Panel appearing in a recent issue of the inestimably indomitable Ester Republic.
Went through a few revisions with the caption verbage: originally it read "You're All Idiots" - then shortened it to say just "Believe It" - but my fuming anger over hypocrisy won out in the end. This would be a deliberately confrontational editorial specifically intended to cast a big, wet, cold blanket over as many people as possible. I sincerely hoped it pissed them off half as much as I was am.
And as for the comment that this is might be a tad bit insensitive, especially given the proximity to the all-too recent event that originally precipitated the panel, I'm usually more than happy to come across that way if it means at least somebody pointing out the obvious. It was an awful event that should be a wake-up call, and affect everyone, or at least it should. When the newspaper tactfully restricted comments on the original (on-line) story out of respect for the bereaved, I thought instead that it would be an absolutely appropriate moment to make the connection with how many truly inattentive and hostile drivers infest the community. At least there's cold comfort in the fact that a tragedy like this still is news-worthy in our little outpost, compared to the daily accidents in other urban areas that have long since ceased to even make a ripple.
I used to disparage the veritable army of bad drivers from downtown and around the base when I was working on that side of town - seemed there was an astonishing demographic of clueless and rude people behind the wheel in that particular area. Then I moved to Ester, and discovered the twice-daily flotilla of moronic commuters who are equally inconsiderate and insane. And now there's the pilgrimage of congenital idiots that mindlessly ram their way each day to and from the Goldstream Valley. So ultimately it's like picking on people from the South, or the North, or liberals, or conservatives etc. - the only common denominator for generally stupid behavior seems to involve the species.
Every year I keep meaning to spend a couple days with a camera in the backseat of a friends car, pop up and take down the actual license plates, and publish caricatures of all the tail-gating cretins that somehow manage to operate a vehicle while simultaneously having their heads shoved so far up their respective asses it'll take killing someone to maybe make them slow the hell down. Maybe.
But now here's a closing thought: after carefully working this panel up and emailing it off, I looked at it again in review, and noticed with horror that what with all my meticulous attention to detail in getting the hand that's holding the cell-phone just right (even having the g-friend pose), somehow I missed out on the fact that there's two left hands.
Let this be a poignant lesson in observation: even sitting behind a drawing table, simple, stupid oversights can assume tragic dimensions later on in retrospect.
And that, my friends, ain't shit compared to what can happen behind the wheel.