And what a treat. Ventriloquist dummy cartoons. Operating room cartoons. Bring your daughter to work day cartoons (the stripper, the prison guard on death row). Lots of couples in bed, quite a few coffins, wise-cracking animalsan obsessive's plumbing of the weird, the scary, the off-the-wall, and done so without restraint.
Every week The New Yorker receives 500 cartoon submissions, and rejects a great majoritymostly, of course, for not being funny enough. There's no question why these were rejected, and it's not for lack of laughs. One can almost hear Eustace Tilley sniffing, We are not amused.
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