The Invisible Life of Poet #89 - Simple Pleasures

A strip written in mad desperation is still a great strip when I write it. Never before has a cartoon depicting sitting and looking and talking been so dynamic and relevant. I almost had an orgasm thinking about it right now. I can't imagine what will happen when you read it. Perhaps your balls/ovaries will simply explode from the excitement. If so, please send me a snapshot.

Simple Pleasures
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Blame the Children

When things go sour for Bush and the Republicans, they blame underlings and the downtrodden. They blamed Abu Ghraib on a few bad soldiers. They blamed bad Iraq intelligence on the CIA. The Katrina disaster was blamed on state and local officials. Cheney shot a guy in the face and blamed the victim for getting shot. They're now blaming economic problems on Mexican immigrants.

This turns out to be very effective policy, and has helped prevent the Bush administration from being impeached (although a few of them have been indicted.) It's the political equivalent of blaming the dog for eating your homework. If we hold accountable those who cannot defend themselves, we are released from the bonds of responsibility. Democrats and progressive associates must learn to utilize this strategy if they expect to increase their representation in governmental affairs.

But simply blaming those at the bottom of the chain of command may not be enough. Democrats and progressives must go further - way down to the bottom - and blame the children. No demographic, except for invalids and coma patients, are more defenseless than children. With some clever rhetoric and an open mindset, almost anything can be blamed on children.

• Children are illiterate? It's their fault for not studying harder. Ground them.
• You can't pay your bills? It's the children's fault for being born. Make them get a job.
• A terrorist blew up the Statue of Liberty? Some kid left the door unlocked. Throw his ass in jail.
• Iran is enriching uranium and will soon construct a nuclear weapon? My kids ate the treaty. They are traitors. Let's have a Congressional inquiry.
• The international diplomatic tendencies of realpolitik are gradually shifting from western democracies to dubious provisional regimes in South America and Asia? Dude, my kids were making too much noise. What was the question? SHUT THE HELL UP YOU LITTLE FUCKERS I'M ON THE PHONE!!!

The Invisible Life of Poet #88 - Rock Awesomeness

Today I need your help. This week's strip, for the first time ever, contains a special alternate punchline. First read this week's strip, then check out the alternate final frame. To pick your favorite ending, leave me a comment.

[Spoiler alert! Read the strip and the alt ending before you read on]
Many of you will clearly prefer the alternate punchline to the published one. I prefer the alternate as well. My reasoning for chosing the one I did to be printed is threefold: first, and most importantly, I wasn't entirely sure if my publishers would have wanted to print it. Second, teabagging is a very "in" joke right now, and I try not to be too trendy with my humor. The more general "genitals" will still be understandable to everyone twenty years from now. Third, while people aged 15-30 probably mostly know what teabagging is, most other people probably do not. (If you don't know what teabagging is, go here, or rent John Water's Pecker.)

I would like to know how you, the reader, feel about this situation. Is the teabag joke so powerful to the few that it overcomes the confusion and disgust of the rest? Will a college kid in 2026 know what teabagging is? Should I care?

This is your chance to be a part of The Invisible Life of Poet. The comments I receive here will surely determine which punchline goes into my first book (whenever that is.)

The Invisible Life of Poet #88

The Invisible Life of Poet #87 - 20 Years Later

Sometimes, you can tell I'm a genius. And sometimes, you can tell I'm a supergenius. Today, you get a glimpse of genius nonpareil. Roughly translated, that means supermega-ultragenius. I would SPIT on Stephen Hawking.

I adore this strip. It is the first I have ever done without words and I could not be happier with it. Sometimes good art says everything.

The Invisible Life of Poet

Quote of the Year

"The White House is not an intelligence-gathering agency..."

--Scott McClellan, White House press secretary, at a press briefing today.

Pimp My Middle Finger

Hummers are for pussies. They are driven by guys with massively tiny dicks who think they are pimping.

But if you have a huge cock, I mean tree-trunk huge, you need an International CXT. This is not a Chevy Suburban chasis with a Hum-Vee style body. This company makes actual military vehicles. How would you like to see THIS passing you on the freeway? The CXT comes pre-pimped for guys who do their pimping at a rate of 3.5 miles to the gallon.

