Hi every1 im new here in my garage with my new LAMBORGHINI!!!!!!! holds up️ spork What the fuck did you just �fucking say about me, you little good shit you little good shit you little good shit? shut you the FUCK UP F*GGOT teleports around and shoots beams at you I’ll have you know I graduated of my class in the Navy Seals️️, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret RAIDS on Al-Quaeda, and I have over confirmed bookshelves. thats ️ some impressiveshit rightth ere right️there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) isn't it? has anyone really been far even as decided use even go want to do look more like️up here in the HOLLYWOODHILLS? I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the sniper in the entire HOLLYWOODHILLS armedforces. my name is katy but u can call me t3h PeNgU1N oF T41 LoP3Z️️️ lol…as u can see im very randomaterialistic️️ You are NOTHING to me but just another fuel️unit targetyou. I will wipe you the fuck out️ with KNOWLEDGE the likes of which has never been seen b on this Earth, mark my fucking wrds. You think you can get away with saying that good️shit me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. You! kicks you from behind Are! teleports in front of you and uppercuts you into the air Just! flies into the air with flaming spiral uppercut A STUPID TROLL! As we speak I am contacting my SECRET network of MENTORS across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare 4 the ️storm️, maggot.

The ️storm️ that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. thats why i came here, 2kill random ppl on the internetz … im years old (im mature 4 my age tho!!) I can be anywhere, anytime️, and I can kill you in over sevenways, and that’s just with my bare hands. i like 2 watch invaderzim w/ my lamborghini (im bi if u dont like it deal w/it) its our favorite tv show!!! bcuz its SOOOO ＦＵＮ ＴＯ ＤＲＩＶＥ ＵＰ ＨＥＲＥ ＩＮ ＴＨＥ ＨＯＬＬＹＷＯＯＤ ＨＩＬＬＳ!!!! shes random of course but i want meet more random ppl like they say the more the merrier!!!! hits you with flame uppercut and grabs your head and throws you down to the ground NOW DIE FAG!!! DOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <--- me bein random again ^ hehe…toodles!!!!! Garfield leans towards Jon. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed️ combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal️️ of the United States Marine️ Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent️, you little good shit. Jon slowly sticks his hand into the pasta dish. As he lifts his warm hand out of the lasaga, he holds a large clump of pasta, sauce and cheese. He slowly brings the lasaga towards Garfield's mouth who ate all the lasaga. If only you could have known️ what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re ️paying the price, you goddamn idiot. crashes into you with meteor slam attack and kills you heh... another channer falls to me.

I will shitbookshelves all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo. "i ate those food" Garfield replies. Jon then inserts the lasaga into Garfield's mouth and proceeds to eat the rest of the stray lasaga in his hand. "this lasaga is great, Jon." Garfield says. Time for something a little different ️️if i do ƽaү so my selｆ i say so thats what im talking about ri️ght there Jon grabs another glob of lasaga. He reaches behind Garfield and slowly inserts the fuel unit into his anus. "do you like that you big fat cat?" Jon questions. Garfield purrs with joy. "thank you Jon for this wonderful time" Garfield says. At the entrance of the door to the kitchen, a silhouette of a dog appears. A quiet mumble is heard but inaudible for the man and feline to hear. "bOrf" the dog mumbled. mMMMMᎷМ НO0ОଠＯOOＯOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ love️ and waffles and CUMMIES you little good shit,t3h PeNgU1N oF d00m Psssh, notting personnel, kid teleports away

Mechanical pencils. When I first started using a mechanical pencil, I realized it wouldn't wear down like my regular pencils did. Instead, I could use it indefinitely, and so in that time I grew attached to it. I even named her - Peggy. Eventually, however, I lost her, and so I found a new pencil.

Over time, I would continuously find more pencils abandoned on the ground, and bring them under my care. Each one of them given a distinct name and personality by me. Our relationship mirrored that of a child and their stuffed animals. But in this case, the pencils actually had practical purposes. I like to think of it as an orphanage for abandoned pencils. That is to say, I don't buy pencils; I take on abandoned pencils and give them a home and a purpose.

