I’m at home alone: Luscious is out with the girls, Lord 16 and Lady Girlfriend are out at the movies. Really, it’s their fault.
Look, this is just piss-poor. There’s no excuse. They can’t all be great. or good. Or mediocre. Or… you know what, just pretend it’s a Garfield cartoon and we can all hate it together, okay?
“Tell me if this one is any clearer.”
One thing about teaching: being forced to a) teach film analysis to students who, for a variety of reasons, may have seen fewer than ten movies in their entire life, and b) choose films that conform to very strict rules regards purpose and rating, certainly results in watching movies you would never approach under any other circumstance.
Two cases in point.
First, the good: It was decided to teach our year eleven students horror movie this year, and the film that satisfied enough of the criteria to be chosen was the 2001 film The Others. I am about as far from a Nicole Kidman fan as it is possible to get — I find her cold, unconvincing, and so stagey I’m never unaware that she is dame-of-the-stage ahhhcting (a problem she shares with Judy Davis) — and yet, despite some shonky Kidmanesque moments (her pronunciation of ‘coh-TENS’ for ‘curtains’ raised a giggle every. damn. time.), the movie turned out to be an absolute masterpiece.
It was also, surprisingly, extremely teachable, even to a gaggle of boofhead boys who want nothing more than for this year to just shutup and go away so they can get on with the apprenticeships they’re just filling in time before taking up. Who’d have guessed? Not me.
On the flip side of the lottery, unfortunately, was case study two: the as bad as expected. In this case, Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle, a Disneybland assemblage of forced jokes, vapid life lessons, cliched everythings, and terminal eyerolls starring no fewer than four actors who make me want to run screaming from the cinema at even the mention of their names. The year eights I am teaching, of course, loved it, the treacherous little shits.
Ah, well. Can’t win them all.
So, two mixed movie quotes, and on the basis that the one for The Others pretty much chose itself, I’ve not remixed them with each other for once. In order of preference, The Others first:
And Jumanji: Welcome to the Executive Blandification.
I don’t know what happened when I scanned this piece, and I have absolutely no memory of what that last word should be!
Send your answers to “Past Lee Needs To Learn How to Fucking Crop Properly”, care of the email link somewhere on this website……
“Huh, whaddya know. Turns out it’s (illegible due to shitty cropping. Squirrels? Who the fuck knows?)”
Shit me sideways with a bargepole, how has it been 2 goddamn months since I posted?
Well, because things have been a combination of hectic, tough, and shite, that’s how.
There will be a post to follow on that ‘lil subject during the week, but in the meantime, we hied ourselves off to the local cinema last night, where we partook of our usual treat of a movie everyone else saw two months ago. In this case, The Suicide Squad, which I’m glad to report is exactly the movie I’ve been collecting over 24 graphic novels and umpteen years.
So, a Mixed Movie Quote to celebrate seeing the movie I desperately hoped it would be, and bonus points for hopefully helping to ruin memories of a movie that doesn’t deserve to crouch in the street offering to drink the contents of a spittoon for a few coins.
I drew this over twenty years ago.
My issue comes out next month.
“Apparently, we’re due to be the centrefold in next month’s issue of Debt Collector Monthly.”
Ayyyyyyyyyyyyyy, housewife jokes, amirite!
I can’t think of single excuse for this one. I was young, it was a different time, it doesn’t represent me as a person, etc etc and so forth.
Seriously, I was such a dumbass in my younger days.
“Does my femglax look big in this?”
Ghosts and ghouls and things that go bump in the night. Shove them into a domestic setting, and it’s automatically funny, and then you can make a really shit Thor film that people love for some reason and maybe also JoJo Rabbit.
Anyway, here’s a vampire one. I’ll have my Thor film, now.
“Call it intellectual curiosity if you like, Vlad, but I still say it’s sick.”
Medical stuff is funny. Fact. It’s probably something to do with our deep-seated psychological need to address our mortality without giving into the fear that the subject prompts within us. Or it might just be that squishy bits make us laugh.
Either way, it’s been at least 20 years since I scratched this out, and it still makes me snork.
“Something bit me!”
Take the framework of one subject, apply it to a second subject that is similar enough to be familiar but different enough to be risible. Comedy gold, amirite?
I beg to differ. Exhibit A:
“Tragedy strikes when Rona gets her yoga book mixed up with John’s furniture-making manual.”
Yeah, so when I was trying to work out whether or not I wanted to try for a career in cartooning, (Morgan Freeman voiceover: Naaaahhhhh.) I read that it was important to be able to work up a portfolio of subject-specific cartoons, to show that you can attract work across a wide spectrum of magazines. Sports. Sports is always a good one.
This is a sports cartoon. And that is all I have to say about that.
“It can happen to anyone.”
Okay, I admit it: I have absolutely no idea what that little figure at the top left is. It looks like a teaspoon playing the maracas while shooting a laser out of its eye, but that can’t be right… can it?
Hadrian’s back fence.
