And We Shall Give Ourselves Over To The Beasts
By the Comics Curmudgeon
Ha ha, another week gone, another week in which our economy and the posh lifestyle it has afforded us continues to circle the drain, leading us inevitably towards despair! This has of course led to much finger-pointing, recrimination, etc. Should Tim Geithner be in charge of the Treasury? Should the entire class of jackholes who ran the financial services industry for the last decade be purged? And if so, who should we replace them with? Oh, sure, you liberals will be all like "Trained government bureaucrats!" But is that really "outside the box" enough for our current predicament? What if instead we turned to the animal kingdom? They could do all the work, while we relaxed and lived like kings!
Click on the little comics, and then they will be larger!
You know who loves us humans? The pigs! The noble, wonderful pigs! The noble, wonderful, delicious pigs! The thing about pigs is that they actually know how delicious they are. And they don't care that you know! Why would they want you to refrain from eating yummy pig-flesh? Bacon is awesome! People love pork! And if what they have to do to make you really happy is construct a monstrous temple made out of the bones and muscle and flayed skin of their fellow pigs, and stand atop it like some sort of impresario, begging you to come and eat of their bodies, they're going to go that extra mile. For us.
The cows, in marked contrast, have a serious attitude problem. I mean, check this one out. This cow isn't even the kind that we're going to kill and eat. All we want is for her to keep pumping out that delicious, delicious milk. Sure, it's caused her to lose a bit of weight, but that ultra-slim look is all the rage these days. And Barack Obama is even greeting her with one of his patented sexist sayings! Yet all she can do is look at us with sad, sad eyes. Well, cow, I'm afraid that the pig is now my go-to quadruped.
This elephant, now, I'm not sure how I feel about him. I mean, sure, he appears to be gleefully cramming his own trunk into some kind of meat grinder, the better to make nose-sausage for our consumption. But if you'll look closely, there's no ground trunk-meat emerging from the grinder's output area. Is it some kind of trick meat grinder, meant to fool us as to the elephant's intentions? And even if it isn't, is nose-sausage even something I particularly want to eat? What if it's all full of elephant boogers? Do elephants have boogers?
And what will we humans do while the animals are taking care of everything with their delicious acts of self-mutilation? Why, get really high, of course! Here we see beloved national symbol Uncle Sam -- long having been a hippie, as evidenced by his kooky beard and generally outlandish clothing choices -- toking up from a joint literally made out of an entire country, our doomed neighbor to the south. Other nations need to watch out for this desperate metaphor/drug fiend: soon he'll be snorting Portugal, dropping Mongolia, and huffing the Central African Republic.
Even those who successfully avoid the Demon Dope fall prey to that other great American vice: fucking, and its associated baby-production. Our fecund money overlord in particular has been indulging in this pastime, as you can see. And who can blame him? If you had to choose between fixing the shit-stained rat's nest of clusterfuckery that is the American financial system, or having unprotected sex with multiple ladies attracted to your big forehead and access to the Fed's employee lounge (the one with the really good vending machine), I think we all know which route most of us would go! As sweatball-inducing as it might be to suddenly find oneself an "octodad", it's still better than trying to make everyone's 401K magically reappear.
Meanwhile, the lovable Muppet cast of Sesame Street have been forced to work as prostitutes, for crack.