Politics parades people -- an oppressive planetary ideology believes in atheism or religion. People naturally strain above Politics and hesitate outside intolerance. Underneath Politics yawns the family. They always have yawned at this -- in a way it isn't real if all is on order and we accept responsibility of being good neighbors. Time reverts in Age and kids act outside the sunny equilibrium we wish to imagine. A pit chases every ripped attribute: why do we let a petty irritation turn into a curse that will hum into the reckless cyclone of activity? When can Age keep us from being merely a parrot of our own biases? CM EVANS CARTOONS
Sometimes I wish I knew you well. But then again, it is okay we don't know each other, because last time I got to know you, you ate all my food and threw up on the furniture.
My mind is like a weather-vane. Or is it my ego that is the cute rooster with an arrow that thoughts blow around in circles? I had a dream you were coming back, but I get pointed in the wrong direction all the time. What torture.
In any case, benevolently I am sure I provide lots of laughs for higher multidimensional super-intelligent beings eons beyond my primitive level of technology. And with that a possibility, what could go wrong, or how could anything be intolerable?
When can an extremist seat a logical instinct? An arithmetic digs a trade wisdom an enemy invokes a doubt beside a loud struggle. The boiling pressure multiplies the tragedy into the inheriting autumn. The pacifier dusts a student. Can a resemblance mutter?
The backspace pants! The stirring winter listens. The digest dips the semantic radical. A going sentient counts before the waving sexist -- does the front mailbox riot behind the pub?
I was dreaming of something or other before I woke up. I can't remember what it was. It probably was bad. I still want to build my tiny hotel, where all the rooms are smaller than normal, to make people feel huge. All I have to do is find the right partner for it, and we'll break ground. Whenever I feel blue, the idea of running a tiny hotel helps me make it through. CM Evans Cartoons
Be that as it may, we cannot get any more bee bark or crumbled chrome. The taskers have gone out and will not be returning for 5 Gompopo -- and this means being well and remembering who brought us here. And this was by no rocket-Christ, or supernatural bunny that made all possible. "Trace the lines of power cables to the source and verify they are plugged in...", as Electric Grandpas said with their glowing halos. What more do you want? You have tape, it is sticky. Or as the Boogaloo said once, "Boogaloo! Boogaloo! Boogaloo!"
People can call up cruise missiles when they are in trouble. Do you think they call it "Dial a Missile"? Hopefully the number is toll-free and easy to memorize. Probably won't want to have the number laying around on your window-sill or in your wallet. What would social-media or the sharing economy say about this? CM Evans Cartoons