Had a great time at the Cartoon Art Museum in SF and at the Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa. Thanks to both places for hosting the events. Particular thanks to Jeannie Schulz for her hospitality, and to John Law for bringing out the dog.
San Francisco, here I come
THE WORLD OF TOMORROW: AN EVENING WITH TOM TOMORROW
Tue/11, 7-9pm, $5
Cartoon Art Museum
655 Mission, SF
March 15, 2pm, free with admission ($5-$10)
Charles M. Schulz Museum
2301 Hardies, Santa Rosa
(Note the Schulz Museum show is at 2 — not 3, as I think I said somewhere earlier.)
A little interview with the San Francisco Bay Guardian about the upcoming trip, here.
And: sneak peek of *extremely* limited signed/numbered print for Cartoon Art show (and Schulz Museum, if there are any left).
Reality outpacing satire in real time
This is part of a cartoon I was writing today, in which a right wing nutjob character blames the Ukraine crisis on Benghazi:
And then Lindsey Graham tweeted this:
This cartoon wasn’t hugely popular when it first ran in January, but it sure holds up well.
Seems like a good time…
… to repost this one, given all the outraged howls the new cartoon has engendered.
New toon
Also: don’t know how I missed it, but my friend Jen Sorensen had a “talking gun/hypnotized owner” panel a couple of months ago. Sorry Jen!
…this is what I wrote about this toon for Sparky’s List subscribers:
A rather grim cartoon this week, obviously inspired by the Jordan Davis case. I was rolling that one around in my mind, and the thing I kept coming up with was: no gun, no problem. Without a gun in his glove box, Michael Dunn is just another asshole who fumes quietly to himself, and Jordan Davis doesn’t have his life cut off before it’s barely begun. And everybody gets whatever they came to the Quicky-Mart to buy, and an hour later nobody ever gives any of it another thought.
And then this image, this idea jumped into my head — the old Twilight Zone episodes, in which some totemic object would speak to the main character and drive him slowly insane — the ventroliquist’s dummy, or that fortune telling devil on the diner table.
And this is where I ended up.