Labor Day Toons

It's Labor Day weekend, so today's Graphical History Tour checks out what editorial cartoons were on the newsstands 100 Labor Days ago:

"Labor Day" by Fred O. Seibel in Richmond [VA] Times Dispatch, Sept. 6, 1926

Per Fred Seibel, it was a day for the working man to hang up his workday duds and step out in his best suit, pressed pants, and bow tie. Even his little dingbat (named either Jim Crow or Moses, depending whom you ask) gets all duded up for the holiday.

You might spy somebody sporting that kind of fashion sense this Labor Day, but I think novelty t-shirts and Bermuda shorts are as spiffy as most working guys get for their day off.

"His Day — Their Future" by Joe Tung (?) in Cleveland Press, Sept. 6, 1926

I had a little difficulty making out the signature on "His Day — Their Future." Joe Tung does not seem to be a regular cartoonist for the Cleveland Press editorial page.

These 1926 cartoons all overlook the women in the workforce. They were limited to certain professions: seamstresses, teachers, secretaries, nurses, and sales counter service, to name a few. In this cartoon, I suppose this lady is a housewife, but I doubt that the cartoonist or his editors thought of that as the sort of "labor" the holiday was about.

 The $700 million worth of labor-owned stocks in 1926 promised this idyllic cartoon family a bright future —for about three years.

"His Day of Rest" by William C. Morris for George Matthew Adams Service, ca. Sept. 6, 1926

Now, I realize that Gloria Steinem would not be born for another eight years, but did it not occur to anyone to suggest to William Morris that having twice as many Father's Days in a year as Mother's Days was grossly unequal?

"The Support of the Nation" by Orville P. Williams in New York Evening Graphic, ca. Sept. 6, 1926

Orville Williams enlists Uncle Sam in his tribute to the American Working Man.

"Straight Ahead" by Gustavo Bronstrup in San Francisco Chronicle, Sept. 6, 1926

While Gustavo Bronstrup channels Thomas the Tank Engine decades ahead of his time. 

"A Goodly Share" by Ed LeCocq in Des Moines Tribune, Sept. 6, 1926

Quite a few of the Labor Day cartoons in the Roaring '20's credited the Working Man for the nation's prosperity, and promised him a slice of the pie — or, in LeCocq's case, the watermelon — for his efforts.

"Labor Day" by Bill Donahey in Cleveland Plain Dealer, Sept. 6, 1926 

Bill Donahey makes much the same point, with the same setting, but without needing to label the food or the blanket. Or even to bring Uncle Sam along.

"Labor Day" by John T. McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, Sept. 6, 1926

I have not been able to find anything about that four-armed labor symbol in John McCutcheon's depiction of a Labor Day parade. Assuming McCutcheon didn't create the tetraskelion himself, whatever labor organization it may have represented most certainly replaced it once the swastika became inextricably linked to Nazi Germany.

In Google AI's opinion of this specific cartoon, "this political cartoon parodies the growing militarism, aggressive rhetoric, and intimidation tactics of the early Nazi movement in Weimar-era Germany by converting the geometric arms of the swastika into literal flexing muscles and punch-ready fists." 

I believe Google AI is way, way off, as evidenced by the gentleman in the foreground of the cartoon saying, "I can remember back before the days of unions, when I used to work for a dollar and a quarter a day. Now American labor is the envy of the world." Nothing at all points to a parody of the Nazi movement in Weimar-era Germany, and you can tell Google AI I said so.

Detail from "A Week in Cartoons" by Marvin P. "Hay" Bales in Daily Worker, Chicago, Sept. 4, 1926

Turning to the opposite end of the political spectrum: a Hay Bales cartoon in the Daily Worker, the only one of today's papers that did not publish on Labor Day, notes an explosion in a mine owned by the Clearfield Bituminous Coal Corporation the previous week. Of the 48 miners trapped by the collapse of the mine walls, only four survived.

It was just one of at least three fatal mining accidents in the United States that September. Sixteen men perished in an explosion near Tahona, Oklahoma one day after the Pennsylvania tragedy. Three miners were killed in a mine collapse outside Ironwood, Michigan three weeks later; 43 others survived after having been trapped for six days.

