Showing posts with label Philadelphia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Philadelphia. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 16, 2024

Toon: Town Hall Do-Si-Don't

We interrupt today's regularly scheduled cartoon for this important breaking cartoon:

In case you missed it, Donald Disco Trump had a Town Hall rally in Philadelphia the other night, fielding pre-screened questions from the pre-screened audience, when, a couple of questions in, two members of the audience fainted.

Trump stopped taking questions, which is perfectly reasonable, and asked the backstage staff to play some music.

As a church organist, I've had to wing some music because somebody in the back pews has collapsed. I fainted in church once myself a very long time ago (fortunately, not as the organist). I've been in the congregation when a woman suffered a heart attack.

On those occasions, the worship service was interrupted, but not for long. In the case of the woman having a heart attack, the EMTs arrived soon and got her to the hospital as quickly as possible.

For reasons that defy logic, Trump had the backstage crew DJ an impromptu concert for 39 minutes, starting with not one, but two renditions of Franz Schubert's Ave Maria — two, because the DJ played an instrumental version and Trump wanted Luciano Pavarotti's performance.

Followed by several songs by artists such as Rufus Wainwright who have demanded that he cease and desist playing recordings of their performances at his rallies.

According to video from the evening, Trump played Rufus Wainwright’s cover of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” as well as Sinead O’Connor’s “Nothing Compares 2 U,” Oliver Anthony’s “Rich Men North of Richmond,” Guns N’ Roses’ “November Rain,” James Brown’s “It’s a Man’s Man’s Man’s World,” Elvis’ “An American Trilogy,” the Village People’s “Y.M.C.A.” and Andrea Bocelli’s “Time to Say Goodbye.”

All the while, South Dakota Governor Kristi "Shoot the Pooch" Noem (the moderator for the evening) and a mute Greek chorus of special guests were trapped on stage. You could see them distractedly swaying and shuffling and clapping along with the Donald, clearly wondering how to get the hell out of there without being noticed.

In the end, Trump answered only four people's questions, and left town happy and pleased with his performance.

Saturday, November 10, 2018

At the End of the War to End All Wars


Surrenderback Saturday today observes the centennial of the end of World War I with a quick survey of the editorial cartoons that appeared in America's newspapers on the eleventh day of the eleventh month of 1918.
"Licked" by Nelson Harding in Brooklyn Daily Eagle, November 11, 1918
Kaiser Wilhelm Hohenzollern having abdicated days earlier, Germany surrendered to the Entente powers effective at 11:00 a.m. Paris Time, November 11. It accepted Woodrow Wilson's Fourteen Points as the basis for the post-war world and agreed to pay heavy reparations to the victorious allies.
"Humanity's Greatest Day" by John McCutcheon in Chicago Tribune, November 11, 1918
The Austro-Hungarian Empire, which had launched the war in 1914, no longer existed; Vienna looked on, spent and helpless, as its various Slavic groups established break-away republics and Hungary divorced in the "Aster Revolution" of October 31. On November 11 Emperor Karl I stepped away from active participation in Austria's affairs of state (although he did not officially abdicate).
"Thank God!" by John H. Cassel in New York Evening World, November 11, 1918
Most of the American cartoons I have found, however, focused on Kaiser Wilhelm's fate.
"How the Mighty Fall" by Winsor McCay in New York Journal, November 11, 1918
World War I marked the last gasp of royalty as the basis of government in most of Europe. Leftist revolutions took over in Berlin and Vienna, and republics of various stripes took root throughout Mitteleuropa where Kaiser Wilhelm had planned to crown Germanic monarchs, as well as in the former Viennese vassal lands. In most remaining countries with a crowned head of state, elected legislatures would do the actual governing.

