I'm probably the last to finally allude to the
Johnny Cash lyric to describe Hillary Clinton's speech last week on
Donald Trump's many shortcomings as a candidate, a leader of a party,
and a human being, and anyway – strictly speaking – she didn't
shoot him in Reno "just to watch him die."
I'm also one of those who put aside his
initial disappointment that she didn't target the entire GOP
apparatus that has been building Trump in its basement laboratory
since the early 1980s. Partly that's because declining to go full
slaughterhouse mode on them slightly ups the odds that those voters
will stay home out of embarrassment, waste their vote on a
third-party candidate, or (least likely) actually vote for Clinton –
in each case driving up the margin of her increasingly-likely
victory. Along the same lines, elected Republicans who appreciate
that they were allowed to save some small amount of face (however
undeserved) when Clinton declined to lump them into the same
crazy-bowl as their candidate, might have at least some tiny
motivation to do their damned jobs and work with her administration
on some things at least, whereas history teaches us that they will have zero
motivation to do so otherwise. (Pierce
cites evidence this last is even more of a pipe dream than I'd
guessed. Ah well.)
As fun as it is to imagine the
Republican party collapsing like a wet taco – or the Whig Party –
over the next four to eight years, I confess I wouldn't want to be
the Democratic president trying to keep a lid on things while the
Grand Old Party was going through its death throes at the other end
of Pennsylvania Avenue. I imagine it would look a lot like the T-1000
falling into the vat of molten metal, flailing and shrieking and spasming through
every guise it had ever taken on to do its evil work as it went down.
Not something you'd want to be standing near as it happened. (And even if every congressional Republican resigned his or her seat tomorrow, the state-level incubators from which many of the worst of them first emerged will still be operating around the clock.)
And of course, the conspicuous silence
of every top Republican (except for the Trump campaign itself, which
unsurprisingly squealed like a stuck pig in 140 characters or less)
after Clinton's take-down was eloquent.
They've got the slow drip of Clinton's
e-mails and foundation, stories which continue to go nowhere at twice
the speed of sound, but that's really it. Things could somehow turn
around for the GOP in the next 71 days, but it would take a miracle
(actually, it would take a disaster), so for now, sucks to be them.
Oddly enough, although Clinton's
Reno speech came early enough in the week that political cartoonists
had time to think it through, we didn't see a lot about it in
this week's p3 toon review,
although some harmless fun was had at the expense of Trump campaign handlers and surrogates. Perhaps this is evidence supporting the theory that the smartest thing for the Republican establishment to do, post-Reno, is to ignore it and deny the political press any fuel for the fire.
In any case,
people with life-threatening allergies got a blunt reminder this week
of why public health shouldn't be traded on the stock exchange.
Today's toons were selected from the
week's offerings at McClatchy
DC, Cartoon Movement,
Go Comics, Politico's
Cartoon Gallery, Daryl
Cagle's Political Cartoons, About.com,
and other fine sources of toony goodness.
p3 Picks of the week: Mike
Luckovich, Chan
Lowe, Steve
Benson, Jeff
Danziger, Glenn
McCoy, Steve
Breen, Tim
Eagan, Clay
Jones, Matt
Weurker, and Monte
Wolverton.
p3 Best of Show: Walt
Handlesman.
p3 Legion of Merit: Brian
McFadden.
p3 Certificate of Achievement for
Ignoring Away Trump Campaign's Billions
in Free Media: Bob
Gorrell.
Ann Telnaes
has a
simple request.
Mark Fiore invites us to
celebrate some of America's
Worst Ideas.
Tom Tomorrow charts election
phenomena in 2016 – and
beyond.
Keith Knight shares a golden
oldie: Wondering
what the heck is all this commotion?
Reuben Bolling's Super-Fun-Pak
Comix features the return of a p3
favorite: Percival Dunwoody, Idiot Time Traveler from 1909. But it's
Imaginary
Friends & Their Imaginary Friends that really made me laugh.
And then go, "hmm."
Carol Lay
shares the
truth about creativity and love. Happy ending? You tell me.
Red Meat probes the
eternal optimism of Milkman Dan.
The Comic Curmudgeon is enjoying
the current story arc in Spider-Man, but fails to
appreciate Stan Lee and Larry Lieber's awesome shout-out
to Dorothy Parker and her review of House on Pooh
Corner in the second panel.
Comic Strip of the Day discusses
scandals,
knife fights, and things that were horrifying in 1971, finding
time along the way to be provoked by the same Jen Sorenson toon I did
(below).
"If that cat's been in that
kitchen . . . !" And there you have most of the plot of "The Midnight Snack," directed by
Joe Hanna and William Barbera (uncredited) in 1941, the second Tom
and Jerry cartoon, although the first in which they're referred to by their
now-familiar names. (In their first short, "Puss Gets the Boot,"
they're named, respectively, Jasper and Jinx.) I love the deep blues
and shadows – like "Puss Gets the Boot," "The
Midnight Snack" is set in a darkened house, lit mainly by
refrigerator lights, radio dials, etc. And, of course, Tom still
looks like a Russian Blue cat. The character of the black house
maid, nearly always shown only from the shoulders down (sometimes
knees down) was voiced by veteran radio/TV/film actor Lillian
Randolph, who made a pretty successful alt-career playing black
house maids and similar characters during that era. (She did the maid
in several Tom and Jerry shorts between 1940 and 1952.
The character's name, which I don't recall ever being used on-screen,
is Mammy Two-Shoes. Consider yourself warned. For TV syndication, the
voice of Mammy Two-Shoes was redubbed by other actors, notably June
Foray – later to voice Rocky the Flying Squirrel and many others –
as a white teenager. Sometimes Mammy's lower body was replaced with
that of a typical teenaged bobby-soxer from the era and sometimes –
inexplicably – not.) Watch
"The Midnight Snack" at Vimeo.com.
The Transplendent Oregon Toon Block:
Ex-Oregonian Jack Ohman
demonstrates the
fundamentals of the pivot.
Documented
Ex-Oregonian Jen Sorensen has a
strip today that reminds me of a store about three blocks from where
I'm sitting right now, called Nature's Grocery. Despite the friendly
green store name, most of its products are wrapped
and packaged like they're expecting a drive-by shooting on the
way to check-out. Do ramen noodles really need two layers of
packaging?
Matt Bors outlines a
perfectly understandable good-faith error.
Jesse Springer looks at another
victim of Oregon's pattern of nickel
and diming things that should be top priorities:
the chronically underfunded and understaffed Oregon Department of
Forestry.
Test your toon-captioning kung fu at
The New Yorker's weekly caption-the-cartoon
contest. (Rules here.)
And you can browse The New Yorker's cartoon gallery here.
The p3 Sunday Comics Read-Along:
Pearls
Before Swine, Doonesbury,
Rhymes with Orange, Zits,
Adam @ Home, Mutts,
Over the
Hedge, Get
Fuzzy, Prince
Valiant, Blondie,
Bizarro, Mother
Goose & Grimm, Rose
is Rose, Luann,
Hagar
the Horrible, Pickles,
Rubes, Grand
Avenue, Freshly
Squeezed, The Brilliant Mind
of Edison Lee, and Jumble.
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