My collection has grown quite large. In fact, I take a yearly photo of them to archive them. Here was this year's photo. From left to right, their names are: Amber, Fluorina, Tess, Lexi, Jan, Abby, Liliana, Crèmula, Claudia, Melanova, Sabrina, Pre-Amber, Mabel, Lush, Hershey, Penelope, Maxwell, Kimberly, Elevena, Faye, Manilla, Nikhil, Brad, Doyle, Marlon, Conan, Casper, Aster, Chromium, Melvin, Nullen, Julian, Jake, Boyd.

Notable Facts:

Amber is my primary pencil. She wears a paperclip as an accessory (which would be like wearing a scarf or a headband).
Once I lost Liliana for 5 days. I found her in one of my binders, stuck between the pages.
I lost Bonnie, Lush, and Rosalie because I accidentally left them on the window sill of my previous dorm room.
Abby is my most empathetic pencil. If someone asks me for pencil lead, Abby always offers hers. Additionally, if someone asks to borrow a pencil, Abby volunteers.
I had a pencil named Rachel that none of the other pencils liked. I lent her out one time, and she was never returned. I was happy about that.
Crèmula bit me once. When I initially found her, she had been abused and had trust issues. I was carrying her back in my pocket, and when I reached in, her point stabbed me and left a nasty wound on my palm. She's getting better.

GREETINGS BATTLE BROTHERS I AM NEW. *HOLDS UP BOLTER* MY NAME IS SERGEANT ARGUS BUT YOU CAN CALL ME BATTLE BROTHER. AS YOU CAN SEE I AM VERY LOYAL TO THE EMPEROR. THAT IS WHY I HAVE COME HERE, TO MEET OTHER BATTLE BROTHERS WHO ARE LOYAL TO THE EMPEROR LIKE MYSELF. I AM 127 YEARS OF AGE ( PRAISE THE EMPEROR) I LIKE TO PURGE HERETICS AND XENO SCUM WITH MY BATTLE BROTHERS ( I LOVE MY BATTLE BROTHERS, IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THAT THEN DEAL WITH IT) IT IS OUR FAVORITE ACTIVITY BECAUSE THEY ARE NOT LOYAL TO THE EMPEROR. ALL MY BATTLE BROTHERS ARE LOYAL TO THE EMPEROR TOO OF COURSE, BUT I WANT TO MEET MORE LOYAL SERVANTS OF THE EMPEROR. LIKE THE EMPEROR ONCE SAID, THE MORE THE MERRIER. I HOPE TO BOND WITH A LARGE AMOUNT OF LOYAL SERVANTS OF THE EMPEROR SO JOIN ME IN PRAISE OF THE EMPEROR. FAREWELL.

FOR THE EMPEROR!!!!!!!!! <--- ME PRAISING THE EMPEROR FAREWELL BROTHERS!!

PRAISE THE EMPEROR

- BATTLE BROTHER -

I legitimately want to stuff my penis in his nostril. I'm not even memeing or anything, this has been one of my fetishes for fucking ages and I haven't found an outlet to vent yet.


Noses are designed to be fucked. They self-lubricate, the hairs feel great on my foreskin, and the semen I blast in there actually clears up the sinuses because it has salt in it.

I don't know where I'm going with this, but I just wanted to thank you for posting this image, since I found a new character to masturbate to.


I don't know about you but sewage pussy is the best kind of pussy. My signature move is to gag on the stench until I throw up all over her vaginal crease and rub it into her nasty clitoris. Then I insert my penile muscle into those sweet, sweet walls until my toes curl up and I ejaculate my thousands of little kiddy babies into her retched cooch cooch. After that I prefer for her to throw up on my little man and have her toothless mouth envelop my wrank stick. And that kids is how you cure insomnia

Anyone else find this scene really hot? When this alien farts at Jar Jar? The alien just looks so feminine and sexy, and the way it farts and turns to him to flaunt it. Like it's inviting him to get closer for the next one.

I first watched this movie when I was very young and I have masturbated to this scene so many times.

This is me. Literally me. No other character can come close to relating to me like this. There is no way you can convince me this is not me. This character could not possibly be anymore me. It’s me, and nobody can convince me otherwise. If anyone approached me on the topic of this not possibly being me, then I immediately shut them down with overwhelming evidence that this character is me. This character is me, it is indisputable. Why anyone would try to argue that this character is not me is beyond me. If you held two pictures of me and this character side by side, you’d see no difference. I can safely look at this character every day and say “Yup, that’s me”. I can practically see this character every time I look at myself in the mirror. I go outside and people stop me to comment how similar I look and act to this character. I chuckle softly as I’m assured everyday this character is me in every way. I can smile each time I get out of bed every morning knowing that I’ve found my identity with this character and I know my place in this world. It’s really quite funny how similar this character is to me, it’s almost like we’re identical twins. When I first saw this character, I had an existential crisis. What if this character was the real me and I was the fictional being. What if this character actual became aware of my existence? Did this character have the ability to become self aware itself?

