Weekly Cartoon Roundup

Another week enduring the firehose of craziness, from capitulating on tariffs to a constitutional crisis that will go absolutely nowhere.

I am not a sports guy. It’s one of those things, like pineapple on pizza or Coldplay that never did anything for me. So, my criticism of the Dodgers doesn’t come from a place of biased fandom or team allegiance, but rather the belief that no decent person should engage with or normalize fascists. Like, ever. And that includes teams invited to receive an award, even if it is standard practice to do so. These are not “standard” times when the President is musing about deporting citizens to concentration camps overseas and behaving like an unaccountable king.

John Roberts has never done a great job disguising his monarchy fetish, especially since granting Trump complete immunity, and with SCOTUS’ tacit approval of deporting legal residents who have committed no crime, his penchant for subservience has entered an even darker era. Rarely has someone done so much to ensure theirs is a legacy of cowardice and brutal indifference to democracy.

Given that Trumps’ understanding of tariffs rests somewhere in between his understanding of groceries and how government works, it should come as no surprise that he reversed gears at the last minute to pause the tariffs he claimed were vital for the economy he managed to demolish in the course of a few days. And even less surprising that a guy with six bankruptcies to his name - including a fucking CASINO - wouldn’t know what he’s doing.

It’s one thing for a lifelong liar to keep gaslighting the public, as that’s how they move through life and survive. But the rubes who fall for the schtick, who opt for unflinching fealty over common sense, those are the ones for whom I have no empathy or patience. I mean, can you imagine someone for whom the concept of groceries is an enigma being capable of “three-dimensional chess”, or whatever fake talent they’re ascribing to Trump? Of course not. A fascist is like the tooth fairy: he needs people to believe in him, or he disappears. So, my animus is directed at the believers.

That being said, there is a special place in spineless hell for politicians from the opposing party who do their part to enable this fascist administration. These four doormats voted with House Republicans to pass the SAVE Act, essentially a poll tax for women who changed their name due to marriage or other circumstances. After posting this drawing, there were quite a few “blue no matter who” types who sent me angry DMs saying that I was only helping Republicans by criticizing Dems. Spoiler alert: if someone votes in lockstep with fascists, they are a fascist.

As a lover of dogs, I apologize for using their imagery to replicate the devolution of a red-capped cultist. Certainly, the average canine is much more capable of nosing out and correctly identifying both bullshit and bad people. As such, they would never and could never be MAGA. Consider this my SNL apology for such an egregiously careless characterization.

Charmless Slenderman has been an actual terrorist his whole dumb life, so it’s no surprise that he’s made it his life’s mission to accuse people of the same. The only surprise is that he took a break from bathing in migrant blood long enough to draft a policy about it.

If the pipeline of Center-Left Comedian Refuses to Grow With the Times to Perpetually Triggered Rightwing Hack had a figurehead, it would be Bill Quisling-Maher. His recent trip to the White House for dinner with Trump showed that all Bill really cares about is his feelings and whether Trump would be nice to him, regardless of all the, you know, fashy Nazi stuff. As always, it’s fealty in exchange for flattery with these ineffectual stooges.

In another example of this administration’s blatant fetish for white supremacy, The National Park Service was forced to remove any mention of Harriet Tubman from the Underground Railroad website, something I’m sure would have really helped with price of eggs. While they appeared to quickly reinstate her (only after receiving immediate condemnation), the point is the attempt and the hope no one would notice the literal whitewashing of a history that so clearly makes them uncomfortable.

But also, what a weird move. Taking Harriet Tubman out of the Underground Railroad is like taking Da Vinci out of the Mona Lisa, or Tucker Carlson out of performative bowtie production: you can’t have one without the other.

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Album of the Week

Most people probably know Norma Tanega’s work from the use of her track “You’re Dead” in the opening credits of the tv show What We Do In The Shadows. Having not seen it, I can only applaud their producers for showcasing such an underappreciated gem of a songwriter and exposing her to a wider audience. Tanega, a true artistic polymath whose talents ranged from music to ceramics to painting, got her start in the early 60’s Greenwich Village folk scene, where she was an early advocate for ending the Vietnam war. Her first single, "Walkin' My Cat Named Dog" became an international hit and was the titular song of her debut album, released in 1966. Walkin’… is a breezy, beautiful collection of impeccable folk-pop songs featuring Tanega’s unique guitar playing and songwriting style, both of which deviated from her contemporaries with unusual time signatures and chord choices.

Tanega is often referred to only within the context of her 5-year relationship with Dusty Springfield, for whom Tanega wrote many songs featured on her (much more famous) partner’s albums. But this does a disservice to Norma, a master of melody and someone whose legacy is deserving of its own spotlight. Cannot recommend this one highly enough, especially for anyone with a love or appreciation for folk music.

It’s difficult to pick a favorite tune, so I’ll settle with the song that made me fall in love with this album, “Jubilation”.

Until the next batch,

jesse