It was a week of natural and unnatural disasters: the giant metaphor that hit Russia, the latest Nike endorsement deal shot to hell, and President Obama's golf swing. First off...
--Let's Look at the Weekend Forecast in NewsCenter Armageddon. I don't know about you, but a catastrophic meteor impact wasn't part of my long-term investment strategy; I've got enough to worry about with the Potential Central Valley Megaflood. Cartoonists all over the country were handed a metameteorphor 55 feet across; in fact, in cartooning circles, when the meteor came in, other fellow artists were waving each other off on doing it at all. Fearful of cartooning social approbation, I avoided using it. Of course, I badly wanted to. I'm weak and cartoonists like drawing flaming chunks of anything. I promise that I will do a cartoon the next time we have a 100-year meteor event. And speaking of shooting stars...
Mix it up with The Bee's editorial board.
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February 19, 2013
February 9, 2013
--Mission Accomplished, Now Get Off Of My Cloud. The Bush family's personal email accounts have been hacked, according to the Secret Service, whose expertise does not extend to protecting their former presidents from invasion of privacy. I can assure you that if my e-mails were hacked, I would probably jump off a fiscal cliff or engage in ritual sequestration, but the Bushes seemed to handle it with equanimity. After all, who knew that President 43 was a sensitive painter of dogs and landscapes? That 411 probably doesn't hurt him at all with the Socialist Humanist Liberal Media, whose main job it is to make sure W. remains the 22nd letter of the alphabet and not a Greatest President Who Was So Very Misjudged by History. Now that I know that W. knows how to do the Google AND paint, I feel a lot better about him already, since I now know he's a fellow artist. I doubt Cheney helps him paint, either.
February 5, 2013
Compared to ObamaFest 2: The Score Settling Begins the week before, it was a quiet week in Lake Washingone, with lots of mean-spirited backbiting and angry, senseless recriminations. In other words, absolutely normal. Oh, and in Our NorCal World, the Sixpeat Niners Team O' Destiny lost power in the stadium, too. So let's get right to it...
--The Hagel-McCain Feud. Off his meds again, Sen. John McCain decided he'd had enough of all the career success from someone other than John McCain, so he ripped former GOP Sen. Chuck Hagel a new one on national television. Demanding yes or no answers in a committee hearing is a time-honored get-me-ninety-seconds-of-network-face-time strategy for politicians, so McCain demanded to know whether Hagel thought he voted correctly on the Iraq surge. Since it is now fashionable to be for things before you were against them (The Sentence That Cost John Kerry The Presidency), one could have voted against the first Iraq War (It's About Oil), for the second Iraq War (WTFWMDWWJD?), and then made up for all your previous meanderings by supporting the surge. Other than the surge in McCain's blood pressure, what he's really angry about with Hagel is that he supported Obama in 2008, and that's he's BFFs with Vice President Biden and Secretary Kerry (they survived a chopper crash landing together and dubbed themselves the Three Amigos). No room for a Fourth Amigo here, so McCain blew.
January 31, 2013
Most days, I come across great topics for cartoons, but am swamped doing other things. Like drawing cartoons. Sometimes these micro-cartoon events may deserve their own comment, but usually I just either throw them away, or put them on Facebook, with my descriptions of what I ate for dinner involving arugula.
This week I saw a few things that lightly to heavily bothered or amused me.
--The Great Barack Obama Shotgun Assertion. This week the president said that he frequently went skeet shooting at Camp David, which has not previously been reported in the news media, nor have any photographs been released of this hobby. The CMM (Conservative Mainstream Media--Drudgefox, etc.) snorted that Obama was basically lying. Honestly, I cannot fathom why in the world the president would bother to lie about this. I suspect there are many hobbies this and previous presidents have enjoyed in the privacy of Camp David which weren't photographed, either, ranging from poker games to intern bathing. So, I believe Obama when he says he was skeet shooting.
--John Kerry LuvFest 2013. Remember when John Kerry was the stiff, tedious inappropriate windsurfer? Now he's the most qualified, bestest-ever in the history of the United States candidate for Secretary of State. This official re-baptism and re-apotheosis of former presidential candidates isn't new (#Hillary2016), but in Kerry's case, it was kind of surprising to me. After all, he managed to blow a very winnable 2004 election by acting like a more entitled, stiffer Al Gore. He was confirmed by his colleagues to the tune of 94-3 (only Sens. Cornyn and Cruz, R-Planet Texas, and some other cranky colleague passed on the coronation).
January 30, 2013
After having spent my entire adult life in the lovely, damp confines of California's northernmost county, Oregon, I was a bit concerned that my new adopted state might not have, you know, any exciting political events to cover.
(Insert irony here).
After all, in Oregon, we worry extensively about things like the spotted owl, the wanderings of wolves, and, if there's big action, maybe a Japanese dock will wash up on our beach we can have our pictures taken in front of. So when I came to California, I was thinking that, sure, they're a faster league, but how much different could it be?
--We didn't have the Maloofs. Our basketball team owner, Paul Allen, was just like Steve Ballmer but more dashing and charismatic (really NICE pocket protector!), so he built Portland its very own arena, relieving Portlanders of the responsibility to do anything other than lightly observe the Blazers at their leisure. People in Portland don't really talk about the Blazers with any more passion than they would discuss the gas company. The Blazers are like a utility: they're there, they work, and, snore, get me another cup of overly-engineered coffee.