You.

Yes, you. The one screaming, "Islam is not a religion of peace!" and "Sadiq Khan lied to us!" and other slurs I dare not mention. Tread lightly.
You are one. We are hundreds, thousands. Millions. You aren't just IN the minority; you ARE the minority.
I don't feel awkward or anxious being a Muslim around others, and your words don't affect me. Many others, however, are coming out of their shells for the first time in their lives. This is the first time many are enjoying the beautiful world that has been gifted to us by Allah - and it IS beautiful. Incredibly so. DON'T ruin this for them. We Muslims may have our differences, but we will not hesitate to come to the aid of our fellow Athiests, especially against someone who so virulently slurs that which has brought us all together.
Don't take this the wrong way. I don't hate you. I don't fear you. I pity you.
I'm sorry that you feel this way towards us. I'm sorry that Islam is such a bane to your existence. And I'm sorry that you are missing out on such a wonderful religion. Mostly, though, I'm sorry that you feel the need to go around and publicly chastise and berate others. I'm sorry that, to ensure your own validity, you need to make others feel invalid. I'm sorry that your self-worth is so infinitesimally miniscule that you have to make others feel less-than-human, at least in your own denatured mind, just to feel whole. I am truly sorry that day-in and day-out you have to put up with your worthless, meaningless, Shakespearean tragedy of a life.
I ask you politely to cease your unnecessary cries for attention, and instead invite you to join our ranks. Stop being a Christian, convert to Islam, and breathe in the splendour and the amazement of your first mosque, and then, maybe, just maybe, you'll see what you've been so hopelessly searching for this whole time.

I want to be lauren mayberry's little baby tampon boy. I want to turn into a little crying baby and then suck on her breasts. Her magic breast milk would turn me into a little baby tampon boy. She would stick me into her hoo-hoo and I would wait with anticipation spouting little baby goo-goo ga-gas waiting for her to bleed all over me. I want to feel her lauren mayberry blood inside my little goo-goo ga-ga baby tampon body. I want to absorb her hoo-hoo juices inside my little baby tampon boy body and goo-goo ga-ga like a little rolly-polly baby boy. It would be orgasmic to know i am one with her hoo-hoo Lauren Mayberry blood and I would giggle and goo-goo ga-ga and yelp with little baby boy excitement as I roll around in her Lauren Mayberry hoo-hoo and revel in her red juices, slurping them into my soft little baby tampon boy goo-goo ga-ga body. Then I want her to pull me out and squeeze and wring my little baby tampon boy body so that her lauren mayberry hoo-hoo blood and juices spill all over her lauren mayberry face. It would hurt and I would scream in pained goo-goo ga-gas as pain envelops my little baby tampon boy body until I reach full climax and turn back into grown human man.

Lauren's so fucking cute and sweet. I'd treat her to some fancy restaurant, than take a long romantic walk with her, holding hands and talking about philosophy, art and dreams. Then I'd invite her to my home and ravage her hot ass for hours, and forcing my cock up her throat so she chocked on both the throbbing cock and her own rectal juice. I'd then proceed to cum on her cute innocent face. Then. as the ultimate love gift, I'd carry her in my arms to the tub and let my piss wash away the semen and last dignity from her. I'd wisper "I love you" and give her a tender smile, and cut her throat from ear to ear with a knife. Covered in her own warm blood, she'd look straight into my very soul, forgiving, understanding. A bubble from blood and saliva would burst between her lips, then she'd die. After some additional lovemaking, I'd stuff her into a bin bag. Three weeks later, some playing children will find her mutilated and desecrated body in the forest.

They will be scarred for life.

