Hey gang, it’s The New Yorker. You can’t be zany, sophomoric, sarcastic or arcane. You have to be wry.
Try this: Put on wire-rimmed glasses and a bowtie and do crossword puzzles with a fountain pen before sitting down to write more captions. Preferably in a leather chair with all the studs in it, like the kind lawyers use.
I thought all four were dry-New Yorker funny.
Who the Hell’s your lawyer, Robert Mapplethorpe?
I liked it Biffy. It had that Mondrian/Monarch thing going on…
My preference was for the last one. In fact, I was thinking along almost exactly the same lines before I knew that I could read the finalists’ captions, and came up with this:
“It doesn’t do anything for me, but I really score with Neo-Plasticist chicks.”
Every so often they’re actually funny. I have this one up on my cubicle wall, but then I’m a librarian and I do the Times crossword, so I might be wryer than I think.
Biffy, I’ll give you the nod. I don’t think any of the three finalists are much to speak of – but then I rarely do. In fact, I don’t see this contest lasting much longer. It’s been pretty dismal so far.
You have to be in a certain frame of mind, I think, but if you are, then the New Yorker cartoons are consistently–mostly–pretty damn funny. They tend to run to the non sequitur and the surreal, rather than the easy punchline. But they can be pretty damn funny.
Doctor’s office receptionist, on the phone: “I’m sorry, the doctor no longer makes phone calls.”
Dorothy and Toto are tied to a tree. The Cowardly Lion says to the Scarecrow and the Tin Man: “You get her heart, you get her brain, and I get to eat the dog!”
First frame: drowning boy shouts to collie on the shore: “Lassie! Get help”
Second frame: collie on his back on a psychiatrist’s couch, as the doctor takes notes.
ONe of my favorite NYer cartoonists is Booth, whose stuff was simply startingly surreal; the surprise is what makes you laugh. Well, it’s what makes me laugh.
The New Yorker has the most consistently funny cartoonists going, ever since Gary Larson retired. And I adore the caption contest. It’s already produced a number of classics:
A scientist in a lab full of cages of mice, dressed in a mouse costume.
More Important, though, is what I’ve learned about myself.
And then there’s the two guys sitting at a bar, looking perfectly normal except that one has a monkey tale.
Try telling that to the Kansas Board of Education.
This one is one my office door, and has produced a number of chuckles from co-workers.
Color me unimpressed. To judge my the three captions that he wrote at the end of the article, this guy is of the Leno/Letterman school that all humor derives from stating that men are gay. Which has worked for Leno and Letterman, of course, but the New Yorker strives for a higher standard.
Sorry, I didn’t find yours funny. I did find the “mature female” caption quite hilarious, though. Yes. I actually laughed out-loud at that one. (And I don’t normally laugh at New Yorker cartoons.) The soup-can one was just corny. The kids one was pretty good, too, and much more of a typical New Yorker cartoon–just enough to barely get you to crack the merest hint of a smile.
Nothing masses the humor snobs on this board like The New Yorker.
“Wry” humor, at best, can be expressed with a chortle.
I find wry humor at its most pretentious when it alludes solely to fine arts aesthetics, mocks worldy *ennui * and expresses the sardonic sensibilities of the noblesse oblige.
Fucking tedious.
ONE cartoon so far was laugh out loud funny. Yay, Zsofia. I’ll never look at Babar the Elephant the same way again.
Apparently I need a little vulgarity, cruelty and violence in my jokes.
Biffy, your caption reminded me of Gary Larson, too. Nice.
That’s my favorite so far.
Here would’ve been my entries:
“Holy crap! A talking butterfly!”
or
“Canyou point me in the direction of Albuquerque”
Gee, and I was positive you’d get a charge out of it. (Hey Podkayne, do you like chemistry jokes, too?)
Just to prove that I’m not totally full of myself, I’ll point out that I submitted captions for both of those, but the winners were clearly better than my contributions.
Thanks for the feedback, everybody.
OK. I’m obviously having a whoosh moment. Although I’ve chimed in on the subject in my post above, I’m still not getting Biffy’s joke. I know who Piet Mondrian is. Is there a double meaning to “real Mondrians are toxic to butterflies” I’m missing…or…? I’m really afraid it’s something obvious, and I’ve avoided asking thus far, but now the curiosity is killing. Please! Explain the punchline!
ahem “…toxic to birds” that should read.
The Viceroy Butterfly evolved protective mimcry to look like the Monarch Butterfly. Birds don’t eat Monarchs because the plant the caterpillars eat, Milkweed, makes them toxic to birds.
So, picture a Viceroy saying, " . . . but real Monarchs are toxic to birds."
Way, way, over my head… Is this just common knowledge I slept through in grade school?
Well, it’s somewhat common knowledge that in nature many creatures have adapted to look like other things that are dangerous without themselves being dangerous. Or at least I think it is.
I knew vaguely of the Viceroy/Monarch example (I knew some butterflies did that), but I thought it was common knowledge that there are creatures that look like thorns, butterflies that look like their wings are the eyes of a large creature, that kind of thing. It was enough to go on to get Biffy’s joke, which I liked. . .at least as much as the too easy soup can one.
For # 25… anyone can use it if they wish, as I’m not a US citizen:
“Bill wasn’t taking any chances in the elevators after the last Chili Tuesday at work.”
Not bad. A bit esoteric. But I won’t claim that I laughed or even snorted out a mouthful of coffee.
My entries (had I but entered):
“Why yes, if you must know, my mom did drop acid.”
“And on my shoulder blade, I have the Chinese symbol for tranquility.”
Well, that I knew from snakes. I never learned about the Viceroy butterfly, though.
Guess I just couldn’t make the mental connection.