"Seven Years Old—and Growing Stronger" by O. "Zim" Zimmerman in Daily Worker, Chicago, Sept. 1, 1926 

The Daily Worker celebrated the seventh anniversary of the founding of the U.S. Communist Labor Party and Communist Party of America, which merged in 1920 to form the United Communist Party of America. Continued factionalism, plus federal prosecution of the party's criminal agitators, led to the creation in December of 1921 of the Workers Party of America as a parallel, legal communist organization (later the "Workers (Communist) Party.")

"Right—For Once" by Grover Page in Louisville Courier-Journal, Sept. 6, 1926

Grover Page's mainstream response to Zimmerman twists the words of Leon Trotsky, who had been shoved out of power by Communist Party General Secretary Josef Stalin but was still more familiar in the West than Stalin had yet become. 

There is a hasty, slapdash feeling to Page's cartoon — scribbled at the last moment on a paper napkin, perhaps? — but it's a wry, witty observation on the relationship of Americans and our cars.

With that, have a happy Labor Day weekend!

Q Toon: Exit Stage Right

Far-right provocateur Milo Yiannopoulos found himself the latest victim of the Leopards Eating Faces Party last month.

ICE arrested British-born Yiannopoulos at Louis Armstrong International Airport on Friday for overstayng his visa. Fellow fascist Laura Loomer is claiming credit for ratting Yiannopoulos out to the Feds; he was arriving in New Orleans for a concert by Kanye "Ye" West, with whom Yiannopoulos has been associated in recent years.

Identifying as gay in the '00's and ’10's, Yiannopoulos made a career out of being an offensive internet troll, insulting women and Muslims, and basically anyone to the left of Emperor Palpatine. As a columnist for Andrew Breitbart's website from 2014 to 2017, Yiannopoulos had been an early and vocal advocate for Donald Trump's 2016 presidential campaign, especially his anti-immigration plans. 

In February of 2017, he was forced out from Breitbart, cancelled at CPAC, and lost a book contract, after audio surfaced of him defending some sex between teens and adults as “perfectly consensual” and calling some teen-adult sexual interactions “coming-of-age relationships." Exactly the sort of "groomer" stuff conservatives have long used to vilify LGBTQ+ people.

Since then, he has decided that he is no longer gay, telling a Catholic anti-abortion website that he was "living as brothers" with his then husband. (To nobody's surprise, that marriage has not lasted.) In 2022, he signed up to be an intern for then Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene; he also got in on the ground floor of Kanye West/Yeezy/Ye's 2024 abortive presidential campaign.

According to the Department of Homeland Security, Yiannopoulos entered the U.S. legally in 2019 on a tourist visa, which he overstayed. A final order of removal was issued for him after he missed an immigration hearing in July. 

Yiannopoulos last summer tweeted of masturbating to videos of ICE raids, so it is impossible to muster any vestige of sympathy for the guy.

Besides, England agreed to take him back. It's not like ICE dumped him in South Shitholestan somewhere.

Deciding how to draw Mr. Yiannopoulos wasn't easy, by the way. The guy has changed his hairstyle more often than Cher, and has packed on the pounds and shed them back off. In most photos, he's wearing glasses or shades, which didn't seem appropriate for the setting of the cartoon. I opted for his signature 2017 look, but in what is either his passport or current mug shot, he appears to have quit bleaching or dying his hair, and sports a modest mustache with a modicum of jaw-line whiskers.

Has to be a mug shot. You have to can't have stuff in the background of a passport photo.

Another Week's Sneak Peek

At a funeral last Friday, I happened to sit next to a local Democratic candidate for the State Senate, Trevor Jung. He has been running a commercial on Milwaukee television that gives a subtle nod to the LGBTQ+ community.

He starts the ad by citing his grandmother's bar, What About Me?, using its name as an opening to invite voters to question whose priorities Madison politicians are concerned with. Many viewers might not remember What About Me?, which was one of two LGBTQ+ bars in Racine back when the acronym was a bit shorter.

What About Me?, on the outskirts of Racine's commercial district, had a reputation as a mostly lesbian hang-out, and Jo-Dee's, in a low-income neighborhood just south of the city limits, had a mostly male clientele. Neither was exclusively one or the other. 

