I have never, ever subscribed to The New Yorker.
There. I said it.
Call me unsophisticated, a troglodyte, a knob, whatev. I’m okay with it. I read The Pew Yorker occasionally when hanging out with friends more refined than me. But after eyeballing an issue, I put it down and walk away. It makes me feel stupid and I’m already full-up in that department.
It’s not the articles. I can deal with a lengthy piece now and again and I’m always able to soldier through “Shouts & Murmurs” and reviews with little damage to my ego.
And it’s not the pompous Mr. Peanut dandy who represents. I get it. Dudes with monocles read The New Yorker. As they should. It’s their thing, along with spats and a penchant for crème brûlée (not to mention words using the accent aigu).
It’s the goddamn cartoons. When I'm in a dentist's office, I'd still rather reach for Highlights than The New Yorker. I can always detect what doesn't belong in a picture but fuck if I know what is clever or funny about a cartoon of a dude who, while raking leaves, holds up a maple leaf and says to his wife, "They're all pretty, but this one is my favorite"? Am I missing something? Like IQ points or my frontal lobe? I'd like to change this caption to read: "You know, Jennifer could dip this in resin or metal and make a five-pointed weapon to kill me with." That I would understand. That I could get behind.
I want to punch these cartoons in their smug, insidery face. What's black and white and red all over? A New Yorker cartoon after I've beaten it to a bloody pulp.
What New Yorker cartoon had you scratching your head?
(photo: This cartoon I get.)