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Gone, But Not Forgetting
I'm a long way from my drawing board right now, but politics is somehow moving on without my cartoons. The issues are ripe and bursting with juicy irony, and I am experiencing withdrawals from being unable to satirize them.

Among the scenery moving around in my head:

1. Drump unhinged. He looked positively incandescent in that oval office meeting with the Rooskis. Like a navel orange on fire. His teeth seemed to glow neon blue, and his face bespoke a strange, overamped goofiness. Was he coked up again? His lips, we know, were especially loose.

2. The Republicans. They continue to exhibit the perfect antitheses of all the noble qualities that they claim exclusively for themselves: patriotic, strong on defense, tough on Russia, fiscally responsible, honorable in the extreme. No, no, no, no, and no. They've managed to give craveness a bad name. I am so tired of using the nice old elephant as a symbol for these turkeys. If only I could replace it with something more appropriate. A weasel, say, or a leech. Cane toad? Moray eel? Maggot?

3. The Dems. United for once, mostly, but too worshipful of the elites. Joe blow is still out there looking for someone who really cares. Could I make them a gelded Arabian stallion instead of a donkey? Or maybe a unicorn?

4. The rest of the world. They're pretty busy with their own control freaks, but I'll bet they're still gobsmacked that we could follow up our salad nicoise a la Obama with a crap crepe.

5. The planet. Tick, tick, tick. Just like Drump, only slower.

6. Truth. Not that hard to find, really. Your daily newspaper does a pretty good job. Oh, wait a minute, it disappeared. My #1 rule: don't believe anything that comes out of Drump's mouth. Unless it's a precious national secret, that is.

Okay, I'm feeling better about my cartooning now. The republic, though, not so much.
Fated
Tiled faces
Gazing west
Over the jacarandas
Beyond the boats
To the wide
Dark sea

Longing
Caught between
Loss and hope
Is that a distant sail?
DeGama
Returning
At last
With spice
And new dominion?

Or only
The ghost
Of a different fate
That we will
Never see
Or know?
When the Worm Turns
I would offer this blog as a clarion call to arms, but I know that I would be ignored. Besides, I don’t even own a clarion.

My call would be ignored because the object of my concern is being heralded as a godsend solution to one of humanity’s greatest problems: too much plastic. Plastic is more than a nuisance; its proliferation is seen as a threat to all that is natural and good in the world. As anyone who has visited the Gyre recently can tell you, that swirling, Texas-sized mass of plastic waste in the middle of the Pacific is now approaching Alaskan dimensions. It’s scary.

Reliable sources are breathlessly reporting that we might be saved from this tide of man-made garbage by a wondrous little creature that just loves the taste of good polyethylene: galleria mellonella, known to its friends as the parasitic waxworm.

Not the most endearing of names, perhaps, but who cares if it will gobble up the Gyre, shrink the local landfill, and bring plastic bags back to our grocery stores? And if you think of the parasitic waxworm as a cute little caterpillar which matures into the lovely-sounding galleria mellonella moth, it doesn’t sound quite so menacing.

Still, you might want to consider this question: what happens when all the plastic is gone? We will have gone down the path of fostering a massive breeding program of these parasites in the name of the environment. Fine. But these worms (or cuddly caterpillars, if you wish) are in plain truth repulsive, death-white caricatures of bug-ugliness, and they will be everywhere. Imagine, if you will, a world writhing and waist-deep in larvae, consuming everything in their path. The ranks of the mellonella moths (which are not nearly so pretty as their name) will have swollen enormously as well, perhaps into the many trillions. Their flutterings could well fill the skies and black out the sun as they seek out new sources of plastic and anything else they can lay their mandibles on. When they’re not laying eggs, that is.

Now, I don’t want to scare anyone. Everything will probably turn out for the best. Check the labels on all your clothing, though. If these things ever get started on that Patagonia fleece shell you’re wearing, they may not know when to stop. As I have said, however, it is unlikely that you will ever actually be devoured by a surging mass of polyethylene-crazed parasitic waxworms. The odds are very low of that happening, at any rate. 50-50 tops.

To be on the safe side, though, I’d advise you to keep that clarion handy. Not that it will be much help if all humanity has been wiped out by the parasitic waxworms.
Unauthorized
I’ve been engaging in a political thought experiment recently. My findings are still incomplete, but I thought I’d reach out for some peer review before I get too far into this thing.

The experiment deals with the “authoritarian mind.” You may have read about this idea over the last year; it’s gotten a lot of attention as a part of the many tortured attempts to explain the rise of Drump within a free, enlightened society. The term authoritarian here does not refer control freakish behavior of authoritarians themselves, but rather to the willingness of their followers to submit to such behavior.

The authoritarian mind is evidenced by a desire to be told what to think and do and a willingness to cede all personal responsibility to a strong leader. “I’ll take care of everything,” says the leader. The follower, seizing his chance to be let off the hook, replies “You’ve got my vote. Do whatever you have to!” — and the authoritarian relationship is officially established.

These relationships occur outside of politics, of course. Religion uses them to great effect. Most scams, both large and small, depend on the mark’s eagerness to give up personal control of their life or money and hand it over to someone who will promise to make everything better.

So here is my experiment: what would our world be like if all of these authoritarian minded people disappeared? Never mind why or how. If it makes you feel more comfortable, perhaps they’ve all been transported to heaven in the Rapture. Whatever. They’re gone — maybe 40% of humanity — and only those people who are willing (most of the time) to confront facts are left behind. Since you haven’t stopped reading this out of disgust, that group includes you, me, and everyone who tries to lead an evidence-based life.

Would the world be a better place without authoritarians? Would there be peace? Would reason finally triumph? Would the Age of Aquarius dawn at last?

Or would some fundamental element of humanity be lost? Would civilization stall and finally crumble to dust without the participation of true believers? Can our species survive without a blind faith that is impervious to facts? Who is to say that, with these people gone, some of us wouldn’t rush to fill the void of credulity and obedience? Movements need such people. So do armies. Maybe, as a species, we all do.

I prefer to think not. I prefer to think that an evidence-based life will lead me toward meaning and understanding and happiness. If I can maintain vigilance that is. I know that we all have an authoritarian inside us, urging us to give in to promises of simplicity and certainty. Who wouldn’t daydream of finding an easy way out of the daily drudgery of figuring out what to do in life? That drudgery can be a total pain.

Or maybe I’m wrong. Maybe, to be truly human, we must be gullible. Happy sheep waiting to be fleeced by the Controlling Class. Ba-a-a?

I don't think so. For me, the correct answer is “Bah!” That blissful certitude sounds even worse than the total pain option. Even though there will be lapses into gullibility, at least there’s the hope that I’ll snap out of it. I’m voting for endless doubt over contented ignorance.

I guess I’ll just have to miss out on the Rapture.
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No "new normal" for me, this shit ain't normal.
~ MS, Truckee