Both are gone now, as are the women who owned and operated them; the building where What About Me? was has since been a breakfast diner, a bar and grill, and currently a Mexican restaurant. 

Jung is too young to have ordered a beer at his grandmother's bar. We had a pleasant conversation after the funeral service. I had to tell him that my Better Half and I don't live in his district, which extends into Milwaukee's southwest suburbs; but my dad does and is a sure vote in his favor.

The 21st district was overwhelmingly Republican 2011-2021; judging strictly on geography, I'd say it still leans that way. Map from Ballotpedia.org

His Republican opponent, Jim Croft, has also been advertising on TV; based on the ads, you would never know he's a Republican, but he has plenty of MAGA billionaire funding. Jung and Croft are running to succeed Republican Van Wangaard, who is retiring after three consecutive terms representing the district in its various iterations.

Well, a propos of none of that, here's this week's sneak peek:

Looking Up Lincoln's Inaugural Dress

Okay, friends: I've spent nearly a month searching for that reported Vanity Fair cartoon of  President-elect Abraham Lincoln borrowing wife Mary Todd's dress as a disguise. And I am hereby officially throwing in the towel.

Our story so far: during Lincoln's pre-inauguration train trip from Springfield, Illinois to Washington, D.C., his security detail headed by Allan Pinkerton reported learning of an assassination plot planned for his stop in Baltimore. 

This is supposed to be a Graphical History Tour, so let's let the cartoonists tell the story:

The Flight of Abraham," cartoonist unknown, in Harper's Weekly, March 9, 1861

It is helpful to understand that the United States didn't have so much a railroad system as it had a lot of disparate railroads that didn't necessarily connect to each other, or even use the same width rails. To get across the country, Lincoln had to get off one train at its station, and get a ride to a station elsewhere in town to get on the next train. One should also keep in mind that the Secret Service didn't yet exist; Pinkerton's agents, then as now, were a private firm.

But don’t ask me to explain that last panel. I got nothing about attacks of Ager or shadows or Lincoln turning into an Edward Sorel sketch.

"The New President of the United States: From a Fugitive Sketch" in Vanity Fair, March 9, 1861

The above cartoon probably represents Lincoln's actual disguise more closely than any other that I was able to find. 

Instead of the long military cloak, however, cartoonists liked to seize upon the tam-o-shanter to draw Lincoln in full Scottish garb.

"The MacLincoln Harrisburg Highland Fling," cartoonist unknown, in Vanity Fair, March 9, 1861 

The episode was first reported in the New York Times — a paper aligned with the Republican cause — and was a public relations disaster for the incoming president.

"What would the nation think of its President stealing into its capital like a thief in the night?" Lincoln had rightly asked as the operation began. The answer, as the covert trip was illuminated in the press, was, "He is a coward."

One newspaper, Baltimore's Sun, declared: "We do not believe the Presidency can ever be more degraded by any of his successors than it has by him, even before his inauguration." Editorial writers and cartoonists of the time had a field day with the rumors that Lincoln had worn a Scotch cap and long cloak as a disguise. The harangues and caricatures stung Lincoln, and he resolved to never again shy away from threats to his life, no matter how real or imminent they may be.

"Prof. Lincoln in His Great Feat of Balancing" by Henry L. Stephens in Vanity Fair, March 23, 1861 

Could this cartoon of Lincoln wearing a kilt have been mistaken by whomever first reported that elusive Lincoln-in-a-Dress cartoon? I cannot be certain. 

The on-line archives of Vanity Fair are likely sourced from bound volumes of the magazine that were sold to libraries and collectors at the time. The Vanity Fair volumes do not include the front cover of any issue, so I can't rule out the possibility that the Lincoln-in-a-Dress cartoon appeared there.

Or on some missing page. That four-panel cartoon at the top of this post originally appeared on page 160 of a volume of Harper's Weekly issues; pages 159 and 160 happen to be missing from the archive at the University of Michigan Library's website.

"Passage Through Baltimore" by Adalbert Volck in Confederate War Sketches, Baltimore MD, 1863

Mockery of President Lincoln over this escapade disappeared from pro-Union publications in the North once Civil War hostilities broke out in April, 1861, but was kept alive by such cartoonists as rebel sympathizer Adalbert Volck. Volck was a German immigrant and dentist in Baltimore who published a series of cartoon pamphlets for distribution in the Confederate states. Three volumes are known to have existed, but only one survived the war.