"A Mute Inglorious End" by C.F. Naughton in Duluth Evening Herald, November 11, 1918
Yet monarchy was not the only institution to take a beating. Military technology had progressed greatly in the few years since the 19th Century. For the first time, war could be fought in the air (essentially by amateurs and hobbyists) and underwater, and with a long-range gun located nearly 100 kilometers from its target. Chemical weapons killed and maimed even those sheltering in their trenches. Most deadly, however, were the rapid-fire machine guns and the improved accuracy of artillery, many times more fatal than the blunderbusses and cannons of old; yet the generals on both sides insisted on the outdated tactic of sending wave after wave of soldiers "over the top" into the line of fire.
"Germany Does Not Regret the Kaiser's Ghastly Murders..." by Charles Morgan in Philadelphia Inquirer, November 11, 1918
Those soldiers who managed against the odds not to be mowed down by enemy fire returned home disillusioned by the incompetence and stubbornness of their commanding officers. As a result, in stark contrast with those of earlier wars, the memorials and statues to World War I (and our observance of Veterans' Day) celebrate the common soldier and not the commanding general.
"On Their Way," unsigned (Harry Murphy, perhaps?) in Washington (DC) Times, November 11, 1918
A poem by British soldier Wilfred Owens, included in Benjamin Britten's War Requiem, twists the biblical account of Abraham and Isaac:
So Abram rose, and clave the wood, and went,
And took the fire with him, and a knife.
And as they sojourned both of them together,
Isaac the first-born spake and said, My Father,
Behold the preparations, fire and iron,
But where the lamb for this burnt-offering?
Then Abram bound the youth with belts and straps,
And builded parapets and trenched there,
And stretched forth the knife to slay his son.
When lo! and angel called him out of heaven,
Saying, Lay not thy hand upon the lad,
Neither do anything to him. Behold,
A ram, caught in a thicket by its horns;
Offer the Ram of Pride instead of him.
But the old man would not so,
but slew his son, —
And half the seed of Europe, one by one.
"Get a New Chauffeur, I Resign!" by "Bill" Sykes in Philadelphia Evening Ledger, November 11, 1918
Even though the allies' victory was assured several days before Germany surrendered, the fighting continued right up to the stroke of 11:00 November 11. As a final tribute to the ghastly pointlessness of the military strategy of those "old men," some 2,000 sons on both sides were killed in those final eleven hours of the war.
"The Goth and the Flame" by Daniel Fitzpatrick in St. Louis Post-Dispatch, November, 1918
The victorious allies sowed the seeds for the end of their colonial empires. Asian and African people who had seldom or never known popular rule saw the Entente powers grant self-determination to the people of eastern Europe and saw no reason why their fate should be any different. But Germany's colonies and the Ottoman Empire were divvied up among the European victors instead, without regard to their subjects' ethnic, religious and tribal identities — with repercussions that continue to echo a century later.
"Across No-Man's Land" by Rollin Kirby in New York World, November, 1918
Punishing terms imposed upon Germany by the Treaty of Versailles led to the Nazi's "Make Germany Great Again" nationalism, and to the Great War's sequel in 1939-45.

"When a Feller Needs a Friend" by Clare Briggs in New York Tribune, November, 1918
Emerging from the war relatively unscathed, the United States took over from London as the seat of global finance, launching a robust economy for the next decade. For many, this was a time for optimism that the cause of democracy was on the ascendancy around the world (by which we meant Europe).
"From the Ashes of Despotism" by Sidney Greene in New York Evening Telegram, November 11, 1918
Further to the left, the world socialist movement saw the end of the war as their chance to overthrow the forces of capitalism and plutocracy. A mutiny by German sailors at Wilhelmshaven at the end of October spread, fueled by socialist unrest, and sent Kaiser Wilhelm fleeing into exile on November 9.

