Hello, Friends of Bizarro,
I hope you’re enjoying a relaxing holiday weekend, and that democracy is holding on.
The latest batch of comic art to cross my drawing board featured an extraterrestrial, a Greek god, the Queen of the Nile, the latest in automotive technology, and a character people rarely think about in the summertime.
Looking Ahead & Looking Back
I’m getting a jump on the Christmas rush with a Scrooge gag to be published in early September.
Our historical artifact is one of over 150 illustrations I did for Rhino Records in the early 2000s. In 2009 I included 44 of these portraits in an art show titled File Under: Pop and published a coloring book as the exhibit catalog. Each coloring book page is captioned with a fun fact about the musician(s).
Here’s a low-quality photo of a portion of the show:
Around 2005, Rhino had considered releasing a DEVO compact disc box set, and I mocked up a set of CD labels using my drawings. Alas, the set never happened.
According to the band’s official biography:
DEVO took its name from their concept of ‘de-evolution’ - the idea that instead of evolving, mankind has actually regressed, as evidenced by the dysfunction and herd mentality of American society.
That idea certainly still holds.
Also, here’s the McDonald’s toy in question:
Eagerly Anticipated Reading
I look forward to diving into David Toop’s new book, Two-Headed Doctor: Listening For Ghosts in Dr. Johns Gris-gris. According to the publisher:
Two-Headed Doctor is a forensic investigation into a single LP: Dr. John, the night tripper’s Gris-gris. Though released in 1968 to poor sales and a minimum of critical attention, Gris-gris has accumulated legendary status over subsequent decades for its strangeness, hybridity, and innovative production. It formed the launch pad for Dr. John’s image and lengthy career and the ghostly presence of its so-called voodoo atmosphere hovers over numerous cover versions, samples, and re-invocations. Despite the respect given to the record, its making is shrouded in mystery, misunderstandings, and false conclusions. The persona of Dr. John, loosely based on dubious literary accounts of a notorious voodooist and freed slave, a nineteenth-century New Orleans resident known as Doctor John, provided Malcolm “Mac” Rebennack with a lifelong mask through which to transform himself from session musician in order to construct a solo career.
Dr. John’s debut album is one of my favorites. I’ve listened to it hundreds of times, and the prospect of an in-depth exploration of its origins and recording by a writer like David Toop has me counting the days till its August 20th release.
The album’s closing track is one of the good doctor’s most beloved numbers.
Bizarro in the Wild
Benjamin Clark, a writer and a curator at the Charles Schulz Museum, shared this Bizarro panel from last year on BlueSky several days ago. I love seeing printed cartoons that have been saved and posted on bulletin boards, refrigerators, cubicle walls, and elsewhere. There’s something special about ink on newsprint. This is a particularly satisfying example, as the printing isn’t off-register and the panel hasn’t been squashed in either direction. Thanks to Benjamin for tagging me and to his local newspaper for doing a great job with their printed comics page.
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Your questions, comments, and pipe pics are always welcome.
Best wishes from your cartoonist,
Wayno
I'd always read the funnies first before hitting the hard news. At the time I had the San Francisco Chronicle and the Sacramento Bee, so I had lots of funnies.