Dream Job

Thanks to the invaluable Daily Gusto, I read something fun today. In my Relapse of the Hack Comic Slayer post last week, I mentioned Demetri Martin as someone who uses a guitar and is funny.

It turns out that he’s been writing a diary for Slate all week long. It’s very entertaining and well worth the read.

I figured this out earlier in the week when he was in a sketch about sketches on Conan, but for people who didn’t see it or can’t recognize people through stage beards, he’s a sketch writer for Late Night. He also proves what I’ve suspected for years; the sketches and the monologues are written by two entirely different staffs. That is comforting to know.

Sadly, he didn’t include a step by step guide on how to go from writing an unknown comic strip and begging for your paycheck every month to writing the jokes for the teevee and actually getting paid for it in a timely manner.

What’s New On Broadway

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First off, the Rosie O’Donnell line isn’t a lame gay joke. I am secure enough in my heterosexuality to tell you it’s a reference to her failed production, Taboo, which was either about or starring Boy George. I sincerely hope she’ll have more success as a retard.

This is probably too similar to the Pilot Season Preview cartoon I did just a few weeks ago. Oh well. I am not made out of infinitely funny triangles as Plato would have you believe.

Most of these are just premise gags that would probably work as MadTV or SNL sketches. Frankenstein in a corny Andrew Lloyd Weberesque musical. Combining CSI and Chicago. Combination premises are the bread and butter of mass produced comedy.

I’d like to point out here that CSI, in all of its incarnations, sucks balls. If TV forensic dramas could be equated with colas, CSI would be Pepsi to Law & Order’s Coke. It’s all flashy and way too sugary. And they have ideas that are as bad as Crystal Pepsi.

“Freshmaker Players?” Eh. I plead the fifth.

“Teens at War” is my attempt to make a funny version of Love Letters. I referenced the Lindsay Lohan/Hillary Duff feud to redeem my street cred with the kids. All this “Bush bashing boo-hooing” has left them feeling alienated. Fucking selfish kids.

“The Flim Flam Man” uses The Music Man to describe no one’s favorite Jordanian fugitive, Ahmad Chalabi. Keep in mind, I don’t think he tricked the geniuses at the Office of Special Plans into invading Iraq. They were going to anyway. He just kept feeding them what they wanted to hear and got a shitload of money in the process, like a one man Halliburton.

From the bajillion commercials on Air America, I know Tim Robbins’ Embedded has an act that takes place in the Office of Special Plans, the real name our civilian military leader dumbshits gave to their super-duper club. I haven’t seen the play, but I made a guess that his version wasn’t done in the ultra-corny style of the high school drama club staple. If it is, then sue me.

“The Navel Monologues” is my favorite in this week’s cartoon. I could easily make an entire cartoon mocking my self-reflexive peers. I think I could even turn it into a decent sketch. It’s not a jab at “The Vagina Monologues,” I’ve never seen it. It just uses the premise to describe what most creative efforts by twenty-somethings end up being anyway: A bunch of self-important garbage.

I’m not innocent either. In its earlier incarnations, this cartoon was all about me, until I realized I am lame. It’s much better to make the cartoon all about things I don’t like.

It’s been two weeks without a heavy-handed preachy political cartoon. I will remedy this immediately. I’ll be back after the weekend.

Sympathy for the Music Listeners

This is in regards to my previous post about how I was excited about this week’s Frontline, The Way the Music Died. Not only is it a bad idea to let your life become depraved to a point where the airing of a PBS newsmagazine is exciting, but the show itself wasn’t very good.

I don’t even follow the music business, and the show featured nothing new to me. It placed the blame for crappy music on the usual suspects: Clear Channel, record companies driven by quarterly profits instead of seeking out new talent, and the emphasis of style over substance promoted by MTV and virtually everywhere else.

To make the show even worse, it contained a fifteen minute infomercial for Velvet Revolver, the band who would’ve named themselves Spinal Tap if it wasn’t already taken. To Frontline’s credit, they did proceed to mention the ridiculousness of mashing together popular music from the past and trying to pass it off as something new and good. The worst crime of this segment was white guys in suits listening to CDs in an office while bobbing their heads. Every time a white guy does this, Satan pokes Elvis a litter harder with his devilish pitchfork. So stop it honkies!

There was also a fair bit of promotion for Sarah Hudson, niece and cousin to Goldie Hawn and Kate Hudson, respectively. Her single seemed kind of bland, but at least she wasn’t manufactured from things that were popular when I was 14. She’s ten times better and more attractive than any of the current crop of brain dead morons representing the ladies on MTV, so I’ll give her a pass and not mention that her music is reminiscent of Letters to Cleo at the prom in 10 Things I Hate About You.

