Election Friction

BaraClint


There are some battles that are eternal: chocolate vs. vanilla, pinkos vs. fascists, McDonald’s vs. Burger King, Godzilla vs. Mothra, inferior sesame seed (a.k.a. white seed) bagels vs. superior poppy seed (a.k.a. black seed) bagels. Let us not forget other battles such as fast vs. slow, geeks vs. jocks and north vs. south, but east vs. west is less well-known and they want to keep that way. And what do all these battles have in common? No, it’s not nudity as so many have of you have suspected. It’s all about Harmony vs. Friction.

Why did I capitalize those two words? Because someone from the Marketing Department told me to.

And this episode of the comic that no one dares to admit they will read – even on the toilet, in jail, in solitary confinement – has produced a deep, insightful and mesmerizing commentary on that eternal battle of Harmony vs. Friction. You see, harmony is what most of us in the universe seek and crave deeply because we get enough friction at work, the grocery store, Costco and the damn gas station, those filthy thieving bastards. They raised the price again last night! Sorry.

So we need harmony to move forward and cope with life – either in the form of meditation, alcohol, sleep, or pills that help us sleep. Or laughing gas stolen from the dentist’s office.

But there are those who revel in friction as they see it as the metaphorical generator of static electricity to shock others into action. Friction leads to the smoke that leads to the fire that leads to the insurance claim for the imaginary Picasso and Rembrandt you said you had stored in your basement before the fire. Friction is the stuff of politics, the stuff thoughts are made of. You know that smoke that comes out of your ears when you get an idea? It’s mental friction, baby. Friction is the rug burn you got when you figured “oh, it’ll be a quickie and it’ll be worth it” but then your best friend saw the rug burns and knowingly looked at you and thought “you filthy slime bag, can’t you keep it in your pants?”

So as the friction of Obama and Clinton will lead to lively debates, the ensuing fake, big-toothed whitener-enhanced smiles will denote harmony among the political class and the people who seek some kind of stability and respite from a world of chaos around them.

Let the battle begin, and end quickly, since Return of the Jedi is on in 20 minutes.

May peace and anger be with you always.

Zen Master Kobo Mookie

Religion – More Of It

Religion

If you’re still following this delicately and artfully illustrated chronic of the human condition as depicted by gargoyles with stunted growth, then you have way too much time on your hands because you’re in prison or an insane asylum. And that is a great segue to this installment of the comic that does not take prisoners.

Because there is mention of Robert Mugabe and Hitler and both of those men should have been imprisoned and tortured. But I am not sure how the Gandhi reference got in there as he was on the other extreme of the spectrum, especially where fashion was concerned.

Why is it that the most fervent and fundamental followers of any religion have to wear a special garb or have a freaky hair-do? I mean, think about it. There is always some kind of furry adornment, like a hairy, furry streiml or some kind of lengthy beard like Osama or Khomeni had that looked like an insane religious barber had tended them. I won’t start on the Pope’s dress, sorry, cassock. Come on, you can’t tell me Jean-Paul Gauthier or Coco Channel didn’t have a hand in decorating that thing? And those Buddhists monks are just a layer of fabric away from walking the catwalk New York this fall.

But I digress.

It seems that the myth of religion is as critical as the traditions built in to it. And that you can’t have a good religion — you know one that spreads around and probably leads to a war and a conversion or two, not to mention some crazy garb worn by its most ardent practitioners  — without a heck of a good back story, some fine threads, and some weird hair action.

And Francylvanian Reform does that for those of you tired of the run-of-the-mill religions that preach peace and violence in the same breath. This one has wombats, inner peace and I think a lot of meat and soup. Probably not vegan friendly, but vegans are just as ardent a religious group as any organized set of preachers and followers, just with way worse food and far too many clothes made of hemp. Have you seen these people? It’s way more than a lifestyle choice.

So choose what religion you will, whatever makes you happy. And if you’re an atheist, keep sneering, keep eating, and watch stuff on YouTube til your eyes go buggy.

What Religion?

Found Religion


If religion is indeed the opiate of the masses, where does that leave TV? Or better yet, the Internet? Are they runners-up? Or are they competitors for the annual title Opiate of the Masses competition held yearly at the headquarters of Religion Inc., noted printers of religious materials for all the worlds’ religions, working out of a copy shop near the back alley in the east end of the city. They have such a shameful markup, especially on the DVDs they produce. It’s scandalous.

