Bizasso

Quick clarification: In the title panel for this past Sunday's cartoon, I made a stupid mistake, which is doubly bad because I made it once before. When I created this panel, I looked up the sign language alphabet to spell out "Bizarro." Evidently, I looked at the wrong sign for "R" and used the one for "S" instead, so my original title panel spelled out "Bizasso," a mistake brought to my attention by several readers back in March when I first used it. I corrected the drawing later and placed the revised version in my files for future use. But like a doofus, I forgot to remove the incorrect version.

Yesterday, I used the incorrect one again, and again it was pointed out to me by readers. Some people never learn.

Strange Week

Bizarro is brought to you today by Summer Weather.

I've been getting a lot of emails and blog comments in the last couple of days about the cartoons of July 10 and 11. I drew these five or six weeks ago and I suppose I was having an ambiguous week. Sometimes I get experimental in subject matter, or humor, or color scheme, and even if it doesn't work for everyone, I think it keeps the feature fresh. For me, at least, which I think is important. If I get bored, it will show.

This cartoon about the happy family means nothing more than what it looks like. It's just funny to me. "Let's get started!" doing what? I don't know. What do happy, perfect families do at home at night? I don't know anyone who had one, so I've no experience to draw from.

When I was a child, my own family looked very normal from the outside, the quintessential Ozzy-and-Harriet dreamworld. And even though we ate dinner together every night, then settled in to watch TV, it was not the utopia pictured above.

Night after night, we were forced to watch industrial training films from the linoleum industry over and over again. To make certain we were paying attention, my mother shot live rounds over our heads. Dad watched from a dog cage under the dining room table, barking and panting like a Golden Retriever. One of my sisters was born with gills and lived in an oil drum full of water. Her splashing would spot the TV screen with rainbow dots of magnifying liquid.

Maybe this cartoon was just therapy for me.

REGARDING YESTERDAY'S CARTOON: A few people have complained that suicide isn't funny. I agree, I lost a good friend to suicide. But humor of this kind is a uniquely human practice and serves a valuable purpose for us. To find humor in what scares or horrifies us gives us a psychological edge over the tragedy. This kind of humor has existed in human cultures for as long as we've been writing things down.

Some time ago, I promised a reader I would not picture suicide in my cartoons for the very reason that some of you were offended, and I've kept to that. But I think a cartoon such as this one is so far fetched and the reader is left to wonder/assume what has happened to the woman, that it does not strike the same chord. To me, anyway. One person accused me of being sexist because the cartoon insinuates that all men want when they come home from work is sex from their woman. This cartoon is not about what men want when they come home from work, but that if a man comes home from work and sees his partner's clothing spread seductively in a trail across the floor, 99% of them are going to think of sex. Either she is seducing him, or she has already seduced someone else. It's not insulting, its human nature.

Nude Diving

Bizarro is brought to you today by Moth Lingerie.

I normally blog about my cartoons a week after they have run in the paper, but I've decided to bump this one up in the queue because I've gotten a lot email about it.

The cartoon is meant to be a guy coming home from work and, seeing the trail of clothing, assumes his wife wants to have sex. Instead, she has jumped out the window, presumably to her death.

I didn't realize there would be so many ways to interpret this, but I've heard plenty. Some excerpts:

"Are they his clothes and he can't wait to put them on and then sneak out the window?"

"Is his wife some kind of naked Superwoman?"

"Is his naked wife trying to lure him to the fire escape so he'll be blown up by the TNT on the sofa?"

"There seems to be a syringe on the sofa pillow. Did his wife get high and then jump out the window naked, thinking she could fly?"

More than a few people asked about the firecracker on the sofa pillow wondering if it figured into the joke, a couple thought it was a syringe. If you are among those readers who have never noticed, I hide little symbols like that in virtually all my comics for no good reason. The current list is: Firecracker/dynamite, eyeball, pie, alien, bunny, K2, upside down bird, a man's loafer, a fish tail, a crown, and the exceedingly rare arrow in the back. The number above the signature tells you how many symbols to look for, a la Al Hirschfeld.

