Cartoon Violence Don't Preach
We here at Cartoon Violence have long held that children are the future. That just stands to reason. They can't be the present, because they can't vote, and if they can't vote, they can't affect politics, except to the extent that their grandparents, who love them and have like a zillion pictures of the little tykes in their wallets, do vote, obsessively. So, like we said, children: the future. Of course, before children are children, they're fetuses, which means, of course, that fetuses are the future. And before fetuses are fetuses, they're a pair of gametes which can only be brought to together by sweet, sweet lovin'. Which means, obviously, that sex is the future, which is awesome because it's much more interesting that children.
Anyway, this week: A bunch of cartoons about children and fetuses, plus one about animals having sex for some reason.
You get a gold star, son: Remember, a human embryo expands rapidly over its gestation period, especially in the early weeks. Be sure you know how far along it is before choosing your weapon. A .22 might take care of a blastula or embryo, but for anything past the 20th week, you're going to want something with some stopping power, probably an automatic.
Go sit in the corner: The practice of fetus-hunting is not considered "sporting" by many outdoorsmen, but that hasn't stopped it from becoming a big-money business on private ranches.
You get a gold star, son: I suppose, based on the bizarre label on his freakishly distended upper lip, that Mr. Supreme Court is supposed to be gleefully chowing down on a woman's right to choose, but when I first saw this cartoon I assumed he was chowing messily down on a fetus. Which frankly makes almost as much sense.
Go sit in the corner: I suppose this black-robed fellow is supposed to represent the Supreme Court as an abstract concept, but the fact that he's as wide as he is tall leaves open the possibilities that he is actually all nine justices wearing a disguise. A very clever fetus-eating disguise.
You get a gold star, son: What with the soaring rates of autism, soon our public parks, long the preserve of children who like hugging and are incapable of determining the date of Easter five centuries out, will be overrun by the neurologically diverse. Our only hope is to build vast moats around swingsets and jungle gyms in an attempt to keep them out.
Go sit in the corner: Unfortunately, the autistic are fiendishly clever. Didn't you ever see Rain Man? Or read that English book where the dog gets killed by the "garden fork," and it takes you fifty pages to realize that that's just what they call a pitchfork over there? They'll find a way across, is what I'm saying.
You get a gold star, son: You know those bad science fiction stories where people get a chance to go back and time and kill Hitler but something ironic happens that actually turns Hitler into Hitler? Surely most conservatives would light up with glee at the prospect of aborting Hillary Clinton in the 178th trimester, but this would almost certainly backfire, and a few years later they'll find themselves being deported to the political re-education camps set up by the Kucinich-Gravel administration.
Go sit in the corner: Any cartoon that portrays the three leading Democratic presidential candidates as adorable, fully clothed fetuses about to be partial-birth aborted is automatically one of the most awesome things I have ever seen. If only there were some umbilical cords, it would be just about perfect.
You get a gold star, son: The fox and the chicken are about to have angry, angry sex.
Go sit in the corner: I don't have a clue what this is supposed to mean, though I guess it might be unfair to ask that a cartoon about fox-on-chicken sex have any larger meaning. --THE COMICS CURMUDGEON