"Proposed Meeting of Ex-Presidents" by Henry L. Stephens in Vanity Fair, May 11, 1861

Well, I wanted to find you a cartoon of a 19th-Century president in a dress, and here's a Vanity Fair cartoon by H.L. Stephens of every living ex-president at the time. As far as I can tell, misgendering them added nothing to the point Stephens was trying to make, blaming them for decisions leading up to the Civil War.

Including the consistently anti-slavery Martin Van Buren might have been a little unfair. In 1848, the presidential nominees of the Democratic and Whig parties both favored extending slavery into some western territories seeking statehood. Anti-slavery Whigs and Democrats met in Buffalo, New York, joining the abolitionist Liberty Party to form the Free Soil Party, and Van Buren accepted their nomination as the Free Soil candidate for president.

Van Buren didn't get much support from Whig party exiles; the 10% of the vote he received in November came at the expense of Democratic candidate Lewis Cass and helped throw the election to slaveholder Zachary Taylor. Although many from the Free Soil Party later helped found the Republican Party, Van Buren rejoined the Democrats, supporting Franklin Pierce, James Buchanan, and Stephen Douglas in 1852, 1856, and 1860.

But to find a cartoon of Abraham Lincoln in a dress, I had to close the book on Vanity Fair and turn instead to the work of 20-year-old Thomas Nast in New York Illustrated News. It wasn't about Lincoln's Baltimore disguise per se, but it was published the same day as the first three cartoons in today's blog post.

With apologies for not being able to get that eagle into focus, here it is:

"President Lincoln's Inaugural" by Thomas Nast in New York Illustrated News, March 9, 1861

Could this have been the elusive cartoon I was looking for all along?

What's in a Name?

 Tariffic!

Q Toon: Trans Exit Hotline

We watch a lot of Ovation TV in our house, to the point where there are some program episodes we can identify within the first five seconds. My better half says he knows which commercials are going to be shown during which commercial break.

A commercial that seems to be replacing the one for buying gold offers a "hotline" to get people out of solar collector contracts, pretty much like those firms offering help getting out of timeshares. I didn't even know dissatisfaction with solar energy was a thing; when I tried googling for news about it, all that came up was a report that quoted only talk radio hosts.

So anyway, that was the inspiration for this week's Q Syndicate cartoon. Donald Commodus Trump made the weird boast in panel #1 during a campaign appearance over the weekend for Lindsey Graham's sister, Darline, in South Carolina. I've quoted him verbatim, except for adding the word transgender from earlier in his diatribe.

You can tell it's the way he talks, because I wouldn't have come up with that "Nobody ever heard about it" sentence myself. It's superfluous and doesn't quite make sense; it's just Trump again boasting his strange belief that his stable genius brain discerns all sorts of things no other human being is capable of ever having conceived before.

Now, I will concede that gender reassignment surgery isn't for everybody, so it is possible that a handful of people who thought it would solve all their problems come to realize that it didn't. It's up to them and their health care professionals to decide whether to pause, halt, or reverse their transition; no responsible physician would consult with the Absolutely Corrupt President of the United States for his Rx.

There is a reason, however, that nobody ever heard about the hospitals kowtowing to Trump's order to perform reverse transgender surgery — which, for the sake of brevity, I will hereinafter call "snart surgery." (Surely nobody has ever heard about it.)

Top snart surgery would be based on traditional breast augmentation/reduction procedures; I imagine that bottom snart surgery isn't absolutely impossible, either. I doubt, however, that it would be 100% effective, and I'm absolutely certain that even if Trump were able to order snart surgery done on you, neither he nor his Republican Congress are ever gonna foot the bill. 

This Week's Sneak Peek

There's a part in this week's cartoon for a shady medical person; I ruled out RFK Jr. and Dr. Oz because the cartoon didn't need to be about them specifically. I thought of The Simpsons' Dr. Nick, but I used him once before. No reason to keep using someone else's character.

Another possibility was to give the character the head of a duck — you know, because he's a quack, get it? Get it? Get it?

I settled for giving him vaguely duckbill lips.