While I don’t like David Crosby’s music or facial hair preferences, he was hilarious in mocking the execs who thought Velvet Revolver (Gasp! I accidentally typed Velvet Underground. My apologies to the undead ghost of Lou Reed) would be a good idea. Rolling Stone’s Toure and Outkast’s manager, whose name I have forgotten, also made excellent points. The one I remember being the notion that music sucks so much today because the companies are still going after the hit single, and not the whole album, which feeds the beast of file sharing.

I won’t blather on about file-sharing. I think both sides are kind of right. Stealing is wrong, but so is artificially inflating your prices. It’s the same thing as what’s going on with the pharmaceutical companies. They’re claiming to be the victims of people going to Canada for drugs, while at the same time using unfair business practices.

I support the decent bands who’ve made more than just one ear worm or two. Those of you with real jobs get paid, and your boss probably doesn’t even like you, and has no respect for what you do. I don’t see why the musicians, and other artists (including us lowly cartoonists) whose work you enjoy shouldn’t be compensated, unless it’s being used to drill advertising into your brain. If that’s the case, then screw em. Ads suck and make children fat. Skip the middle man and buy your entertainment directly from the people who produce it.

Don’t forget to support comics as well. I always make a point to buy comedy CDs of the comics I like when I can afford it. The good ones are more talented than any bass player and they probably have the same costly addictions.

The whole purpose to this long-winded, self-indulgent post is to point out that I drew a cartoon about the failing music industry a while back. Hopefully I mentioned enough of the words and stuff mentioned in the Frontline episode that anyone looking for more info will be misdirected to this uninformed screed. I am an ass.


This week’s Frontline is going to be all about how the music of the day sucks incredible ass. Yes, I am excited about this. I am a raging nerd. This is a welcome shift in Frontline programming because I don’t think I could handle one more special about the countless failures of the Bush Administration. I’d probably snap and hop on the next plane to Ireland, and start looking for long lost relatives to mooch off of.

“Why Ireland,” you ask? I watched an hour and half of C-SPAN2 this afternoon, and it was randomly featuring coverage of the Irish parliament, or Dail. People from many of their parties were fuming over Bush’s upcoming visit to the Emerald Isle June 25-26, for the US-EU summit.

They’re pissed for the same reasons as most Americans who read the papers: A blatantly fabricated pretext for a pre-emptive war, no post war plan, and the torture. What makes it exceptional is that their political leaders are all mentioning it. And any country that can have a party that openly calls itself the Progressive Democrats without being accused of Trotskyism is fine by me.

But the Micks also brought up another beef with Dubya that I never heard about. They’re pissed the Irish government went along with the Iraq debacle and lets the US military trample all over Shannon Airport on their way to shower Iraqis with love. It may seem pretty inconsequential, but imagine if the Israelis had to stop at O’Hare or JFK on their way to deliver a precision guided baby blaster to the Gaza strip. No way; even if you support the “Destroy the Village to Save It” policies of Sharon, the runway waiting is already long enough.

Irish groups are planning big protests, and they’re so pissed, some are denouncing Bush’s visit in Latin. I hope it goes well and makes more Americans realize how much the entire world hates our shitty president.

Just don’t let Bono show up. That guy is a douche.

Big Fat Zeitgeist

The Google Zeitgeist provides an intriguing sampling of what the public is searching for. Big Fat Whale and this blog are the dumping ground for every search string that begins with “Big Fat…” Here are some from just this month.

big fat turds
big fat ted kennedy
big fat funny
big fat bastards called david
big fat hefty bob
big fat gigantic bastards
big fat happy day
big fat bergers
big fat freaks
big fat black butt.com
big fat crotch
big fat ass whores
big fat sexy sex

and the obvious ones:
big fat whale
big fat whale comics
big fat whales
big fat blog

Other trends in the Big Fat Zeitgeist indicate that a lot of people love Lynndie England. They want videos of her, especially the naughty ones. One person was looking for “Lynndie England Poetry.” I’m not sure if it was for poetry written by her, which I’m sure would rival e e cummings, or poetry about how she heroically pointed at genitals in the line of duty.

Months ago, I was surprised by this search string, “how big is a whale poop?” I’m no longer surprised. It shows up every month. I wish I had the answer. The public demands it.

