I Virtually Do

Bizarro 07-30-16 Hdr

(Seek ye embiggenation? Click thine cursor upon an image.)Bizarro 07-31-16 WEB

Bizarro is brought to you today by The Controllers of Medicine.

I recently tried one of those virtual reality (VR) goggle devices that the inventors have come up with and it was––as advertised––almost like reality. And reality, as those of you who have suffered through the mind-numbing dullness of everyday life for as long as I have know, is highly overrated. But now, for the price of a handful of hallucinogens, you can strap a cell phone onto your face and watch any number of animations and videos that will make you believe (not really) that you are in a world other than where you actually are, if you believe the traditional narrative about “reality” in the first place.

I found the experience only mildly interesting, but it did give me the idea for this cartoon. I don’t know if a live-action VR event like the one above is yet possible but if not, it will be soon and people will have VR weddings and when the audience looks at the celebrants they’ll see an awesome warrior and a bunny princess being married by a bullfrog in a space suit or something. I’m looking forward to it being an improvement on traditional weddings, during which I always have to fight not to audibly scoff when the bride and groom promise to remain sexually faithful and in deep love with each other for the rest of their lives. Especially if they are under forty years old. But, as the saying goes, your first couple of marriages are the ones with the greatest learning opportunities.

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Now here’s a group that could benefit immensely from virtual reality goggles: voyeurs. Entire programs could be based on the peeping Tom concept and people could indulge in their hobby without infringing on the privacy of real people (again, assuming you believe in reality) or risking arrest. I’ve just been told this is already being done. Of course it is.

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One of my buddies who makes up half of the cartooning team known as Mustard and Boloney asked me why I spelled the lunchmeat in question the way I did. The answer is that I don’t know. I might have been having a mental episode of some kind. And why my editor didn’t change it is another point of puzzlement. These are the kinds of events that make me question reality in the first place.

The popular pink meat-like goo is named for the town of Bologna, Italy, (pronounced buh-lone-ya) but Americans had trouble not pronouncing the “G” like an American, so it morphed into buh-lone-ee and eventually lunchmeat companies changed the spelling to match the pronunciation. Presumably. I didn’t look this up, I’m just guessing, but I’ve found that if you do that with enough sincerity, people will believe you. (See Donald Trump’s presidential campaign.) So, since it’s a recently made-up word, there seems to be an anything-goes attitude toward the spelling. You can find it on the Interwebs spelled a number of different ways, including “poloney”. What?! Yes. I know. It’s like “busketti” being an accepted spelling of “spaghetti,” just because three-year-olds sometimes pronounce it that way.

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Here’s a cartoon I find delightful. I did’t have a specific haircut in mind when I drew this but it seems to me that very trendy haircuts are routinely things that would be ridiculed in another time. Okay, I did have a specific haircut in mind and it’s this one.  

I mean, it’s fine. Definitely not the stupidest hairstyle in human history (because this one is) but it just looks too much like a napping mammal for my taste.

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I love the simplicity of this UFO cartoon. This is a fully-realized version of my trademark Bizarro alien, the one who hides in the backgrounds and corners of many of my cartoons as one of my Secret Symbols. But that isn’t really his usual spaceship.


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My favorite thing about this cartoon is the relative size of the trophy head to the mosquito’s den. Of course, those of you with more highly developed senses of spatial relationships will notice the scale is not accurate; the mosquitoes are too large in comparison to the human head. But this is what we call artistic license. Note also that the pictures on the walls are various human body parts that mosquitoes find delicious.

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Since I started this blog post with a discussion of what “reality” is, let’s bookend it with this cartoon. Can a human being know things about a non-human animal (or another human) that they have not been told?  Psychics (pet and otherwise) and their customers (the human ones) believe they can. I am unconvinced. Which reality do you live in?

Thanks for reading this far, Jazz Pickles. If you enjoy my cartoons and commentary, please pass this link on to other smart people with a friendly recommendation. And please consider making a one-time donation or monthly contribution to my cartooning efforts since most people these days enjoy my hard work for free on the Internet. You’re the best!


King Duane

Bizarro 11-22-15 hdrWEB

(For an embiggenated view, click the vaccuum cleaner.)Bizarro 11-22-15 WEB

Bizarro is brought to you today by The History of Thanksgiving (USA)

My beloved Olive Oyl and I were discussing the current terrorism/refugee crisis and it occurred to us that what we really need right now is an alien invasion to unite the people of Earth against a common foe. Of course, substituting one set of problems for another isn’t a very good solution, but it would be nice (for once) to see people realizing that there are bigger issues in the universe than whether or not everyone else is praying to the same imaginary magic person in the sky as they are.

It wouldn’t work, of course. Inter-species squabbles would continue because the impulse to believe that ancient mythology is literal truth is somehow programmed into the human brain in a way that dissolves reason and logic in most people.  A recent poll showed that Americans would hypothetically vote for a presidential candidate from pretty much any race, lifestyle, or religion, except for atheists. In a world where religious fundamentalists are destroying everyone’s peace, does it make sense to refuse to allow someone who does not buy into that same shell game to lead us?

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I don’t know exactly what this guy has up his sleeve but I wish my name was “Fishwetter”.

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Not all dogs are telepathic but many are. I’ve lived with several. My current canine companion can implant even the most complex ideas into my head, just by staring at me. A couple of days ago I caught myself handing her the keys to my car because she wanted to go to the dog park. That’s all well and good, she’s a pretty good driver, but she had not remembered to bring a couple of poop bags with her and running around like a maniac with strangers always loosens her colon.
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When I look at the damage we relatively small, hairless mammals have caused on this planet I sometimes lament the arrival of the meteor that made it all possible. And now, a mere blink of the evolutionary eye later, we’re on the brink of self extinction. What an odd bunch of monkeys we are.

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Well, this cartoon is just weird and I don’t know what to say about it. I think I was just riffing on the graphic language of lines and how two characters might have completely different reasons for having vertical lines on their faces.

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This cartoon is about as sexually racy as syndicated newspaper cartoonists are allowed to get in the U.S.  For the most part, Americans are much more comfortable with violence than they are with sex, which is likely why we have such high rates of both gun-related violence and violence against women. I’ve not done any extensive research into this but I can’t help but feel that our empire-building and puritanical roots have something to do with these anomalies between us and other industrialized nations.

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Like most American homes back in the 70s, the one I grew up in had shag carpeting. To this day I cannot understand how people missed the fact that if you wanted to create a way to attract and trap filth of all kinds in your home and be certain your family would come into contact with it on a minute-to-minute basis, you could hardly do better than shag carpet. As though living with it in the house weren’t enough of a health hazard, we teens of the era would take disgusting, discarded shag carpeting from curbsides and trash bins and line our garage walls and ceilings with it to insulate our neighbors from the horrific music our rock bands were making therein. It is a testament to the human immune system that a large portion of the human race did not die of various carpet-borne diseases.

That’s it for this week, Jazz Pickles. I hope those of you in the U.S. have a safe and satisfactory holiday later this week, and those of you who are elsewhere have other nice things.