Up a Tree Sorta
Greetings, beloved Jazz Pickles and other readers of words.
If you’re reading these words, it means that I was able to put them here and you were able to find them. But if I lost my access to the Internet, where would you find my cartoons or commentary?
You may be able to find my comics in a newspaper, but if your town’s newspaper doesn’t print Bizarro (or your town doesn’t have a paper anymore), you’re out of luck there, too. And even if you do find Bizarro in your local rag, what if you’re one of the estimated dozen-or-so people who really enjoy my weekly commentary here? You’re not going to find that anywhere else.
My point, of course, is that without the Internet, my career virtually vanishes overnight. Bizarro cartoons may still be floating around but it wouldn’t be my daily interaction with my readers and no effective way to sell books or swag or whathaveyou. And this is not only true for me, but for millions of other people and businesses of all sorts. Without the Internet, hundreds of millions of careers evaporate instantly.
I’m thinking this way because my Dan Piraro Bizarro Comics FB page was hacked a bit over a week ago and I was removed as administrator. Suddenly, I could view my page and leave comments just as you might, but I could not post on it. I was completely shut out of controlling it or creating new content.
I searched and clicked for two days trying to find which of the probably thousands of Facebook pages I could use to report the problem but ran into dead end after dead end. I finally found a form I could fill out to describe the problem and received a reply the next day that basically said, this isn’t the correct department for that. Please go here…(link). And golly gee willakers, you’ll never guess what happened when I clicked that link! Oh, this is a real knee-slapper so get ready for it! The page doesn’t exist. And the link is in a no-reply email, so…?
As I stumbled clumsily through the Internet like a drunken Luddite trying to figure this out, two of the smartest younger people I know—my daughter and my niece, who each know Facebook better than they wish they did or I ever will (thank God! )—generously were searching FB for answers, too, and each independently found a piece of the puzzle that eventually unlocked my page and gave me admin privileges again. Phew!
So you see how close I came to losing my career. Unfortunate as it is if I disappear from FB (and IG, Twitter) I effectively don’t exist in the modern marketplace. The same is true for most people these days, in fact. Like it or not, these companies have become necessary public utilities and lynchpins of our shared economy. As such, they should be forced to be more responsible for their service. There is literally no way to contact someone at Facebook if your career disappears; only endless rabbit holes of articles to read to try to solve your own problem or forms to fill out that go nowhere. Are we to believe that Zuckerberg can’t afford to have a live tech support department? He could fund it from what he carries in his wallet. (And I’m not going to mention how he behaves politically. That’s another topic of encyclopedic length.)
And, just for a final chuckle from the Karma Komedy Klub, whoever did this to me then somehow ordered my PayPal account to pay $1000 for Facebook ads that I did not order, want or receive. Paypal rejected my refund request because from their end it looked completely legit. This was told to me in a no-reply email, of course, so there was no appeal process. My only option then was to get the money back from FB—if they ever had it—, but we know that petitioning FB about anything is like trying to get your cat to answer the door for you while you’re in the shower.
Still, I tried anyway but several dead-end searches and online forms later, I gave up. I’m pretty convinced that they make it difficult precisely so you won’t bother. Which I won’t. $1000 isn’t chicken feed to me but it isn’t worth more than two days of my life, either.
I changed passwords, instigated two-step verification, turned on DNA collection and comparison requirement, all that. I hope it doesn’t keep happening or I’ll just leave FB for good. (Which I’d LOVE to do but…see above.)
We don’t get to sign up for the kind of world we want to live in but if we did, I would not opt for the one in which every new convenience is accompanied by three brand new inconveniences.
Now let’s put the meaningless nonsense of human society aside for a few moments and enjoy something truly important, a chuckle or two! Here are Wayno’s Bizarro cartoons from the week…
I’ve never known a bedsheet that could play a card game any more complex than Go Fish.
Let me guess: Your pipe was empty and he’s a weed dealer?
For my younger readers, toxic psychos have not always been allowed to use mass media to spread their poison. Not so very long ago, they just shouted from street corners like the maniacs they were.
The American Clown Federation has announced its preferences for a couple of terms referring to clowns:
“Clowns” will now be called “the voluntarily creepy,” and those voluntarily creepy who have “big feet” will now be referred to as “shoe-size abundant”.
I love this gag so much. I also love that Wayno has begun to post a “pipe of the week” image on his site and though they’ve all been fun & funky, I think today’s is particularly cool. See Wayno’s weekly cartoon blog post here.
This guy is one award short of an OBEP. (Oscar, Bunny, Eyeball, Pipe)
We’ve enjoyed having you along today on our cartoon voyage across the sea of comedy, Jazz Pickles. Thanks for leaning overboard with us to puke. If you’ve enjoyed our work and appreciate the lack of ads, maybe toss us a buck via one of the links below. We’ll be all cute and giggly about it if you do.
Till next time, keep your pickles jazzy and your mind wide open.
BIZARRO SHOP We have new stuff in the shop that’s fun and cheap!
…Signed, numbered, limited edition prints and original Bizarro panels