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Meaning of Life

The Stupid Police

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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

Day-to-Day, Meaning of Life

Parental Discretion Is Advised

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Parental Discretion Is Advised

The bond between parent and child is so complex and deep, so fraught with minefields, so unpredictable, yet so strong, mystical and vibrant that it makes you wonder why the hell you had kids in the first place. Really, is it worth all that expense and trouble to have genetic replications of yourself, just so they MIGHT consider taking of you in their house or if you’re lucky, letting you stay in yours? They could always ship you off to an “assisted living facility” a.k.a the old folks home, a death-adjacent edifice with 3 meals a day and rationed pills.

I often wonder what is that precise moment when the parent becomes the child and vice versa. It is probably just after the offspring gets married or shacks up with a significant other (possibly with a tattoo) and just before some new technology comes into fashion, one that will require the offspring to play handyman/help desk until death do them part. Or the machine breaks and the old man says “screw it, I’ll go buy a new one.”

And make no mistake about it – your children will love you, loathe you, and generally disrespect you as they age from toddler to teen and then forget to appreciate the wonderful things you did for them like put food on the table, bathe and clean them and try to make sure they didn’t die while playing with explosives and toxic cleaners you were too lazy to put up on a high shelf.

And then they’ll get married and turn to you for advice, wisdom and probably a fairly sizable loan to get into a house, or some such nonsense. And as a parent. if you can afford it and if your offspring has married a complete dolt, you’ll probably accede to that demand for cash. And you’ll do it a) because you love that kid, and b) because if you don’t, that kid may choose your retirement home.

So the lesson is this: That commandment about “Honor thy mother and father” is hooey. Be nice to your kids because they’re the ones who are going to take care of you down the road.

Frustration & Complaint, Meaning of Life

Political Theater

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PoliticsDear readers of this comic body politic,

Upon watching the vitriol that is U.S. politics and the election campaign of bitter rivals in a country so divided, I realized that truth takes a second, or third place to what political pundits call “name calling.” And there is not darker, more cynical, more hate-inspired bastion of name calling than American politics.

And it teaches something about human nature that we should all learn from. Politicians and especially their handlers (cuz lord knows they have to be handled like thin-shelled Faberge eggs) have to be creative hurlers of insults, fantastic backhanded compliment givers, and plain old liars. Because where power is concerned, there are no rules, there are no holds barred, there is only the denigration of the other. And let me tell you, it employs a whole lot of people so don’t discount that as a force for employment in this economically savaged world we live in.

So maybe it’s we eligible voters who should allow this name calling and denigration, if only because it allows so many otherwise despicable, bitter and unemployable people to be tax-paying, productive members of society. That is, until one side is elected that claimed the other side was a pack of scum-sucking bottom-feeders and the elected become blood-sucking leeches on the society that elected them. Funny how that works, eh?

In short, we have to live hypocrisy of all manner (print, radio, online and TV), even revel in it  — otherwise we’ll disengage and play with our Xbox or download “adult” content. And if this name calling is worth anything, it’s that it keeps politicos off the street every time there is an election otherwise they’d be stuck inhaling toner and the copy shop and then begging for money and insulting you while ignoring them

May you vote in peace.

Stay strong,

Recently paroled Congressman Jon