Oakland Raiders windbreaker and a T-shirt that said, "White Goddess." T-shirts are so easy to come by that I have to believe it wasn't the only one he could find.

Some popular shirts have gone through several stages. The "I'm With Stupid" shirt, with an arrow pointing to the person next to you was a huge hit, then shirt printers started moving the arrow. The first sequel I saw had an arrow that pointed up toward the wearer's head, which was quickly trumped by this one. They may have run out of places to point the arrow, but who can say?

There are thousands of T-shirts about being drunk, which I have always found sad somehow. I like to drink, but it isn't a political cause or a religion with me. "I'm not as think as you drunk I am" is still a big seller. As unfortunate at drinking shirts are, they do perform a valuable public service, telling the rest of us to stay away from the wearer unless you're looking for a person with a poor sense of humor and a substance problem.

There are many web pages dedicated to the importance of wearing just the right shirt when you're planning to be arrested. Here are some good examples.

If you are planning to spend some time in a holding cell, this may be a shirt you'll want to avoid.

NOTE: You may notice the dapper gentleman in the background of this cartoon wearing a fashionable Bizarro Alien shirt. Get one here!

Italian Spiderman

This is still one of my favorite film trailers of all time. Italian Spiderman, my hero.

I Be Dazzled










(Want to make something bigger of this drawing, just click it)

Bizarro is brought to you today by the BeDaZzLeR!

As I was sitting in the penthouse suite of Bizarro International Headquarters writing cartoons one day (or, more accurately, trying to come up with a single f-ing idea) I was musing over the classic stranded-on-a-desert-island motif and wondering what would be the absolutely most useless thing that could wash up on such a beach. I hadn't thought of the BDzer in decades, didn't know if they even still made them, but I instantly loved the idea of covering the island with plastic jewels. Voila, a cartoon is born.

So that's the answer to the question that we cartoonists get fairly constantly, "where do you get your ideas?" The answer is "The BeDazzler."

Now that I've divulged the secret, everyone will be doing it.

Old School Thigh Master


Bizarro is brought to you today by Saw VIII: Bleeding From The Ears.

I have to admit I'm really pleased with this joke. It's a simple idea based on an iconic game of childhood innocence and curiosity, but with the addition of a single word becomes dark and disturbing. What more can one ask of a cartoon?

Speaking of dark and disturbing, I turned on TV last night to watch Hardball and Countdown and it happened to be tuned to some show called "Extra" on NBC. Within seconds I could see that it was a faux news show about celebrities, that generation of mutant journalism that I think "Entertainment Tonight" started.

The three, beautiful, twenty-something meat puppets hosting "Extra" were in the middle of a stiffly scripted "disagreement" over something Suzanne Somers uttered about Patrick Swayze's cancer treatment. One marionette thought Suzanne had a right to speak her mind, another thought it was too soon and she should have known better, the third thought she was wrong for saying anything but did the right thing by apologizing. Fascinating.

I know a lot of people watch these shows, you may be among them, and I do not wish to offend anyone kind enough to read this blog. But I can't stand them. I guess my revulsion begins in the premise that a celebrity's routines activities are elevated to the status of "news," and moves on through the mannequin performance of the cue-card-reading models who, by telling you about celebrities, become celebrities themselves. This concept is akin to a librarian becoming as famous as the authors of the books in her care.

Human fascination with celebrity is an interesting subject, the roots of which are deep within our evolution. Chimps have the same impulse within their own groups. In one behavioral study I read about, when given a choice between looking at a picture of a troupe leader or a food reward, they often chose the celebrity photo. How many American's would rather watch "Extra" or "ET" than eat a plate of nachos? Fortunately, as God's anointed species, we are not forced to choose and can simultaneously stuff our faces with Monterey Jack and Jacko. Still, I'd like to put some people in a cage and test this theory.

I'm not completely immune to the charm of celebrities myself, it is programmed into our DNA to a point, but I'm not interested in them enough to read magazines devoted to them or watch news shows about their hourly goings on.

And, for the record, I think Suzanne Somers should have said MORE about Patrick Swayze's treatment! Whatever the hell that means.

Until tomorrow...become a master of your own thighs.

Contest #5 WINNER!!!!
















Sorry for the one hour delay in posting the contest, ladies, gentlemen and undecided. As promised, the seventh person to post the correct answers won, and that person comments under the name PEEFY!

This must have been a more difficult puzzle than the last four because it actually took 10 answers to come up with seven correct ones.

Here's the correct list, for those of you keeping score at home:
1. dynamite is colored
2. pocketbook becomes pear
3. cat on pamphlet becomes dog
4. goatee is missing
5. poster cat's eye has moved
6. pencil cup changes from eyeball to square thing
7. pencil becomes carrot
8. tape dispenser has eyeball
9. minute is misspelled
10. dog's arms are missing
11. animal hospital written on door
12. man at window has glasses
13. purse strap is missing
14. arm sticking out of mouth
15. husband becomes hasbeen

A few of my favorite incorrect answers:
Kangaroo's tie is missing
Glenn Beck has lost all sense of reality
Woman's cholesterol is lower

Hope you had fun. 5 packs of Bizarro Trading Cards will be loaded onto the Pony Express for PEEFY tomorrow!

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