But I digress.

So in the grand competition of the title of the Opiate of the Masses, it seems religion is in deep competition with other forms of enslavement, such as the aforementioned Internet and TV, but also and equally pervasive fried foods, food deep fired with a batter, sugary confections that use a slightly adjusted version of heroin and petroleum as the basic ingredients. Let us not forget pornography, German sports cars, clothing, most Apple products, home decorating and renovation shows, cooking TV shows where people swear and compete for nothing really meaningful, slasher movies, cement glue, pain killers and stuffed animals.

It turns out that after extensive research with my eyes closed and subsequent navel-gazing just after a large pasta-based meal that religion is what you make of it. And in this particular instance of the comic that is being denounced by most religious leaders and even cult leaders for stealing valuable Internet bandwidth, it seems that our lead character is a man of religion, a religion not know to many, quite obscure and pretty bizarre. Who knew that Buddhists smoke cigarettes like that?

Then again they are Francylvanian Reform, so the fundamental elements of the religion (abstinence from fried potato products and trimming hedges into the shapes of rabbits) aren’t being followed. They are just holding on to the traditions so they can make sure his mother doesn’t give him even more guilt for corrupting the child.

So let this be a message unto you — eat your fried foods, they are good for you and they’ll keep you coming back for more.

The Homeland

Dear readers of the comic, and those who move their lips when they read the comic whilst avoiding work,

This episode of the comic that will one day be the cause of at least one domestic dispute or a police raid was written in my head in order to try and rive the back story of the characters. Sure, it’s a pretty threadbare idea, much like worn cheesecloth, but I often think everyone needs a back story. It makes life much more like a book or a movie, albeit in this case with poorly constructed dialog, drawings and plot line.

When I thought of where my characters come from — the deep, dark, troubled recesses of my mind notwithstanding — I knew they weren’t of North American descent, nor Asian (too fat for that), not African, possibly Australian given the father’s criminal intents, but a mysterious Eastern European country that never existed seemed like the right angle. And who can blame me for thinking of “Francylvania” seeing as it’s seems semi-plausible to someone who really doesn’t have any formal education or access to the Internet.

And this episode should serve as a lesson to all those who search for their roots. Know where you’re from, so you can know who you are. Or you can know where you don’t want to go back to. Especially if it was a dump with a shady history. Or what countries to avoid when traveling with a lot of cash or weed. Or stump someone in a trivia game with the name of a made-up country such as Francylvania.

As for the Taco Bell and petroleum food references, they were easy jokes that I had to throw in there to fill out the dialog.

Be well, know thine self as well as thine significant other, but not in public.

Maitre Jean val Jon

Political Theater

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

The Beginning

The BeginningWhen we things start — and I mean things we intentionally start, like fires, rumors, and computer viruses — more often than not, we don’t really care where they will wind up. In fact, I dare say we consciously ignore them not caring what the resulting perils will be. Often we walk away to eat something sugary or fatty or greasy, like a huge pizza, or to catch a TV show on the Web or the 72-inch plasma screen that cost a fortune to buy, install and get all the channels for.

See? I just mentally walked away from my very first creation, that of Stanko & Tibor, the inaugural cartoon of what will hopefully be a dynasty unparalleled in the annals of illustrative history. And if it isn’t a dynasty, then as long as I leave my mark. A good mark, not a stain, which many would allege this comic is. Like grape juice on a white carpet, or like mud on a shag carpet that even the toxic cleaner with the “spring fresh” name you buy at the store from a multinational conglomerate with a record of polluting wading pools in poorer neighborhoods.

No, it shall be a chronicle of the history of humor, of my mind, its myriad turns, twists and potholes. It shall bear witness to the absurdity that is daily life, daily politics, daily mayhem that is a day job. It will be carved into some database’s silicon chip memory like digital stone, never to be erased! Well, unless the CIA gets a hold of it, or maybe a meteor crashes into the data center. Actually, I bet it’ll be a CIA meteor.

So enjoy the musings, stylings and ramblings of a man who needs more sleep.

It's free humor for the immature