December 2005 Archives
If they are speaking another language then they must be saying bad things about us
by Mr. Fish
December 30, 2005 10:12 PM
If they are speaking another language then they must be saying bad things about us
by Mr. Fish
December 30, 2005 10:07 PM
This is my very first cartoon, drawn when I was a teenager and not yet buying my own underwear, cheese or gasoline. Note the signing of my name with an old typewriter, an act of pretension meant to indicate to my audience that I should be taken more as a writer and a social philosopher than as a cartoonist. (I had no cartoonist heroes; still don't, bunch of hacks.) Also, I believe that the magic marker used to deliberately not fill in the lines of the Iranians' legs was inspired by the artwork on Billy Squier's second lp, an album whose influence we’re still feeling today as we bask triumphantly in the dull light of our own high functioning mediocrity. Anyway, the cartoon, if I remember correctly, is about Ronald Reagan's blatantly public gift of a Bible to the same Iranian government he was covertly selling weapons to.
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This is my very first cartoon, drawn when I was a teenager and not yet buying my own underwear, cheese or gasoline. Note the signing of my name with an old typewriter, an act of pretension meant to indicate to my audience that I should be taken more as a writer and a social philosopher than as a cartoonist. (I had no cartoonist heroes; still don't, bunch of hacks.) Also, I believe that the magic marker used to deliberately not fill in the lines of the Iranians' legs was inspired by the artwork on Billy Squier's second lp, an album whose influence we’re still feeling today as we bask triumphantly in the dull light of our own high functioning mediocrity. Anyway, the cartoon, if I remember correctly, is about Ronald Reagan's blatantly public gift of a Bible to the same Iranian government he was covertly selling weapons to.
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Michael Ramirez being fired from the Los Angeles Times was not what I had in mind when I said, no fewer than a trillion times over the last 8 years, "I wish they would fire that fucking douchbag idiot." Eliminating the job of staff cartoonist at any newspaper and replacing it with the work of freelancers diminishes the prestige, and therefore the importance, of the art significantly, sort of like eliminating the job of teacher and replacing it with a different substitute everyday: while the ability of both instructors in such a situation to instruct might not be markedly differently, the real human joy of engaging in a singular conversation for the spectator is lost. Knowledge, after all, is largely predicated on predictability and now that Ramirez is gone I'll have to go back to hating and blaming my parents for everything.
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Michael Ramirez being fired from the Los Angeles Times was not what I had in mind when I said, no fewer than a trillion times over the last 8 years, "I wish they would fire that fucking douchbag idiot." Eliminating the job of staff cartoonist at any newspaper and replacing it with the work of freelancers diminishes the prestige, and therefore the importance, of the art significantly, sort of like eliminating the job of teacher and replacing it with a different substitute everyday: while the ability of both instructors in such a situation to instruct might not be markedly differently, the real human joy of engaging in a singular conversation for the spectator is lost. Knowledge, after all, is largely predicated on predictability and now that Ramirez is gone I'll have to go back to hating and blaming my parents for everything.
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Before I realized that what I did would never appear in a mainstream magazine or newspaper, I used to submit my crap continuously to The New Yorker. When they never responded to any of my submissions, I finally sent them a cartoon specifically designed to reflect what I came to recognize as the unspoken mission statement of the magazine. It's twelve years later and I still haven't heard from them.
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Before I realized that what I did would never appear in a mainstream magazine or newspaper, I used to submit my crap continuously to The New Yorker. When they never responded to any of my submissions, I finally sent them a cartoon specifically designed to reflect what I came to recognize as the unspoken mission statement of the magazine. It's twelve years later and I still haven't heard from them.
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These are 5 cartoons from 2005 that no publisher would touch with a stick, and while some might appear dated, I hope they still have the power to offend and delight and offend again.
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These are 5 cartoons from 2005 that no publisher would touch with a stick, and while some might appear dated, I hope they still have the power to offend and delight and offend again.
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