That should clear up the mystery. I now return you to a nation mourning the death of Michael Jackson.

Lip Brush With Fame

On occasion I get mistaken for Elvis Costello by people who don't really know what Elvis Costello looks like. They see glasses and a hat and figure I must be him. But now it will be an even more frequent nuisance, because Elvis is sporting a mustache. Damn that look-stealing limey. What next? A cigar?













He has even fashioned his hairline to look like mine, as evidenced in this photo of him doffing his hat at the end of Conan O'Brien's show last night.















For anyone interested in how to accurately tell the difference between myself and Costello in the wild, I offer this brief list of defining characteristics:

1. His hair is longer and wavy, mine is very short
2. The brims of his hats are larger than mine
3. His clothing is expensive, mine is mostly from resale shops and smells of cigars
4. He has Diana Krawl on his arm, I have CHNW (personally, I think I come out ahead on this one)
5. I am the one occasionally mistaken for Elvis Costello, he is the one never mistaken for me.

CAPOOT COMEDY

Woe and behold, my comedy shows next week have been canceled. The producer behind it decided to kill the show, refund ticket sales, and take a loss.




















He's used to producing shows in LA and, not being familiar with the way things work in NY, was not able to get the press and advanced ticket sales as quickly as he had hoped for. Comedy shows in NYC pretty much dry up all summer, as most New Yorkers leave the city: rich folks go to the Hamptons, the rest of us go upstate. Most of what is left is tourists, who have such a wide variety of Broadway shows to go to, they tend not to patronize the offbeat stuff.

He still likes the concept of a comedy show of cartoonists, as do we who were in the show, so we are looking at possibly remounting it later in the year after Little Boy Blue has blown his horn and the sheep return from the meadows.

Just thought you'd like to know. Especially if you are somewhere in Nebraska right now, hitchhiking your way across the country from California, hoping to make it to the Tuesday opening.

Mything the Point

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Post-Closet Veggies.

Since I like to do cartoons based on Bible stories and other common Christian myths, I have been criticized on occasion by atheists who think I am using my cartoons to advance my religious views, and praised at times by Christians who think I am trying to advance theirs. It is hard to imagine a person who would be more likely to believe in a religion because he saw it in the funny papers, but I'm sure they are out there. In truth, I'm doing neither.

I no longer believe the Noah story, of course, but when I was a kid I was taught it was true. As hard as it is to believe, we all know that there are many 21st century adult Americans with high school and college diplomas who are still convinced. I was raised in the Bible Belt and have seen it first hand. (It is also worth noting that most Christians worldwide believe these stories are allegories and not historical accounts.)

Of those who believe the story of Noah's ark is factual, some don't think about it too hard, others perform amazing feats of mental gymnastics to find logical ways in which a person could fit a breeding pair of every single species on the earth onto one boat, along with enough food to keep them all fed for who-knows-how-many months. Others just fall back on the Santa Claus Defense. The Santa Claus Defense is what parents use when their kid asks a logical question like, "How can Santa fit enough toys for every kid in the whole world into one sleigh?" The answer is always, "He's magic." Noah was magic in this same way.

Among my friends in the animal rights movement, some who advocate veganism and believe in the rights of non-human animals, as I do, attempt to reach people who believe in the fundamental truth of Bible stories by finding ways in which the scriptures support the notion that man is "meant" to eat plants, not animals. If you are one of those who are motivated to try this I wish you well, but you can argue scripture with fundamentalists until you are blue in the face because in the end, you are arguing with someone who believes in magic. When that is your premise, you can make up the rules to suit your argument.

I use Bible themes in cartoons because they are well known stories and, since they were written to describe common human dilemmas and traits, are great fodder for cartoons. It is the same reason I use children's fairy tales, Greek myths or famous movie monsters. Most of the time, there is no more complex reason than that.

The Sound of One Hand Inking

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Singing Monks.

Okay, I admit I don't know anything about Zen Buddhism, but the whole "nothingness" thing is a common conception and cartoons are often built on these, whether correct or not.

