There has to be a long lost Apostle who was really into abusing children. The Catholic Church was willing to slack on the whole fish on Friday thing as modern lifestyles changed, but they remain sticklers for the whole protecting-rapists thing.
Matt Bors has more on the subject.
If pope hat is not already a euphemism for a sex act, we should put our filthy thinking caps on.
I know the Pope’s a German Nazi, but it’s too much fun to say that line from the Alka Seltzer commercial.
Mike in the UK sent in this funny correction to panel three from last Friday’s The Metric Resistance cartoon:
I generally don’t believe in English authority over our shared language, but I’m conceding this point to him. Why? Every goddamn theater in Boston spells it theatre. And it’s not like the American spelling of liter was getting much use anyway.
But this isn’t over. I’ll be visiting London in May, and I’m going to hunt and gut all of their colours and humours until the Thames is choked with the carcasses of superfluous Us.
Anyone with even a tiny math and science background will tell you that the metric system kicks the shit out of our current system, which is a bastard cousin of the long-gone British Imperial system. Dumb America’s stubborn refusal to adopt it is almost as embarrassing as their opposition to health insurance reform.
I know the French invented metric units, but come on! With the metric system, it would be very easy for even the dumbest American to upsize their Frito Pie recipe for a big-ass tea bag party.
Look at this map of countries that use the metric system:
Only the United States, Burma, and Liberia aren’t on board. Antarctica is also gray, but only scientists are down there, and I’m sure they aren’t using pounds and ounces to weigh penguin shit.
Although I’m a big advocate for the metric system, beer and burgers should be measured in pints and pounds for all eternity. I’m in favor of progress, but some things shouldn’t be fucked with.
UPDATE: Over on the BFW Facebook page, Garth pointed out this song from Atom and His Package:
Support BFW and buy stuff!
In an interview with the Russian kid who created Chatroulette, he said he named it after this famous scene in The Deer Hunter. I am dubious about his claim. How could a Russian be unaware of Russian Roulette until he saw it in an American movie? They even play it at weddings over there. If he really wanted to pay homage to this fine film, he would’ve named his website “Shoot Yourself in the Head with Christopher Walken.”
Kucinich switched his position on health care reform in the days since I drew this. He is still irrelevant. He’s a fine progressive, but yelling about peace and single payer doesn’t make the legislative sausage. (It makes for good cartoons and blog posts, though.)
On the other hand, there’s Obama, who’s willing to compromise his positions every time a Republican lets out an entitled, vaguely racist queef in his direction. The concessions that dude has made in the name of bipartisanship are too numerous and depressing to list.
Unfortunately, this sad sack of a president who can’t negotiate his way out of a paper bag is the best chance liberals have at getting anything done at least until 2016. It is my hope that passing Health Care Reform will finally get a doctor to help Obama’s testicles descend.
I’m tired of pointing it out, but anyone opposed to HCR because of costs and deficits is a fucking hypocrite pandering to mouth breathers. We’re talking orders of magnitude less than the cost of each of the two wars we’re currently waging for reasons who-the-fuck-knows. That’s not even including the cost-reducing impacts of the bill. You can complain about earmarks and entitlements all you want, but you probably shouldn’t be blowing the gun of a $6.5 million Abrams tank while you’re doing it.
Next Week: Metric System Resistance
While researching this cartoon, I learned that the clurichaun is a much cooler version of the leprechaun. I also spent too much time reading the insanity of Twilight nerds and fairy dorks who insist on spelling it faerie.
Don’t drink green beer this St. Patrick’s Day. That’s only acceptable if you have a clover tramp stamp or are a date-rapist.
Next Week: Political Blind Items
I’ve been busy and missed this update to my Texas Textbooks cartoon and commentary. The conservative district that Ding Dong McElroy represented on the Texas Board of Education voted him out in favor of the more reasonable Republican, Thomas Ratliff by the slimmest of margins.
But the best thing in the article is McElroy’s stance against teaching Chinese Literature in schools:
“[Y]ou really don’t want Chinese books with a bunch of crazy Chinese words in them. Why should you take a child’s time trying to learn a word that they’ll never ever use again?” He conceded some terms, such as “chow mein,” might be useful, the San Antonio Express-News reported.
I’d love to see a comprehensive list of “foreign” words McElroy deems acceptable. It probably includes chop suey, nacho, lasagna, and bukkake.
Jen Sorensen‘s been covering this territory on her blog for months, and the New York Times recently followed her lead. I felt the subject could use a few dick jokes, so I gave it a go.
The reason why the web is populated with low-rent, sometimes scammy ads is because online advertising is cheap. I don’t know if it’s a fair price or undervalued by out-of-touch advertisers who still think a full page in Cat Fancy reaches more eyeballs than an ad running next to the most recent viral cat video.
Unlike a lot of people, I don’t mind sitting through the occasional ad if it means I can watch or read something useful for free. Producing cool shit takes time and money, and unless you want to buy everyone’s merchandise or wait for a Kickstarter campaign to fund something, ads are a necessary means to entertaining your goldbricking ass.
Next Week: Weelight
Since the American Academy of Pediatrics recommended a redesign of the hot dog, I figured I’d toss my design solution into the ring. I willingly admit that this doesn’t beat the spiral dog.
[Cartoonist Note: It was announced that Jim Bunning ended his filibuster threat while I was typing this up. That doesn’t change the fact that he remains a senile turd.]
Bunning is the Grandpa Abe Simpson of the Senate. I don’t have anything to say about how he partially froze the government beyond what Kevin Moore and David Rees have already said. BUT, I have been driven insane by all the baseball puns and clichés used by news outlets covering this story.
I’m sure there have been countless others, all as groan-inducing as a Jay Leno monologue. In the interest of improving the quality of topical Bunning-baseball humor, I whipped up a few jokes:
Government spending caused Jim Bunning to balk, allowing Harry Reid to advance to second base. Olympia Snowe’s breasts were not pleased.
Jim Bunning and Curt Schilling walk into a bar. They wouldn’t shut the fuck up and everyone left before they got to the punchline.
Jim Bunning treated the unemployed to some chin music this week, if you consider the sound of his wrinkly old balls slapping against poor people’s faces to be musical.
Pitchers and catchers reported a couple weeks ago, except for former pitcher Jim Bunning. He was busy eating out a Kentucky Tea Partier’s asshole.
It’s a shame I’m not on anyone’s fax list.