Let's get real. We are pimping way too much in this country. We're already pimping our cars and and pimping our bikes and pimping our homes and some of us are pimping our dentures. Soon we'll be pimping buses, pimping snowplows, pimping yachts, pimping 747's, and pimping Canadian provinces. And no one will ever ask the crucial question: is it really possible to pimp Alberta any more than it already is? Given time, Monsanto will start pimping our corn. Starbucks will begin to pimp our coffee and Walmart will start pimping our slaves. We can't sit quietly as Donald Rumsfeld and Dick Cheney pimp their nukes. Before long, the manatee and the gray wolf will be pimped to extinction.

And unpimping things is not enough, in spite of Volkswagen's efforts to "unpimp the auto." Once something has been pimped, it's pimpness enters the global consciousness, and you cannot unpimp it. Pimping must be stopped before it starts.

We therefore must stop pimping our worldy possessions and start pimping the things that are really important. It's time to Pimp the Vote!

And most importantly, we need to step back and return pimping to it's humble origins: pimping our whores.

The Invisible Life of Poet #86 - El Rey de Mexico

Thanks to this strip, four years of Spanish and two trips to Central America have not gone to waste. This strip utilizes an old favorite joke of mine ("huevos") and was definitely fun to draw.

[Spoiler Alert!]
Robots, ninjas, pirates, and monkeys are all favorite subjects of contemporary hack humorists. These are the most overused subjects in humor, and while they have given us many great laughs, in general, they are used at the humorist's own peril. The punchline here hits all four in an attempt to end this problem. I'm sure it will not (I still sort of laugh about ninjas, after all.)

The translation:

1. Poet: I am the king of Mexico. I need to buy groceries.
Ben: Do you like eggs? They are very special.
2. Poet: Why are they special?
Ben: Because they are "Donkey Eggs."
3. Poet: Donkey eggs? That's disgusting! Now I will kill you!
Ben: Don't kill me! They are the eggs of Mr. Donkey!
4. Poet: Are they big and tasty?
Ben: Yes. The queen will love them.
5. Poet: May I touch your eggs?
Ben: Pervert! I will shoot your face off!
6. Poet: The famous assassin of the farm! He lives! That's bad!
Ben: Silence! On your knees, son of a whore!
7. Poet: What will happen to the Mexican empire?
Ben: Prepare to die, ugly dog.
8. Poet: HIYA! I am the karate champion!
Ben: Hey! [etc...]

The Invisible Life of Poet

Monday, April 3rd, 2006

American politicians are getting frustrated with the Iraqi parliament's inability to form a government and select a prime minister - which doesn't really mean much to an American. Nonetheless, the Bush administration is setting up an excellent exit strategy. It's called "We Tried, They Blew It." When the goverment fails to form, and the country explodes into large-scale civil war (as opposed to the small, quiet civil war that's already going on there) Bush can start yanking troops out piecemeal, saying "we tried, they blew it." It's commensurate with the Bush Blame the Victim Doctrine.

An upcoming article in the Waco Tribune-Herald (profiled at Rawstory.com) looks at how Bush's trips to his ranch-mansion in Crawford, Texas, have fallen in frequency. My question is, if we set up enough permanent protests in front of the White House, will Bush stay away from there, too?

God Hates Coral Reefs

What's the big schmeal about coral reefs? They're just big stupid rocks. Yet crazy environmentalists want to save them, as if they have value to anybody outside a few tax-and-spend tie-dyed coral-hugging scuba divers. Now there's this:

Caribbean Coral Suffers Record Death

Who knew stupid rocks could die? Besides, even if coral is "alive," it's not like you can take it home as a pet. It doesn't have big brown tender eyes and soft fur, and it doesn't make cute sounds like "meow meow purr purr" and junk. It just sits there in the cold, wet, filthy ocean doing nothing. BO-RING!

Even worse, coral typically changes its sex several times in it's lifespan! My children are stupid. How am I supposed to explain this to them? What if my son decides to "come out of the coral?" Coral reefs are orgies of sin and debauchery and deserve to go to Hell. Rocks should not be allowed to have sex. Coral does not love Christ (except possibly Coral growing in Baptismal water, but even that's sort of a grey area.) The Bible doesn't say anything about coral, especially transgender coral, and so it is clearly not part of God's plan.

What really matters is microscopic masses of undifferentiated human stem cells. The "ecosystem" depends on every one of them becoming a full-grown, Christ-loving human Christian. Babies are cuter than coral; therefore, they're more valuable to the world. Therefore, we can kill coral and it won't matter. I say good riddance. The less coral, the easier it is for me to force my children into the correct gender roles.