Like the Moses cartoon from a couple of days ago; several readers left comments on the inaccuracies of my drawing – from the error of having the burning bush and the ten commandments in the same picture to the fact that Moses is wearing shoes on "hallowed ground." I also got a few emails of this sort.

Being neither a Zen Buddhist nor a believer in the historical accuracy of the Bible, I admit that I don't get very nitpicky about these things. I just draw the cartoon in a way that everyone can understand and move on to the next crushing deadline. I don't mind the corrections, by the way. I'm kind of a trivia buff anyway, so I always enjoy a few more tidbits of knowledge.

In spite of this flippant attitude toward history, I actually do try to be more accurate in my cartoons than do most cartoonists. I research historical costumes and such, to get things mostly right, and often look up what certain objects look like to add that extra bit of convincing detail, even though I'm perfectly capable of an approximation out of my own head. But if the accuracy conflicts with the joke, as it would have in the Moses cartoon, I toss it out and use the common misconception instead. Moses talking to a burning bush is immediately understood; Moses talking to a blinding beam of light would have been widely misconstrued to be a scene from Star Trek.

Of the handful of "Zen" cartoons I've done over the years, here is one of my favorites:

Owah Tizdat Toobee

You is bringed to day Bizarro by Satisfactory Discourse.

When I submitted this cartoon weeks ago, I knew it would cause some confusion. Since it appeared in papers a week ago, I've gotten dozens of emails from people who were mystified by it, which means there are many thousands more who were equally out to sea but didn't bother to write.

The cartoon refers to a game we used to play as children, one of those games that only works on someone who has never heard it before. You get them to say these three words – owah, tagu, siam – slowly, like a chant. Then you ask them to go faster, stringing the words together, until they are saying, "oh what a goose I am." Laughter ensues.

This kind of thing comes up from time to time, where I want to do a cartoon based on something I know or have heard or remember, but am not sure how common or widespread the knowledge is. I ask CHNW if she gets it and that's about all the research I do. She got this one and she was raised in Florida (I, in Oklahoma), so I figured I'd give it a try.

In addition to the emails from the dazed and confused, I got nearly as many from people who remembered the game from childhood but hadn't thought of it in years. And also one from a reader who had played a dirty version of the same thing where the end sentence makes reference to the speaker's biological habits.

That's the official report on the Great Basketball Cartoon Conundrum of 2009. Onward and upward.

God in Nature

This is a special posting about an unusual phenomenon called to my attention by a regular reader in Minnesota, whom I'll call "Charles."

It seems that on the day the cartoon below appeared in the paper, Charles saw the face of Jesus in it. He described this to me by email and asked if I'd done it intentionally. I politely told him no and that I couldn't figure out what he was talking about.

















He sent me this explanation but I still could not see it and was content to write him off as one of the legions of mentally unbalanced people who follow Bizarro.











Finally, just out of curiosity, I backed way off from the computer and took my glasses off. With the proper distance and blur it came into focus, so to speak.

Below is a version I've doctored with an orange outline which describes the shape I believe he saw. It's a fairly unconventional version of Jesus, but perhaps this is how our Minnesota friend sees him. Or, perhaps "He" just has a wacky side.




















Charles later told me that the morning he witnessed the divine vision he had a bad case of flu and was not wearing his glasses. I couldn't help but wonder how many times this has happened people reading Garfield or Apartment 3G.

Let this be a warning to us all about viewing the funny pages in poor health and without the proper optical aids.


For more images of the almighty, click on the words "God's wrath" in the previous post.
Many thanks to Chuck Strinz for bringing this to my attention. Check out his video production company, Back On The Mississippi and his current PBS project, Museums of Minnesota.

Non-Gay Rainbow Rankings

Bizarro is brought to you today by Hideous Monsters.

The most funnest part of this comic was the drawing. Even though drawings like this are tedious and time consuming, both to research and to draw, I always really enjoy the final product. (For you technique buffs, I should mention that the entire drawing is done with a small brush, even the lettering, and I use no straightedge of any kind.)