It's unfortunate that The Masses had been shut down, scattering its cartoonists to the winds; but I still have an example for you of a radical left-wing cartoon from the socialist New York Call. (Ryan Walker's cartoon in the November 11 issue had no relevance to war or peace, so here's his cartoon from the next day.)
"My Place Is in the Sun!" by Ryan Walker in New York Call, November 12, 1918
Walker's cartoon depicts the "Worker" demanding his place in the sun from human figures Capitalism, Militarism, Profiteer (plus two others I can't read) and a snake labeled "Reactionary Press." Under his feet are the ruins of Russian, German and Austrian autocracy. And since I relaxed the deadline to include Ryan Walker, here's the November 12 cartoon by Clifford Berryman, who didn't get a cartoon in his paper the previous day.
"Me Und—Napoleon" by Clifford Berryman in Washington (DC) Times, November 12, 1918
While cartoonists across the United States were celebrating the fall of the Kaiser and the triumph of democracy, readers of the Des Moines Register's front page on November 11 were treated to a more somber message from the pen of John "Ding" Darling. Every party needs its pooper.
"Now All She Has to Do..." by Jay N. "Ding" Darling in Des Moines Register, November 11, 1918
Tune in again next week for a look at what European cartoonists were up to in the immediate aftermath of the war.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Trending 150 Years Ago Today

In case you missed it yesterday, here's what was trending across the nation 150 years ago today:
Now let's see if I understand Garry Trudeau's theory of satire correctly...

If a cartoonist for one of these papers drew a "Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play" cartoon, that would be punching up against the Powers That Be, and that would be okay. But a cartoon showing John Wilkes Booth making his grand entrance at the Gates of Hell would be punching down at a defeated Victim of History, and you shouldn't do that.
Heck, just settle for Our American Cousin shedding a single tear, then.

Monday, September 15, 2014

This Week's Sneak Peek / R.I.P.

This week's sneak peek comes with a Requiescat In Pace for one of the cartoonists who influenced my career, Tony Auth, who succumbed to brain cancer yesterday at the age of 72. He had retired from the Philadelphia Inquirer only two years ago. He continued posting cartoons on line; his last cartoon is dated July 1.

His deliberately simple style came from the theory that the message rather than the artwork should be the focus of the editorial cartoon. It also lent itself to the move from pen and ink to digital artwork, a medium he championed to others in the craft. (I'm still a troglodyte in that regard.)

A tribute from his editor is here.
The back cover of Auth's 1977 book of cartoons, Behind the Lines

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

More Mr. Globehead

Here's another example of a Mr. Globehead editorial cartoon. This one's from The Philadelphia Inquirer in reaction to the conviction of Captain Dreyfus by a French court at Rennes. The verdict Judge Globehead is handing forth reads "The whole world disapproves of the verdict at Rennes." Regrettably, I can't read either the cartoonist's signature or the folded paper on the floor.

Public Opinion of New York, the magazine in whose September 11, 1899 edition it appears, occasionally includes the name of the cartoonist along with a description of the cartoons it prints. Their crediting of the cartoonist isn't consistent; the cartoonist is never named when the cartoon illustrates an article, and only once in a while in their periodic "Current Cartoons" round-up. (By the end of 1899, the magazine seems to have given up on the often superfluous accompanying descriptions of the "Current Cartoons." But they obviously appreciated editorial cartoons; in 1902, they started illustrating the cover of their semiannual bound editions with them.) I'm still looking for any instance in which the magazine names the Inquirer's cartoonist.

The cartoon at right is from the Minneapolis Times in September, 1901. R.C. Bowman was the cartoonist for the Minneapolis Tribune, and Charles Lewis "Bart" Bartholomew (see a book of his 1899 cartoons here) was the cartoonist for the Minneapolis Journal, but I don't know who the cartoonist for the Minneapolis Times was. "Dove Lotion" is about all I'm able to make out in this one, which apparently references the Boer War and the Boxer Rebellion. If that boil is to represent Cuba, it is inflamed to the point that surgery may be called for.

These examples of Mr. Globehead don't push his advent any earlier than our previously posted cartoons, so the hunt continues.