My friend Marky Mae Brown and I have known each other a long time. On a recent trip to Brooklyn, Marky Mae dug up these old cartoons we created when we were mere twentysomethings, killing time at the daily newspaper where we worked as copy boys.
Marky Mae drew the pics and I wrote the quips. Here are two from a larger series:
We cracked up when we looked at them again. I keep trying to get Marky Mae to do a book-length series with me, but he doesn’t see their marketability.
But, seriously, wouldn’t you buy a book of these? Wouldn’t you?
Yesterday I found this old Roz Chast book of comics at the Cleveland Park branch library book sale for just 10 cents! 10 cents!
Remember: Roz will be giving a talk about fellow New Yorker cartoonist Charles Addams April 26 here in D.C. as part of the Smithsonian American Arts Museum’s “American Pictures Distinguished Lecture Series.”
Who’s going? I’ll be there.
I almost don’t want to blog about this — come on, like anyone in this city reads this blog? — because I intend to get there early for the very best seat. But: indie film maker John Waters will be stopping by the Smithsonian’s American Arts Museum at 4:30 p.m. this Saturday to give a lil’ lecture on modernist painter Cy Twombly’s work “Letter of Resignation” (1967).
The talk kicks off the museum’s joint series with the National Portrait Gallery called “American Pictures Distinguished Lecture Series,” which pairs great works of art with pre-eminent figures of contemporary American culture.
Other discussions in the series include:
April 11: Novelist Jamaica Kincaid discusses Edward Lamson Henry‘s painting “Kept In” (1889).
April 18: Scholar Harold Holzer discusses John Henry Brown’s portrait of Abraham Lincoln (1860).
And the other one I’m most ecstatic about:
April 26: Cartoonist Roz Chast discusses Charles Addams’s famously gruesome cartoon “Boiling Oil” (1946).
Here’s more info.
Which lectures will/would you attend?
“People now don’t have any concept that there was ever a culture outside of this thing that was created to make money. Whatever is the biggest, latest thing, they’re into it. You get disgusted after a while at humanity.”
And he said that before boy bands, reality TV, and iPhones.
If you were a little kid in the early 1980s, you came home from school and watched the afternoon cartoon Battle of the Planets on TBS. The cartoon was an English version of the Japanese classic Gatchaman, in which five weirdly-costumed adolescent superheroes called G-Force battle in space to save the world.
I guess Battle of the Planets was not a faithful enough adaption of the original Japanese cartoon because it was eventually phased out and replaced by G-Force: Guardians of Space. I never saw this show because by that point, I was a full-on teenager and too busy listening to Jane’s Addiction and smoking Marlboro Lights.
So now it’s time for G-Force, Hollywood’s “live” version of the cartoon, to make its way to the silver screen. Take a look at the trailer:
Wow. That sucks. It looks like every other cheesy Disney live version flick. What’s with the Pussycat Dolls tune? The Pimp My Ride reference? And where did the guinea pig come from?
This looks worse than the Speed Racer remake. Congrats, Disney! You’ve
ruined another of our childhood memories.
I always thought the comic Marmaduke was really stupid.
I think the main thing I never liked about Marmaduke was the dog himself. He didn’t have a personality. He was just big and dumb. Garfield sucked, too, but at least the cat was sarcastic and amused by the human folly around him. The Marmaduke strip is about the humans, how they feel about the dog. Who cares?
I am not alone. If you want a fresh, new, cynical interpretation of all the Marmaduke classics, consult Marmaduke Explained. (Hint: the older entries are much funnier than the latest). Here is an example:
“Marmaduke hasn’t terrorized his fat elderly neighbor in a fortnight. This warrants a friendly visit from the curious egg-shaped gentleman, smartly dressed in a dapper pork pie hat/vest/slacks/old man sneakers combo.”
Some explanations are obvious, like this one, and some are wickedly funny in a pseudo philosophical way. I can’t tell you how relieved I am to find this comic strip, which puzzled me so in my youth, is actually rife with subtle meaning.