I like this gag and its soft parody of the stupendously transparent propaganda tool of the Bushies. As any scientist will tell you, a human's ability to reason is seriously compromised by fear. Ergo, if you keep the people frightened, it takes them longer to figure out you're screwing them. It's an age-old political trick but still works like a charm. Most recently, it worked on Americans for 8 years. Some are still trying it.

I've included the strip version of this one, too, since it required a lot of extra art and fenagling. My favorite part of the strip version is the anatomical heart on the sign in the back. What is that company selling? I have no idea what the Japanese type on all these signs says, I just borrowed stuff from signs I found on the Internets. For all I know, they could say (insert your own joke here.)
(As always, click the image to colossalize it.)

Finally, I got this email from a reader:

How dare you !?!?!

Rodan is easily a higher priority than Mothra. He's older ( released after Godzilla and before Mothra to terrorize us in our movie theaters ), leatherier and gnarleyier.

My sincere apologies to this or any other reader who was offended by my rankings. I was rating them by how often I'd heard their name. I hope that I have not offended Rodan or his followers.

DISCLAIMER: The writer of the above email was not serious, he was actually taking a self-deprecating jab at his own obsession with Japanese movie monsters. Taken out of context, though, it's much funnier. Saying the Security Alert System is a tool of propaganda does not mean I don't there is any danger of another terrorist attack, it is only to say that there isn't anything the average person or society can gain from this rainbow bogeyman thermometer. My apology to followers of Rodan was tongue-in-cheek, if you really were offended by this you need professional help, possibly medication, definitely a girlfriend.

Blind Justice is 20/20

Bizarro is brought to you today by Lassie Knows Dad is Hiding Something.

Lawyers like jokes about themselves. Almost any time I do a joke about lawyers, an attorney contacts me and wants to buy the original art. You might say that's because they frequently have expendable income, but the same thing is true of doctors and I don't hear from them when I do a doctor cartoon. There's just something about the sort of personality that becomes a lawyer that enjoys self-deprecating humor.

Granted, it would require a sense of humor to live with the fact that your chosen profession is among the highest paid and most hated in society, and that many times during your career you will be required to use all of your intellectual faculties to assure that a guilty party goes unpunished. It's a pretty weird job.

I have nothing against the sort of people who become lawyers, with some exceptions. I have several friends who are attorneys and find nothing fundamentally wrong with them. They just have a different perspective on the world than I do, as they tend to respect law above justice. I think the average person is the other way around.

I suspect most lawyers would agree that courts are about "law" and not particularly interested in "justice." There are a lot of high-minded reasons for this with which I agree, but I'm not cut out to serve that system on a daily basis. If I had been the judge overseeing the O.J. case for instance, when the jury announced their "not guilty" verdict, I would have sentenced him to life in prison anyway. And that's only because I don't believe in the death penalty.


SPECIAL COMMENT NOT RELATED TO LAW OR THE ABOVE CARTOON:
Thank no one (atheist) I came out with this idea before this cartoon appeared in The New Yorker. Different cartoonists coming across the same idea independently is very common, it's just way better to be in the first position rather than the second. I'm guessing this idea has been touched upon by other cartoonists in the past, too, so I can't get too cocky. Mick Stevens is one of my favorites from New Yorker, so I'm honored to be in good company.

Pied Piper, Paid Paper

Bizarro is brought to you today by Bizarro Tributes From Around the World.

The cartoon at left is what I originally wrote and wish I had published. But when I sat down to ink the idea, I decided for some lame reason that it would be better to have both the therapist and the patient sobbing because we're all up this creek without a paddle together (Paddles stolen by W, boat built by Haliburton, leaking profusely), so I drew and published the version below.

As soon as I saw it in print, however, I wished I had gone with my original instinct, which is a quieter, drier joke. Bummer.