Narcissism Watch: My name is now the second most searched for term that gets people here. “whale cartoon” is the first. It also shows up in two stalker strings, ones that include my name and specific info about me, and one person was looking for “brian mcfadden cock.” I’m touched.

What’s Up With All the Swearing?

I was just re-reading a bunch of my old posts and I am shocked at what a filthy typist I am. I apologize. As much as I try to look like one, I am not a sailor, and shouldn’t try to talk like one.

It is a mystery. I suppose since I don’t use swear words in the comic strip, my sailor talk has found an outlet in the blog. Or it could be that my subconscious is compensating for all the fancy pants words I use. Every use of the word ‘gastroenterologist’ needs to be balanced with a ‘fuck,’ ‘shit’ or ‘piss’. It is nature’s way.

Relapse of the Hack Comic Slayer

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There’s not really any commentary that can go with this cartoon. I couldn’t come up with anything original and funny, so I used the Hack Comic Slayer again. Since Ruben Bolling reused Zan-tarr just a month after he was introduced, you should excuse a peon like myself for bringing a character back from the dead.

There’s no excuse for telling the same joke over and over again, but I think with each Hack Comic Slayer strip, at least the joke gets more polished. Or maybe I’m just trying to convince myself.

Whether I had ideas or not, I’d probably use this character until the end of time. I hate shitty stand-up comics and they make me cry. This premise is a clearing house for my hack comic rage.

Now you’re probably asking, “But who are you to belittle successful comics? You’re not even a stand-up comic. You’re a cartoonist! They’re lower than ventriloquists!” First, fuck you. And second, I am also a ventriloquist. (or was before I developed the proper levels of shame that keep normal people away from the profession)

I know I’m not the funniest baby in the dumpster at the prom, but you don’t have to be a gastroenterologist to recognize anal leakage. I love good jokes. When these shitty assholes pass themselves off as professional jokesters, it ruins my already bleak and depressing days.

Ethnic humor can be funny, when it’s not just talking in accents or “white people this, other people that.” Ethnic humor is especially funny when it’s about wops.

Dennis Miller hasn’t said a funny word since he became a shill, but I’ll admit that the cabbie joke is not his. It’s one of those old dumb jokes that might’ve been funny once upon a time, but it’s been beaten into the ground and mashed into an unfunny pulp.

I’m not denouncing everyone who uses guitars or music parody in their act. But when it’s the entire act and it just involves sticking randy punchlines into bland songs, that is hacky. Demetri Martin uses a guitar in part of his act, and I think he’s funny as hell.

Before any psychoanalysts out there mention that the Hack Comic Slayer might be a manifestation of my jealously, I’ll say this: No shit. I’m very full of myself and think I’m funnier than these shitheads, and I’m pissed that I’m not making anywhere near as much money as they are.

I believe this is the third time I’ve mentioned that Leno sucks in this comic strip. Bush can be voted out of office, but that asshole will be polluting my pre-Conan viewing until I’m well into my thirties.

Nobody Expects The Comics Inquisition

Dear Children,

Big Fat Whale is not a comic strip for you. Even though I don’t use swear words or draw titties, (in the comic strip, what I do in my private time is my own business) it is intended for mature audiences who can understand that I am a filthy pinko who should be ignored.

So please stop reading Big Fat Whale before it corrupts you. I cannot afford to give your reactionary parents $10,000.

Molestingly Yours,
Brian McFadden

However, I plan on using this shitty law to my advantage as a get rich quick scheme. I will adopt several Southeast Asian children and file suits on their behalf. Watch out the estate of Bill Keane. I find your saccharine bullshit to not meet the decency standards of my community of elitist snobs.

Puns Are Never Funny

I meant to point out this article from Atrios over the weekend, but drawing this week’s comic strip got in the way. He illustrates how the right wing unjoke of calling Massachusetts ‘Taxachusetts’ is not only lame, but inaccurate to boot.

For everyone who’s thinks of Kerry as some kind of pinko from the commie state of Massachusetts, this haven for leftist extremism has had nothing but republican governors since 1990. It should also be noted that Massachusetts based Raytheon has contributed to a significant portion of the collateral damage in Bush’s Freedom™ Crusade.

If that doesn’t convince you, don’t forget that we killed the foreigners Sacco and Vanzetti during the twenties’ equivalent of the War on Terror, the War on Anarchy.

So please America, don’t pick on Massachusetts for being progressive on occasion. Especially when California is a much better target. It’s the headquarters for the Liberal Jew-Run Media, and they treat their elections as nothing but jokes.