I don’t know what God’s reaction would be if a couple of religious loons knocked him up first thing on a Sunday morning wanting to talk about how the adult son he can’t get out of the bloody house and into a real job is some sort of superman figure with the power to forgive humanity all of the evils it should have known better than to pull in the first place… but I’m guessing ‘smite’ figures large in the calculations.
“I’m guessing you won’t need a copy of The Watchtower, then.”
I am aware, as many of my friends in population-dense centres suffer through yet another round of lockdowns, that living in Karratha has brought with it benefits of distance and isolation. In all the time that COVID-19 has ravaged the world we have seen, maybe, two cases enter our hospital’s isolation ward, and even news of them counts more as rumour and speculation than fact.
That said, let me be clear: if you are anti-vax, you’re a moron. If you are anti-COVID-vax, you are a fucking cretinous moron with chips.
Even in far-flung, isolated Karratha, Luscious and I have found the time. Between walking through the door and leaving it took us 17 minutes, and 15 of those was the rest period after.
It’s not about you. It’s about those you’ll harm if you don’t.
Get it done.
The parade of movies we have to introduce Lord 16 to before he leaves home doesn’t pause just because it’s the school holidays. Last night was Dogma, Kevin Smith’s funniest, most-professional, and best-made work from back when it was possible he might just remain an indie godling forever. In a film packed with quotes to lighten the heart of even the pickiest of quoters, this one stands out as the most deserving of elevation to a full life hack.
Okay, I have no idea what prompted this cartoon, but I can pretty much guarantee I drew it before I found out that chicken farms do almost exactly this.
Bloody oracle, me.
“You’re supposed to sex them by locating a tiny, almost invisible spur on the back of the leg, but I just work on the assumption that I’ve got to be right roughly 50% of the time.”
Tyrannosaurus Rexs are funny. Okay, maybe not if you’re a ceratopsian, or if you’re stuck in a jeep with Jeff Goldblum’s sweaty chest, but for illustration purposes, anything with a giant, oversized head and teensy, tiny little arms is downright hilarious.
Look at how many Donald Trump cartoons there have been over the last five years.
So, yeah. Teensy tiny arms + activity that requires using teensy tiny arms = 70% of every tee shirt on Redbubble and comedy gold.
Here is some comedy gold. Unwrap it and enjoy the chocolate.
“Aww, but Mummmm…”
“I said no. I don’t want you getting hurt.”
All I’m saying is, Madagascar came out in 2005. I must have sketched this out no later than 1999, because I’d pretty much abandoned all hope of cartooning in favour of concentrating on writing by then (and look how well that didn’t turn out…).
I’m owed at least a fiver, and my law firm — Madeup, Daydream, and Delusion — agrees.
Also, note: some words just automatically make things funnier. ‘Fling’ is one of those words. Try it. You’ll see.
“Of course I’m aware of the Jungian notion that physical rebellion is an extension of psychological unhappiness, but mostly I just like to fling poo.”
All fictions are created equal, but some are more equal than others.
The Bible is far more equal to far too many people. Animal Farm is not equal enough. Let’s put them together, and let one point out the absurdity of the other, shall we?
Let’s be honest, if the only reason Man sits above the animals is because God said so, and God just destroyed the entire world under a deluge because Man fucked up so badly, and you’re now one of only two of your entire race shoved into a cramped, smelly, leaking boat with every other carnivore on the planet, wouldn’t you begin asking a question or two?
“Father, one of the pigs just said ‘Four legs good, two legs bad’…”
For a build I’m definitely not doing because I’ve finished my Bricktober 2021 build and I. DO. NOT. NEED. ANOTHER. ONE……
it’s coming along quite nicely.
Transposing childhood games onto adult pursuits is part of the starter-for-ten pack when it comes to cartooning, comedy, fandom, the arts, and my Lego obsession. Shut up, you’re not my Mum.
So here I am, doing it again.
Also, proof that editing exists: witness the insertion of ‘court marshall’ to make the joke more explicit, and witness the fact that I’d have to edit it again in the final draft because some dickheads can’t tell the difference between ‘marshall’ and ‘martial’. Past Lee: what a dildo.
“What do you mean, court marshall(sic)? I got their flag. We won.”
ME: You’re about to move house, you’ve finished your #Bricktober2021 display, you certainly don’t need to be working on anything else to take down in October.
ME WITH DUROMINE INSOMNIA AT 11 O’CLOCK LAST NIGHT: ……
Or, as I’m now stuck teaching for the foreseeable future, perhaps it’s my adult nightmares. Either way, it’s the classic “turning up to school naked” dream made, uh, flesh, and let’s be honest, somebody better probably did it before me. Probably Bill Watterson. Yeah. Bet it was Watterson.
(Which is is good a time as any to remind you all that Thumbnail Thursday is a segment in which I upload old cartoons I sketched back in the days when I thought I might have a shot at being a cartoonist. We’re talking 25-odd years ago. Times change, tastes, change, and other people — actual actual cartoonists — have undoubtedly published the odd idea in the meantime off their own bat. Life happens.)
“It is not a dream, Mister Adams. It is also the third time this week.”
Got some glamour photography done this morning. I think it went well.