A momentous thing has happened: I was reading The New Yorker the other day, and one of the cartoons made me actually LOL. Usually, I don’t understand the vague jokes; they tend to be droll instead of funny. (I pretend that I understand though because I’m not an idiot, and I’ll be damned if a cartoon disproves that.) And even at best, the cartoons are just mildly amusing, sometimes evoking a smirk. But I think this cartoon by Paul Noth is genuinely hilarious because I’m pretty sure there are actually only five ways to kill a man with a lemon. So you see, the numbers don’t add up!
Lately though The New Yorker in general seems to be extra funny. Exhibit A: this fantastic piece by Noah Baumbach that’s essentially a monologue of a bee high on coke. In particular, this excerpt is brilliant: “God, I so badly wanna just go sting the fuck out of someone, you know? Just land on their ass and sting. . . . I’m so fucking jazzed right now. And then I hope they’re allergic and they just blow up!”
And then, in getting the pictures and links for this post, I found a New Yorker blogger who talks incessantly about robots—what they wear, whether they’re evil, etc. You can even learn to build your own robot at work (see the picture below)! I highly recommend reading it. The writer (who I suspect might be Dan) seems to respond to reader commentary, so maybe someone should ask whether eating a robot is against vegetarian ideals.
