I can’t stand Kathy Griffin. And when I say I can’t stand her, I mean, I cannot stand her.
And if she had been the sole focus of the “Seinfeld” episode “The Cartoon,” I might not be able to watch it. OK, I’d still watch it, because it’s “Seinfeld” and the George-is-dating-a-she-Jerry think is hilarious (I will make an exception for “The Puerto Rican Day Parade,” though, because that one is just painfully unfunny. Don’t even get me started on it.). But thank God for the B-plot, in which Elaine cannot for the life of her make sense of a New Yorker cartoon (and is eventually given a chance to craft her own). That plot works so well because The New Yorker frequently features cartoons that aren’t nearly as clever as we’re apparently supposed to think they are.
That’s certainly the case with yesterday’s cartoon. I stared at it for a while, and then I stared at it some more this morning, and if I stare at it any more, I’m gonna get a headache:
Today’s Daily Cartoon, by Emily Bernstein. #NewYorkerCartoonshttps://t.co/tfve2krD3E pic.twitter.com/FKhVeDsCuu
— The New Yorker (@NewYorker) December 28, 2022
For Emily’s sake, I sincerely hope she didn’t put too much work into that. Because whatever work she did put in, it really wasn’t worth it.
People pay for this? LMAO
— Armed Guinea Pigs (@ArmedGuineaPigs) December 29, 2022
Suckers.
… what? https://t.co/LnwRE5ZEs0
— T. Becket Adams (@BecketAdams) December 28, 2022
What?
— Colonel P (@BaconOutlaw) December 28, 2022
That is the question.
So, we've got a new date now? pic.twitter.com/pvYDJALWw2
— MirCat (Parity) (@TRMirCat) December 28, 2022
Has AOC’s deadline for reversing climate change been solidified and nobody told us? And where do vinyl records and the USPS factor into it?
did the dad play the forbidden song backwards, destroying the world? did the mom misaddress her letter containing the nuclear codes?
is the lesson here "stop annoying your parents with your incessant questions or the world will catch on fire"?
— T. Becket Adams (@BecketAdams) December 28, 2022
See, that could work, at least.
still works. pic.twitter.com/o3nI0MkCJc
— T. Becket Adams (@BecketAdams) December 28, 2022
i've always said U.S. mail and vinyl records will kill us all. glad to see this is being recognized more and more.
— T. Becket Adams (@BecketAdams) December 28, 2022
Heh.
Well I'm sure this made sense to you, and let's face it: that's all you really care about. 🤷♂️
— Bob Jeffers (@bobjeffers559) December 28, 2022
OK, fair enough … but I still want to know what Emily Bernstein, and, by extension, The New Yorker, were trying to say here.
Elaine: "But, what is the comment?" pic.twitter.com/gbucYpUl0U
— The Bryan Madigan (@thebryanmadigan) December 28, 2022
“Cartoons are like gossamer, and one doesn’t dissect gossamer.”
Well, Emily Bernstein’s cartoon shouldn’t just be dissected; it should be ripped to shreds.
When you get the answers to these questions, will you retweet with an update? pic.twitter.com/9mcwX1pRE5
— 🃏👩🏻💻🤡🇺🇸🟥🔴 (@Allygeighter) December 28, 2022
Eh, I won’t hold my breath. Like the cartoon itself, there’s just no point.
✍️uh✍️oh✍️ pic.twitter.com/XJkxlneBxw
— The List (@ListComesForAll) December 28, 2022
Sad!
And what makes all this even sadder is that Emily Bernstein and The New Yorker could’ve saved themselves a lot of time and embarrassment if they’d just applied Iowahawk’s Law of New Yorker Cartoons:
— Ducky (@Duckue) December 28, 2022
In the future, all New Yorker cartoons should come with that caption. At least until the earth bursts into flames in 2042. After that it won’t matter, thank God.
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