When Kid Zoom was a wee lad of about 4, his favorite bedtime story for a while was Yr Doktor Zoom's extemporaneous retelling of Charles Lindbergh's transatlantic flight. No idea how we stumbled on that narrative as a bedtime story; maybe there was a hope that the part about Lindbergh barely being able to stay awake as he flew low over the waves might influence a hyper little boy (nahh). And then, of course, several years later, we had to revisit Lucky Lindy and talk about his less than heroic later years as a racist, anti-Semite, isolationist, and pal of the Nazis. Lesson learned: People can do impressive things and still be awful human beings.
Clearly, you've never lived in or near Santa Rosa, CA, or you'd know quite a bit about Charles Schulz. (Not because he was a publicity whore).
The biggest problem with Mallard Fillmore is that is not, and has not ever been, funny. Ever.
Even when on a topic where, perhaps, "liberals" might deserve a little mockery (and you know we do, now and again), Tinsley ham-handedly fucks up.
I keep hoping to find a conservative humorist living today who *is* funny. I guess PJ O'Rourke is the closest to actual wit there is to be found. But honestly, he's not half as clever and amusing as the average liberal self-parody. Proof, if proof were still needed, that conservatives really are useless.
As for Capp: L'il Abner was only funny now and then, at least to me. Even as a child I could sense the demeaning intent, and didn't like it. By the early 1960s Capp's drawing style and ideas were old and tired. He represented the dreary mainstream that was so easily evicted by Pogo, Peanuts, and then R. Crumb and a host of others. Whereas George Harriman's Krazy Kat never got old, never got stale.
It doesn't surprise me that Capp loved Nixon; his audience was the same middle America that was happy to laugh with Johnny Carson and vote for whomever would maintain the status quo.
Kerouac was a Father Coughlin fan? I did not know that, but it conveniently justifies my lifelong conviction that he's a crap writer. Give me Nelson Algren any day.
looks like you may have forgotten the close tags < /a > without the spaces.
More accurately, the Bill Clinton of his day, since Clinton actually raped someone.
Funny that when it's your liberal ox being gored, he becomes "bitter."
Clearly, you've never lived in or near Santa Rosa, CA, or you'd know quite a bit about Charles Schulz. (Not because he was a publicity whore).
The biggest problem with Mallard Fillmore is that is not, and has not ever been, funny. Ever.
Even when on a topic where, perhaps, "liberals" might deserve a little mockery (and you know we do, now and again), Tinsley ham-handedly fucks up.
This is a setup, isn't it?
As I recall, they tasted like whatever you wanted them to.
Asshole?
I keep hoping to find a conservative humorist living today who *is* funny. I guess PJ O'Rourke is the closest to actual wit there is to be found. But honestly, he's not half as clever and amusing as the average liberal self-parody. Proof, if proof were still needed, that conservatives really are useless.
As for Capp: L'il Abner was only funny now and then, at least to me. Even as a child I could sense the demeaning intent, and didn't like it. By the early 1960s Capp's drawing style and ideas were old and tired. He represented the dreary mainstream that was so easily evicted by Pogo, Peanuts, and then R. Crumb and a host of others. Whereas George Harriman's Krazy Kat never got old, never got stale.
It doesn't surprise me that Capp loved Nixon; his audience was the same middle America that was happy to laugh with Johnny Carson and vote for whomever would maintain the status quo.
Kerouac was a Father Coughlin fan? I did not know that, but it conveniently justifies my lifelong conviction that he's a crap writer. Give me Nelson Algren any day.
Before Daisy Dukes there were Daisy Maes.
This might be one of those times we need to keep apart the artist and the artist's work.
The color is nice and naturalistic. Does it have a smooth rubberized coating?
Yet this post was more riveting than I had any right to expect.
(Of course, avoiding homework with it didn't hurt at all. But still...)
And once again we see that the real sexists are the ones <i>noticing</i> the inherent sexism...
Some say Tinsley&#039;s work is morally simplistic. However, others say it&#039;s fatuously juvenile.
Thus endeth my attempt at balance for the day.
A terrifying tag-team of taut truculence.