Ramblin' with Roger

Yes, I know it’s silly. I’ve watched pretty much every State of the Union for decades. I did decide to pass on last year’s festivities, however, fearing that it would upset my delicate sense of propriety. (Translated: I thought I would start swearing at the TV screen.) Then my wife says to me how I have a “responsibility to be an informed citizen.” Where did she GET such nonsense? Oh. From me, the old poli sci major. Hoist by my own petard. So, I didn’t watch, but the TV was on, and I got the gist, and was therefore suitably irritated.

I’ve watched the ad the Democrats ran that night. And I read the news accounts with the Democrats’ standing O re: Social Security, the headline about our jones for oil. I’ve read what Chianca had to say. I’ve seen Lefty’s comments, which make me feel that maybe it won’t be so bad. No one has encapsulated my frustration about what the man says (vs. what he actually does) better than Mark Evanier. Meanwhile, Eddie’s response is to post a picture that I also received, but chose not to post, for reasons of taste. Obviously, I’m not adverse to linking to it.

Speaking of snarky, someone sent me this:

Coincidence

This year, Groundhog Day and the State of the Union Address
fall very close together.

Consider this irony: One involves a meaningless ritual in which we look to a creature of little intelligence for prognostication.
The other involves a groundhog.

But my FAVORITE Presidential response appears on the pages of friend Fred (February 1). I think it’s OK to let that birthday thing go to your head a little. (Wait until next month for MY wretched excess.)

One national celebration is over, where my heart team beat my head team, they picked the correct MVP, and the ad I remember best, heaven help me, involved Burger king’s women as condiment- as bizarre as the old plastic face king himself. The most pleasantly surprising commercial for me was the Dove Self-Esteem Fund ad; not the usual Super Bowl fare.

Not only is Super Bowl Sunday deemed a national holiday, I just discovered that TODAY is a holiday as well. The National Association of Persons (NAP) has launched a website DADay.com to publicize the notion of the “Day After Day”.

From the site:

No more frantically searching through your list of tired old excuses to explain your absence from work. For an entire day off to recover from whatever ails you, just sign our online petition.

And they have some really good excuses.

Quoting AdAge:

Sure it’s a cheap publicity gimmick by White Castle, but a good cause is a good cause. Call your representative in Congress and tell them to quit it with the earmarks and get on some legislation that really matters.

I’m recovering not only from the Super Bowl, but a party for my five-year-old twin nieces, featuring 20 of their screaming friends, and a MidWinter’s party and beast slaying I’ve been attending for probably 17 out of the last 20 years. A Hoka-Hey to the Tribe.

Today is also Bob Marley’s birthday, coincidentally the day good friend Mark, a member of the tribe, is heading to Jamaica. A message to Mark and to you all here.

So, if your head happens to hit your desk at work, congrats! You’ve hit upon the need for this important new holiday, DADay.

Note: in the comic strip tradition all the words in the strip are in capitals, but for readability, I’ve deigned to write in standard English. Also the words that are in bold in the strip are in red in this text.

“Raisins”, a 4-page takeoff on “Peanuts”

Page l:
(A kid who looks like Charlie Brown makes one-handed catch off batter. Another kid and Snoopy in background. Ball hits glove: Boff!

Page 2, Panel 1:
(Kid catches sinking liner.) Ball hits glove: Biff!
Page 2, Panel 2:
(Kid leaves his feet to make another grab.) Ball hits glove: Waff!

Page 3, Panel 1:
Lucy in catcher’s gear walks to kid.
Kid: ?
Page 3, Panel 2:
Lucy (gear to the side) starts pulling off mask.
Kid: !

Page 4:

I tried not to show the punch lines in these tales, but this one pretty much required it.

Of course, this tackles the old (but ongoing) conversation about the supposed superior talents of black athletes. I think it’s funny because of Charlie Brown’s reputation as a less than stellar player, thus the juxtaposition is even sharper.

***

“Black Jack”, a 4 page response to “Prince Valiant”

Page 1

Page 2, Panel 1
Scene: Busy- with people on horses, wounded on the ground.
Narrative: The crows watcheth in perspirement as the Black Jack destroyeth 7 of the greatest swordsmen, 125 of the greatest lancers and 4 of the greatest stick-ball players on the block.
Page 2, Panel 2
Scene: Men in shock, or stabbed, or clubbed. Sweetpea (from “Popeye”) looking on in disbelief.
Narrative: Like one, the women throw flowers, their veils and lo, their very selves at the feet of the conquering hero – one, in fact, throweth her husband.

Page 3:
Scene: Montage of folks. Below that, graffiti: BJ +KA (within a heart); EC SJ; Gawain wears panty-hose
Narrative: “Sh!: sayeth a mighty count – “‘Tis the Black Jack!” A gasp graspeth the crowd, the word hitteth them like a blackjack!

Page 4:
Scene: About a dozen attractive women, and a drooling Olive Oyl(?!) from “Popeye” surround the hero. In the left of the picture, a man in a turban, with an N on it.
Narrative: As the most noble and beauteous women in the land carry the Black Jack off on their shoulders, the men feel crushedeth by the utter humiliation – It taketh the wise and noble, Noble the Wise to sayeth: “At least he isn’t Jewith.”
Next week, =Sammy Davith – the one-eyed Jack!”

What can I say? Dopey schtick “comedy” that probably wasn’t funny then.

***

“Big Eboner”, a 4 page response to “Li’l Abner”

Page 1:
Enober runs past two dull-looking yokels, with Daisy in hot pursuit.
Daisy: Ya-hoo!!

Page 2:

Page 3:
(You see the feet of the yokels, obviously knocked over by Daisy)
Daisy: Out o’ mah way! Yo’ is mahn, mahn, mahn!

Page 4:
With Daisy and Eboner in silhoutte in the background, she’s chasing with hearts over her head; yokels are sitting in a creek.
One yokel: Yo’ notice how them black @*O#*!# run after the blondest, most-beautifullest, white-skinned female they can find!!

So, that’s my question: in works of art, when does it matter that it is fact versus that it’s truth? Should James Frey be chastized because some of the facts aren’t accurate, if there is “truth” in A Million Little Pieces?
How about biopics? Surely, characters are blended, timelines altered. When does it matter? Some believe that Denzel Washington lost an Oscar for The Hurricane because of factual errors in the script. The basketball film Glory Road has been Disneyfied; the team didn’t get all of its black playerrs in one season, nor did Texas western win in coach Haskins’ first season, in my view, unnecessary distortions of the story.
For documentaries, does one stage events because they’re “emotionally true”, as I heard happened in Grizzly Man?
Historical biographies: one doesn’t know the real dialogue. I remember this distinctly from reading and especially watching Roots.