21/01/2006, Part II

So this comic took way longer to finish than I thought it would. Two more pages! It'll be faster though, since I've got holidays now. Again, click on the images to see the full version.

Um... here I am doing... various things.

If you can identify all the people in panel three, you are good.

The TV on the wall was actually showing MTV Cribs, but World's Funniest Accidental Deaths would be an awesome show.

End of page two. Comments are appreciated, even if you have nothing good to say.

So in the past few days, shit went down. I don't think I'll ever be short on blogging material again, but today had to be the climax of the whole month. And it's not over yet. It's been a strange day.

So Dexter told us a story about a town with a problem. To specify, a whale problem. The whale was forty five-foot, eight tons and very dead.

This is the word from Dave Barry on the Infamous Exploding Whale.

The Farside comes to life in Oregon.

I am absolutely not making this incident up; in fact I have it all on videotape. The tape is from a local TV news show in Oregon, which sent a reporter out to cover the removal of a 45-foot, eight-ton dead whale that washed up on the beach. The responsibility for getting rid of the carcass was placed on the Oregon State Highway Division, apparently on the theory that highways and whales are very similar in the sense of being large objects.

So anyway, the highway engineers hit upon the plan -- remember, I am not making this up -- of blowing up the whale with dynamite. The thinking is that the whale would be blown into small pieces, which would be eaten by seagulls, and that would be that. A textbook whale removal.

So they moved the spectators back up the beach, put a half-ton of dynamite next to the whale and set it off. I am probably not guilty of understatement when I say that what follows, on the videotape, is the most wonderful event in the history of the universe. First you see the whale carcass disappear in a huge blast of smoke and flame. Then you hear the happy spectators shouting "Yayy!" and "Whee!" Then, suddenly, the crowd's tone changes. You hear a new sound like "splud." You hear a woman's voice shouting "Here come pieces of...MY GOD!" Something smears the camera lens.

Later, the reporter explains: "The humor of the entire situation suddenly gave way to a run for survival as huge chunks of whale blubber fell everywhere." One piece caved in the roof of a car parked more than a quarter of a mile away. Remaining on the beach were several rotting whale sectors the size of condominium units. There was no sign of the seagulls who had no doubt permanently relocated to Brazil.

This is a very sobering videotape. Here at the institute we watch it often, especially at parties. But this is no time for gaiety. This is a time to get hold of the folks at the Oregon State Highway Division and ask them, when they get done cleaning up the beaches, to give us an estimate on the US Capitol.

What he had neglected to mention was that the whole incident occured more than 35 years ago. The exact date was November 12, 1970. He also said that someone had been killed by a flaming chunk of whale meat. He never told us there was a video, either.

Tonight you will dream of flaming chunks of whale blubber raining down on your homes.