Tag Archives: back from the dead

The Stupid Police

If you haven’t yet given up on this comic, also known in academic circles as the “meandering minstrel of the moronic” and you are still tuning in from your prison cell or Electro-Convulsive Therapy chair, then I owe you an apology. It has been over a month since the last episode I posted, and I blame the fun I am having at work. (True story, I swear.)

And fun comes in so many different guises and faces, and the latest one actually involved a cull of sorts. That of my wardrobe, and specifically of my pants, shirts, t-shirts, underwear with holes, etc., that were just occupying space and cluttering creativity and orderliness.

Which is an odd but appropriate segue to the subject of this particular installment of the skillfully crafted, deftly drawn, partially poetic chronicle known in the Oxford Literary Companion to the Bearded and Sexually Deviant Academics Association simply as Stanko & Tibor: Fodder for Folly and Asinine Alliteration.

You see, I was reading a book called You Are What You Speak that happened to coincide with an event of supreme idiocy that has become known globally as “Pastagate.” If you’re not aware, check out any of the reports on NPR, SoundCloud, Huffington Post or Facebook. The short version: Xenophobic Quebec government language zealots runs amok with my tax dollars when they could be funding hospitals, schools, the poor or just shutting the hell up.

(Yeah, I know it happened a month ago, but we creative types like to brood and eat sugary cookies and fatty, grilled steaks all in an attempt to spike our creative juices, but sometimes that cookie thing becomes a minor addiction and distracts us from the task at hand.)

So, how do I get from the clothes culling to the language police? Well, Pastagate was yet another upsettingly ridiculous event where the language spoken and written by allegedly free people came under the scrutiny of some linguistic idiots. And the  aforementioned book cites countless examples in dozens upon dozens of countries where some people have tried to do the same thing in the name of language purity (and xenophobia and, ahem, nation building). Governments,  kingdoms and religious types the world over since 806 A.D. have been trying to regulate language and keep it “pure.” They try to cull excess “foreign” words, cut down what some academy or such deems inappropriate, and thus through edict, fiat or policy keep things orderly and safe for society at large.

We wouldn’t want to introduce dirty, foreign words that have a certain “je ne sais quoi” or even worse that have “chutzpah” that could create “angst”, now would we?

Besides it was a chance for me to gratuitously refer back to my last installment a month ago with the inflatable unicorn hat for cats. Shameless? Sure, but since when have I had shame? A conscience, maybe, but no shame.

So please keep reading, keep commenting, tweet, forward, like, whatever you want to spread the word of this injustice (about me not being recognized as a brilliant cartoonist/auteur)  and maybe the universe will reward you with a nice toasted bagel with butter or cream cheese.

Kindest and fondest regards,

Django Django Druker

Games Night for the Stupid

Stanko & Tibor Games Night

Well, the comic that spawned a hate mail campaign is back from the dead. OK, that’s too much. It’s back from a prolonged vacation, induced by a period of overwork, overstress, and undersleep. Probably some other over-unders, but I’ll let the bookies guess at those.

This installment of the finest comic extant brings us back to our roots, that of social get-togethers, of games where we played happily, where we could just plain have fun. And what does dad go and do? Well, read the comic and find out. I am not here to spoon feed you, you know.

Speaking of dads, tonight he and my mom celebrate their 51st wedding anniversary, so here is your present, mom and dad. Happy anniversary.  Your cheap-o son couldn’t come up with anything better. Maybe I’ll make you a dinner. I’ll not go into the litany of nasty jokes and crude one-liners my father has up his sleeve for just these occasions. I’ll just say this: Dad, I can’t find my bag. The rest is up to you.

I can’t say as I was overly happy with the style of the cartoon, but seeing as I hadn’t put electronic pen to silicon tablet in over 4 weeks (!!), you’ll excuse my rustiness and bulky style. I will endeavor to not let such a long period of non-comic-related activity happen again unless forced to cease via court order, or some guy wielding an axe.

This installment, however, is a one off, it’s a joke I have wanted to do for many months and was lying around my gmail inbox, hiding away for the right time to use it. I couldn’t find a right time, so I chose now. But I have many a storyline waiting for publication and what’s more, I have decided in a chocolate cookie, sugar-induced high that when the 50th episode of Stanko & Tibor is published, I will gather my gems and publish a book of them for all to consume (or use as a fire log). When that time comes, I will alert you. You have been warned.

Much love to all two of you who asked for me to keep on cartooning, but I think you were dangerously low on your medication.

Keep reading, keep the faith, and keep sending me money.