As for the idea itself, I am a great admirer of BaRockStar Obama and think he is exactly the right person at the right time. (Although 8 years ago would have been an even better time.) One of the things I admire most about him is his courage under fire. The guy stays cool against unimaginable odds, when everyone else around him is pointing fingers and screaming like children. No matter how much petty political nonsense his opponents throw at him, he takes the high road and sticks to the issues. In the long run, I hope that the juvenile culture of Washington politics will grow up a bit and take a couple of steps toward his end of the spectrum. I don't expect it, I just hope.

Meanwhile, I thought it might be funny to depict him breaking down and sobbing under a couch in the privacy of a therapy session. I know I would.

Impaired Humor

(You can click the picture and it will become un-small.)

Bizarro is brought to you today by Shark Week.

From where I sit inside my own head, there is almost no article of clothing more unappealing than the track suit. What is even stranger than the thought of someone thinking they looked good in this kind of color-coordinated baggywear, is the connection, or lack thereof, of the primary groups who wear them.

The fashion track suit is mostly the domain of three distinct groups: the tacky suburban house frau, goombas like "Paulie" from The Sopranos, and hip-hop-happy urban blacks. How did these three groups become members of the same fashion trend?

I don't know when urban blacks began wearing these eyesores en masse, but my guess is that some iconic fadster like Sean "P. Duddy" Combs (Piff Daddy? Pap Doodly? P. Poopy?) decided he could manufacture a lot of them very cheaply in Asia, slapped his name on it, then wore one in public. Once the hoards saw him in one, they had to have one, too. A simple sheep/shepherd equation. Pup Dabby gets rich(er); millions look like walking laundry bags.

The habit among suburban soccer moms grew from a more utilitarian seed, I suspect . They're chasing their crotch fruit around 24/7 and have given up caring about the way they look. Their bodies aren't what they once were and these baggy rainbow parachutes hide that (sort of.) They need something that won't wrinkle when they pass out on the couch from gin and pain pills at the end of the day. It also doesn't hurt that these velour body bags have a built-in contraceptive effect–their husband has to be in a very bad way before he'll come on to woman dressed like Puff Dippy.

Jersey gangster types are perhaps the most puzzling. These are middle-aged, white, often Italian men who are not slaves to hip hop fashion by any means, and not worried about contraception or the shape of their bodies. They are, however, overweight and lacking even a shred of aesthetic aptitude. Perhaps that is where the secret lies. A man in this position is looking for clothing that will both adjust to his constantly morphing waistline and give him plenty of freedom of movement in his daily activities: threatening, extorting, wacking, eating sausage.

Regardless of the reasons, it is odd that one could accurately structure a Jeopardy! question thusly:
"Soccer moms, gangstas, and hit men."
"What are three groups that dress alike?"

In other news, I made another mistake that I would like to share with you. In the title panel for this cartoon, I looked up the sign language alphabet to spell out "Bizarro." Evidently, I looked at the wrong sign for "R" and used the one for "S" instead, a mistake brought to my attention by several readers, so my original title panel spelled out "Bizasso". The original and the corrected version (for future use) are below.

Confusing Rainbow of Mystery

Bizarro is brought to you today by Presidential Dishtowels.

CHNW and I became friends with a transgender person in Hawaii recently, which later gave rise to this cartoon. Our new friend informed me of the difference between "transgender" and "transsexual" and although her definitions were a bit fuzzy, as I understand it, the gist is that transgenders psychologically relate to both sexes, crossing or erasing traditional sexual assignments, while transsexuals wish to be the opposite sex from which they were born.

Our friend in Hawaii is male by birth, but his personality, mode of dress, and demeanor are entirely female. He has changed his name to a woman's and comports himself as a woman, yet he is sexually attracted to women, always has been, is not gay or even bisexual, and hopes to find a wife. You are right, that might be a difficult task.

You might say he's a lesbian with the wrong plumbing. But he likes his plumbing and has no desire to change it. He's a lesbian with a strap-on without a strap.

How this differs from transvestism is subtle, and not something I pretend to understand fully. Apparently the term transvestite has undergone many changes through history and currently floats somewhere between transgender (described above) and cross-dresser (who wears clothing of the opposite sex but does not go as far as psychological identity.) (I think.)

