70 years later and people are still fangirling over Zuko.
It’s 2089. all cops have been replaced by genetically modified dogs that let children pet them, help old ladies cross the street, chase down criminals, never eat donuts, bark at cat-callers, analyze dna, easily track down murders, pee on white collar criminals, and tear the faces off of rapists. utopia has been reached.
How was this accomplished you ask?
Well its simple
Dogs are colorblind
oh my god
add a panel about cheap wine, and this is literally what friendship with me is like.
If you’ve ever heard my rants about vaccination, you know it’s a major topic with me. Because hey, I’m one of these immunosuppressed people this comic talks about, so it’s a bit of a sensitive subject. (“Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t like getting vaccinated? I don’t like having three month long respiratory infections because you gave me the freaking flu, but I guess you don’t care about that”)
Essentially, Ellen and her wonderful character Katherine have just said it better than I ever could—and using Shaun of the Dead references, too!!! It’s all about herd immunity—getting vaccinated isn’t just about your own health, it’s about the health—and non-zombification—of the entire human race.
Sisterhood - Plz stick together ladies.
if you’re blue and you don’t know where to go to
why don’t you go where fashion sits
I apologize if this comes off as disrespectful to Michael Brown or Trayvon Martin. Or their families. Or YOU, the reader. I’m not about that. That’s not why I drew this.
I am just really freaked out that 40% of Americans (and 47% of White Americans) do not think that the killings and violence in Ferguson ‘raise any racial issues.’ Fellow White Persons, this is our chance to learn. This is our chance to change.
When Trayvon Martin was murdered because Full Grown Men in America are frightened to violence by the presence black children, the dialogue turned very quickly into a conversation about gun control.
And gun control is an issue that deserves our attention.
But it won’t change the massive poverty in Black America. The arrest rate. The education statistics. The institutional, systemic, casual, and passive racism that plagues our country.
And it wouldn’t have saved Michael Brown.
Anyway. I’m sorry if this comes off as disrespectful or insincere or preachy. I’m sorry if my execution (or personality) gets in the way of what I’m trying to say. I am an imperfect artist, an imperfect person, and I am, undoubtedly, blinded to a million things by my own glaring whiteness. So this might be… Lord, this might be awful. I’m so sorry if it’s awful. Really.
But. I just keep thinking… Look, my wife is pregnant with our first child. A boy. We’re nervous, we’re excited, we’re SO ANXIOUS because what the hell do you do with babies? WE don’t know. But if we were a black family… in this country… we would be so terrified. Because we live in a nation that murders the children of black parents, puts it on the news WITH RIOTS AND TEAR GAS as decoration, and still half of us don’t even see it as a problem. Can you imagine that? Can you imagine bringing a child into that reality, to face the odds we lay out for black kids?
That would break me. I’ve never known anything like that. No one should ever know anything like that.
So let’s talk to our friends about race. Lets talk to our families. And when actual victims of racism try to tell us what’s going on in, say, a peaceful community protest as they are being gassed and shot at by cops WE SHOULD LISTEN TO AND BELIEVE THEM. Let’s talk to each other about this until we are all on the same page.
And then let’s turn the damn page.
Being fat carries with it a lot of cultural baggage. At the same time, fat people, especially fat women, are supposed to pretend we don’t exist or that we’re not fat. I can’t count the number of times thin people have made reference to fat people or fatness in a negative or joking way in front of me, from the petite woman sitting next to me at the coffee shop complaining about fat people on airplanes, to my friends who routinely make jokes about their “inner fat kids” coming out when they eat a lot, to the women in my family who compete to see who can look the thinnest in family photos. Sometimes it feels like I’m not even there, or that I’m not supposed to be. - Lisa C. Knisely
well you asked