p3 Picks of the Week: Daryl Cagle, R. J. Matson, John Darkow, and Steve Breen.
This week's p3 Award for Almost But Not Quite Crossing the Line goes to Scott Stantis, hands down.
From the p3 "Great Minds Think Alike" files: Henry Payne, Bob Englehart, Rob Rogers, and Dana Summers. (Thanks to the Internet--which is, you'll recall, a series of tubes, not a dump truck.)
A special tip of the p3 Descent of Species Hat goes to Mike Lane. Pity poor Poppy: On one hand, the more we see of the son, the more fondly we remember the dad's administration. On the other hand, Junior has pretty much poisoned the Bush political brand for our lifetime. As an intellectual exercise, it's interesting to imagine a parallel universe that was identical to this one in every detail except that Dubya didn't have huge unresolved issues with his father. Would its 2008 now bear much resemblance to our own?
This report just in: Jesse Helms (R - Old Times There Are Not Forgotten) is still dead.
Ann Telnaes doesn't much like how George and Dick keep house.
What a piece of work is Opus, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god!
(By the way, while researching something about "Opus" creator Berke Breathed, I stumbled upon this quote at the Wikipedia entry for him:
Liberal, shmiberal. That should be a new word. Shmiberal: one who is assumed liberal, just because he's a professional whiner in the newspaper. If you'll read the subtext for many of those old strips, you'll find the heart of an old-fashioned Libertarian. And I'd be a Libertarian, if they weren't all a bunch of tax-dodging professional whiners.
Do with that one what you will.)
Portland homeboy Jack Ohman reviews the three rules of real estate.
Animation legend Tex Avery was king of the "extremes." His manic, gag-driven, sexually-knowing style at Warner Bros. (where he created Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, which ought to be enough for anyone's resume) left Disney's saccharine realism in the dust. Here's one of his classics, from 1949 during his MGM stint, in all its eye-popping, jaw-dropping, oogah horn-blowing glory.
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