Confused? That is appropriate, because sexual identity and preference is not a black and white issue, as was taught by our forefathers and mothers. (Is there a name for someone with four fathers?) It is an immense, sweaty, throbbing, sliding scale of tendencies, preferences, fetishes and nuance.

Just one more way in which the human ape is hopelessly complex, but such is our fate as mutant primates.

So for those who feel the urge to criticize, clobber, or deny legal rights to someone whose sexual orientation and/or display offends them, I ask that they remember that other people have no more control over their desire to dress like Elvis and hit on lumberjacks than you do over your attraction to drunken coeds with big boobies. Time to grow up and accept that the world doesn't always conform to our fairy tales.

SPECIAL THANKS to all you who posted an alternate caption to the Grim Reaper cartoon from yesterday's post. Most of them were great, several were WAY better than mine. I should ask you guys ahead of time on every gag. (he said, inviting the snarky remarks of various curmudgeonly commentators.)

Impossible World

Bizarro is brought to you today by Eat My Friends!

Here's a simple visual gag that has no deeper meaning and nothing to do with anything. Sometimes a bit of simple surrealism is good for you. It's not brilliant, but it's a smile.

What's fun about cartoons like this is that as often as not, someone will write to me in all seriousness and say something like, "I love Bizarro but I don't get today's cartoon. Is there something I'm missing? How could the prisoners dig their way to another planet?"

I never mind people asking for clarification on a cartoon and their confusion is often warranted because my cartoon was nebulous. So I'm nice to anyone who writes (unless they are being an a**hole). When someone asks a question like my hypothetical one above, I still respond politely but I admit that I laugh before I type.
And sometimes I call CHNW in from the other room to laugh with me.
And sometimes a few friends from the neighborhood.
Only on rare occasions have I posted the letter on YouTube in a video in which I appear with phony buck teeth and a fright wig, pretending to be the person who wrote the letter.

Usually I just politely explain that it's supposed to be impossible, and therein lies the humor. Or what I mistook for humor when I wrote it.

Other sorts of letters I sometimes get will be from somebody like a meteorologist who feels it his duty to point out that the earth I have drawn in the background has no clouds on the entire hemisphere shown, which is statistically impossible. For readers like this, I send my special Bizarro Anthrax Gift Basket.

Last Words

Today's Bizarro is brought to you by Two Too Hairy.

I've seen a lot of self-referential cartoons over the years with various gimmicks that use cartoon balloons as props within the scene or characters that make reference to the borders, etc., and I've done a handful myself. In general, cartoons like that can be too "easy," so I only do them when I think I have a concept that is interesting enough to make it worthwhile. I think this one passes that test; some will disagree with me, of course. (See comments section under "Anonymous.")

I like the fact that this has multiple layers: the victim's last words, the caption balloon stabbed into his back, the reference to the 911 call which would have been the same as the victim's last words. For super-genius readers, like those who frequent this blog, the whole thing falls into place instantly, you smile and snort, count the secret symbols and move on to "Cathy." But for some readers, this cartoon was confusing enough to write to me and ask what it meant. Here is an excerpt from one such email:

"Huh?"

So here is the full explanation of this cartoon:
A guy in a cartoon calls 911 and says, "Help! Someone is using my own words against me!" Because he is in a cartoon, his words appear in a balloon above him with a pointer that designates the speaker of the words contained within. Apparently, as guy #1 utters these words, guy #2 (not pictured) is, in fact, grabbing that same caption balloon and stabbing the caller with the point of it, thus using his own words against him. All of this happens before the scene pictured. As we join the unfortunate cartoon character, now presumably dead, the police cartoon characters have already arrived, one of whom exclaims with his own cartoon balloon that he now understands the peculiar 911 call, "Help! Someone is using my own words against me!"*

Simple.

