Sweet … relief.
Beyond that, I got nothin’. I mean, sure, I should probably bust out The Cure or something, just because, you know? Except it violates the Geneva Conventions, and damn well ought to. Won’t someone please think of the children?
Never mind. Cure jokes never work with nerds.
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Tarpley, Matt. “Mary Monday”. Mary Death. 12 September 2015.
I confess I couldn’t muck this one up properly, so, you know, here you go. Not quite Mary Zen, but, you know.
You know what would really suck about Utopia?
Having nothing left to hope for.
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Tarpley, Matt. “Prepared”. Mary Death. 18 June 2015.
First world problems.
What? What else need we say?
C’mon. It’s Mary. It’s always the end of the world when Death is your best friend.
And, besides, it’s Matt Tarpley, whose sense of tragedy is infamous.
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Tarpley, Matt. “Despair”. Mary Death. 5 June 2015.
—————. “Dead Meat”. Mary Death. 7 October 2014.
It is true that there is a certain neologism I have come to loathe for something about its lazy aptitude. Aptness. Quality or characteristic of being lazily apt. Whatever. Or maybe it’s just because it’s a buzzword I’m just sick of.
Nonetheless there are no substitutes I might suggest and, in good conscience, call funny, or, at least, entertaining.
Still, I mean, you know … no Rosie and her Five Sisters jokes for that. Autonecrophilia?
Never mind.
At any rate, once again we might give thanks unto Matt Tarpley for making an entirely different obvious joke.
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Tarpley, Matt. “Gravestone”. Mary Death. 15 May 2015.
Even the immortals can weary of their duties.
Everybody wants to be a hero; everybody wants to live an adventure. Then again, what a job.
Dare to dream.
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Tarpley, Matt. Mary Death. 28 April 2015.
This is perhaps the most important part of the ritual.
No, really. Anything else I might say only diminishes this wonderful moment, brought to us courtesy the one and only Matt Tarpley.
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Tarpley, Matt. “A Guide to Spring Cleaning”. Mary Death. 17 April 2015.
No, that’s not a Chick tract savaging the Virgin Mother.
Rather, that would be Matt Tarpley, and just what has Mary gotten herself into?
Which is a far better question than … er … right. Not gonna do the divine moneyshot joke.
Oh.
(sigh)
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Tarpley, Matt. “Mayday”. Mary Death. 10 April 2015.
If your Death Sense is tingling, it probably isn’t good news. But what is good news is a handy list of Mary Death episodes to click, read, and enjoy:
• “True Form” (10 March 2015)
• “Lost” (13 March 2015)
• “Going on an Adventure” (17 March 2015)
• “Where’s Waldo?” (20 March 2015)
• “Some Answers, More Questions!” (24 March 2015)
• “Exit” (27 March 2015)
• “Game Time” (31 March 2015)
• “Where To?” (1 April 2015)
• “Stories” (3 April 2015)
No, really, that’s all a an ongoing story arc, and includes the beginning of a spinoff. Everybody say, “Thank you, Mr. Tarpley!”
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Image note: Top―Detail of “Where’s Waldo?”, 20 March 2015. Right―Detail of “Going on an Adventure”, 17 March 2015.
Update: Added “Stories” (3 April 2015), on 7 April 2015.
Do you really need a punch line, or can you figure this one out yourself?
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Tarpley, Matt. “Going on an Adventure”. Mary Death. 17 March 2015.
One thing about the American attitude is that we’ve transformed our outlook during my lifetime; one opens a business not with careful planning, but with an idea and a perception of opportunity. Many of these small, family-run businesses survive by the skins of their teeth, and develop functional business plans on the fly.
There is this aspect; a small bakery in Indianapolis likely does face constant financial challenges, and that in turn sucks the vitality out of the dream of being a baker or confectionist. As with all things, art is much more fun when it’s not a living.
But we are also a nation that believes in the proverbial fifteen minutes. Fame brings opportunity for profit. Though it is unclear what role this plays, the Indianapolis bakery is the second or third to gain headline traction for closing as a protest of conscience against civil rights; there was one in Oregon, and I believe also down in Arizona, but I’d have to check.
What we’re noticing on our plentiful American ground is that nobody really gives a damn. It’s as if American society is simply shrugging and moving on, and nobody is making the explicit point because nobody wants to be the one to pretend it is important enough to stop and take the moment to explain it to a bunch of people who won’t listen, anyway.
But there it is: Whether they were going under before, or simply fell out of love with their business dream, or are genuinely pursuing their consciences according to some perverse assertion of self-interest, the conventional wisdom on these outcomes seems to be that they did it to themselves. On some level, people are thinking, “Well, you could have just made the fucking cake and found some other way to chase everyone away from your business beating your chest about the conscience of your bigotry.”
This way, though, whatever the reasons one’s business is going under, blaming the government and calling yourself a victim is one way to appeal to the fifteen minutes; maybe social media will bring them a pile of cash from sympathizers. Then again, it’s not like we only left them a Negro―that is to say, nobody’s dead―so it’s not quite spectacular enough to get people sending that reward money.
It seems like almost a side note, but watch how showbiz and the fifteen minutes become so many Americans’ backup plans. Maybe one of these bakers will run for state legislature. Or, hell, Congress. House seats carry a low bar for admission among Republican voters.
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Note: Would you believe this was crossposted from Facebook? Yeah, it happens sometimes. A special tip of the hat and many thanks to Sean and Ben for inspiring this brief consideration in the wake of reports that another bigot bakery broke.
Image note: Detail of Mary Death by Matt Tarpley, 27 February 2015. I’ve been looking for an excuse to use this one.
This Is 