The Cartoon & Poem Supplement
The Cartoon & Poem Supplement
"I can neither confirm nor deny"
Poems:
“A Sunset” by Robert Hass: For better and worse, this feels like an old left-liberal man talking at you about his political perspective for quite a while. Better because Hass’ Beat-with-deodorant style has its charms; the beginning is really great (“used” can be misread at first, tripping you up in a productive way) – and only the last third of the last stanza tips completely into banality – both the technologically deterministic cliché and the unincisive framing of fascism (the phrase “resentment and fear” lands with a thud.) Even before then, though, the ambling thing Hass does is bothersome when an attentive reader will find his conclusions before he does – as with his reading of Ashbery (counterproductively hedged with a “may be”), or Hitler’s music-listening habits (where surely we don’t need a theoretical example to get the point.) The evil/good stuff, complete with demons, I’m not even going to touch. Nietzsche said it best.
“The Dahlias” by Didi Jackson: I’m not sure if it’s bad of me to read any and every poem with unmetered rhyme as essentially descending from Ogden Nashian light verse. This poem does not have schematic metered rhyme.1 But there are still a few rhymes and near-rhymes sprinkled in toward the end, and it makes the ending in particular read as very silly – as in Symphonies. There is certainly a bit of that in the final image, and I appreciate a poem with a marked shift of mood in its volta. I just think it’s too big a swing here, though; the ambience of the first two-thirds is full of Plathian melancholy (even if plenty of the images have a cartoonish feel in retrospect; monks and cabinet doors) so Jackson’s sudden wicked smile sparks distrust. Where did that come from?
Cartoons:
Here's where to find the cartoons, with credits, in order.
Cover: This is, for sure, a little bit hacky. “Have you ever noticed that the childcare in this city is done mostly by people of color, many of whom have their own families?” Yes – everyone has noticed that. It’s impossible to walk around uptown Manhattan even once and not notice that. However… it made me tear up. The composition of the illustration is so good, the faces are rendered so well and with such honest emotion, there’s great use of color… and a number of my friends work in childcare, so it’s nice to see it represented in an honest light, one that views it as labor without making it look awful. I do also understand why some could see this cover as performatively woke in a rather patronizing way. Sorry to the haters, I’m here for it.
(Editing to add that I just saw a viral tweet stating with no evidence that people aren’t understanding the cover. So maybe it’s less hacky material than I think – or maybe it’s exactly the kind of hacky material that people like to pat themselves on the back for understanding. I like the cover because its execution transcends its premise.)
Pg. 11: Alright, this just reminds me of shortform video creator2 Fuffy Ferrets, who does stupid little voices for her ferrets, and whose life is obviously consumed by their care. Famously, she keeps, in the ferret room, a large tub of dry macaroni which the ferrets enjoy being plunged into.
Pg. 13 [Sketchpad]: Those Captcha-photo things are a clever scaffolding for a bunch of panels riffing on an idea. Some of these panels are pretty funny, and there’s a good balance between totally zany (guy eating beans in the elevator) and more normal (crowded bar).
Pg. 16: I assume the bear has been hospitalized with severe constipation.
Pg. 21: I feel like there are two obvious pulls here: the first is “Interpretive Jazz Hands”, to riff on interpretive dance; the second, which I think I favor, is “Free Jazz Hands”. You certainly can speak of Avant-Garde Jazz, but it’s not quite as snappy.
Pg. 29: Next you can try these Doc Martens. There’s always another blister.
Pg. 32: I like the seemingly superfluous top guy, who is presumably there just to show that it’s not actually raining. He adds something ineffable compositionally.
Pg. 34: I feel like the cliché is to say this sort of thing to your kid as they leave for college, not as they leave for, seemingly, fifth grade. But that makes the joke funnier – it vaguely suggests that one of this guy’s problems is inappropriate vulnerability, which is matched by his kid’s stoicism.
Pg. 38: Zany and overexerted.
Pg. 43: A sitcom joke, not helped by the mugging faces. But I like the banality of being the “most consistent pitcher”.
Pg. 47: Parachuting yourself in the foot.
Pg. 48: MPJ today stands for Mild Personality, Juxtaposed. (I will admit this one did the thing all the mid pet jokes are meant to do, which is make me say, “Hey, my dog is like that!”)
Pg. 52: The idea of a non-deserted man finding a dead fish on a beach and wanting to eat it moreso suggests “significant personality disorder” than “quirky marital tiff”. Kinda feels like Vey just wanted to use the phrase “not sushi grade”, which, to be fair, is a great phrase.
Pg. 57: A nice drawing, just the right amount of detail. The briefcase doesn’t command so much attention as to telegraph the joke. Best of the Week.
Pg. 65: Pretty sure regular milk is grass milk, with a few extra steps.
Pg. 66: Well, judging by the size of that table you have to “get your steps in” in order to do so, so at least there’s that.
21 Years Ago Today
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