*This cartoon is fictional and is not meant to represent any actual events or persons. No actual characters were harmed in the making of this cartoon. All characters, both explicit and insinuated, are entirely constructed of lines and color and do not exist in biological form. Your computer screen is an electronic device for personal use and is not a window into another world or alternate reality.

Sofa Self-Censure

Bizarro is brought to you today by Godzilla Goes Swimming.

Here we have a simple turn of a phrase, the sort I've always found fun. To me, any sofa long enough to accommodate me is a sofa bed. In fact, I'd much rather sleep on a sofa than a fold-out bed inside a sofa. The sofa cushion is invariably more comfortable than the thin mattress covering the wirey armature of the bed.

I know there are exceptions to this. Like futon sofa/beds, which are often more comfortable to sleep on as a futon opened up on the floor than they are as a thing to sit on, and modern sofas with platforms and big cushions or something. There are probably more wacky sofa bed inventions but I'm bored even thinking about it and I'm guessing you're nodding off reading about it, so let's move on to the next subject. It's just as boring, but at least it is a change of pace.

When I sent this cartoon in, it had a grievous typo. The woman was saying "Does is fold out?" Me editor caught it, corrected it on the black and white version, sent me an email reminding me to correct it on my version before I colored it, and sent it out to papers. That's our routine.

A handful of papers and all websites run Bizarro in color every day. The color files are sent electronically (as opposed to the b/w cartoons being mailed in hard copy, the old-fashioned way) so I have a little more time to finish them. I color the cartoons the week after they have been sent in and edited for b/w clients and that's when I usually correct mistakes or typos that my editor has found.

In this case, I was out of town when I got the email and forgot to refer to it when I got back and colored the cartoons. So the moronic version ran in papers and web sites all over America, making me look foolish. I hate it when that happens.

In a cartoon later that same week, a word was changed because of previous problems with it but again, I forgot to change it on the color version. That mistake could have gotten me into trouble with client editors all over North America. Everybody loves a cliffhanger so I'll post that cartoon later this week and 'splain.

Revised Evil

In the previous post, I recounted some of my adventures in Indianapolis this week, including a trip to a school. I included a picture of myself with the kids and claimed that nobody noticed I was "roaring drunk." This earned me a trip to the principal's office.

Yesterday I received an email from a school official thanking me politely for coming to the school and telling me everyone enjoyed it, but asking if I would take the picture off the blog. Apparently, school officials and parents could come down hard on the school for allowing their kid's pics on the web, especially in association with a reference to drinking. Here is the revised photo, with the student's faces blurred like criminals, which I supplanted the old one with in the post below, along with a humorous legal disclaimer (in red).Perhaps there are good reasons to be worried about a thing like this, but for the life of me I can't think what they would be. I know pedophiles have met kids online, but that doesn't pertain to this. I know celebs protect the images of their children to make it more difficult for would-be kidnappers, but that's certainly not an issue here. People in witness protection don't want pics on the web identifying their location, I suppose one or more of these kids could be from a family like that.

Mostly, I think it's just goofy paranoia. Fear of the unknown. I've met people before who don't want a photo of them with me to appear on my blog and it always reminds me a bit of primitives being afraid to have their picture taken for fear they will lose their soul.

I do want to emphasize that the faculty at the school was great, very appreciative and cool, and that the person who wrote to me was not being unreasonable. That person is only trying to protect his/her school from a doody storm from less reasonable factions.

And now my own disclaimer: Maybe there is some perfectly logical, obvious reason for objecting to a picture like this on my blog and I'm just not seeing it. If so, I apologize for the sarcasm.

Travel Day!

I'm off to Indianapolis today! I'll blog again tomorrow from poolside!

Back, Sort Of

Sorry for the long delay, boys, girls, and both, but I'm back now and all is well. When I returned a couple of nights ago, my heat was off and the cable and Internet were out. What a thrill.

I managed to get the heat back on that night, but had to wait until this morning to get the cable and Internet back.

I've got some big deadlines to catch up on in the next hour or two, then I will post a full-size, extensive blog for anyone who might still be reading. Until then, I remain your humble servant.