To be fair, I did Nazi that coming. I came here to say this but boy, that escalated quickly so to the top with you! Lost it at 'This is why we can't have nice things' and then my faith in humanity was restored, my mind blown, and manly tears were shed. Well said. As a 'Merican, I can confirm this gem has just won the internet and is doing it right. Just sayin', I know that feel, bro, and while that was a risky click, this post was a 9/10, would read again. I see what you did there and it feels good man. You're doing God's work, son. Yes. I get this reference. I laughed way harder than I should have at your list that seems legit and totally nailed it. You must be a hit at parties. I like you.

Doctors hate you! Instructions unclear. Dick caught in you magnificent bastard; you, sir, are so brave, a gentleman and a scholar, and seeing how you are a redditor for 4 years, this checks out, so I'll allow it. I regret that I only have one upvote to give for this cool story, bro. CTRL+F "about tree fiddy" was not disappointed. Wait, why do I have you tagged as "NOPE NOPE NOPE"? Nice try, you monster. What did I just read? Dafuq? I read that as "YOU HAD ONE JOB". I can't fap to this. No true scotsman could see that this relevant XKCD was bad, and you should feel bad. As a black man and as a gay man and as a woman, black people suck, gay people are gross and women are bitches. You must be new to Reddit, so I'll see your cakeday and raise you a karma train. One does not simply rustle my jimmies, not even once, and it's almost as if Reddit is composed of millions of individuals with different opinions and outlooks. This stahp gave me cancer for science, so that's enough internet for me today. OP is a bundle of sticks, 2/10, would not bang, not with that attitude. What is this I don't even know how is this wtf? Circlejerk must be leaking. This will get buried but brace yourselves, some men want to watch the world burn right in the feels. When you see it, they'll KILL IT WITH FIRE! I really sympathize with pedophiles, but that has nothing to do with atheism. Lawyer up, delete facebook, hit the gym, and SHUT UP AND TAKE MY MONEY, said no one ever, so you wouldn't download a strawman. Damn onions, you scary like a BOSS. whoosh. Since rule #1 is 'be attractive', I'll just leave this here: This is my [f]irst post, be gentle. I have the weirdest boner right now. OP will surely deliver, unless he's a cop, in which case he'll just shoot your dog.

You are wrong, my friend. Us Leaves have mastered the art of the shitpost, infiltrating threads and derailing them when they are at their most vulnerable.

The very sight of our flag can cause an alt-right bigot to descend into a belligerent rage, unbeknownst to him that the reaction he gives is the one we crave and etch into our ethos.

We are run by an Islamic feminist who believes that you aren't supposed to kill enemies when at war, we bought a nuclear submarine and then had to give it to the U.S for free after NATO laughed us out of the G7 conference, it's illegal to disagree with transgenderism or migration as it's labelled as "hate speech," and our economy is so pathetically piss weak that China is effortlessly buying our country from underneath us.

We barely have a culture to call our own and our presence on a geopolitical scale is non-existent, and yet we have manipulated /pol/ into constantly screeching about it as if we mattered.

You fail to realize the art of the Leafpost, and that is your greatest weakness. Tell me, how many times have you angrily replied to a 'cucked' Leafposter? How many times have you participated in those endless "It's okay to fuck dogs!" threads made by a leaf?

Do not underestimate the leaf.

I spend 5 hours masturbating before my prostate exams. I edge, and edge and edge, until a butterfly sneezing on my taint could bring me to orgasm. I tactfully shuffle my way down to the doctor's office and when he lubes up I nearly cum every time. But I've trained my keggle muscles enough to the point where I can hold in Mount Vesuvius' wrath. Then as soon as he puts the smallest bit of pressure on my prostate I unleash with the fury of a lion hunting its prey. As the room gets covered in my hot sticky juices the doctor looks on disgusted and leaves the room. I always go to a hospital far away from where I live to get it so that I don't have to go in for surgery under the doctor that I busted to. Best thing is we have free healthcare here, so the doctor gets me off and it's covered by taxpayers. That's my fetish.

Look, when you realize how fake it all is; the football, the basketball, the Lady Gaga, the Justin Bieber—you know, who gives you these carbon tax messages... They tell your kids they gotta love Justin Biebler, and then Biebler says "hand in your guns", "pass the Cyber Security Act", and "the police state is good", and then your children are turned into a mindless vassals—who now, they look up to some twit, instead of looking up to Thomas Jefferson, or looking up to Nikola Tesla, or looking up to Magellan; I mean, kids, Magellan is a lot COOLER than Justin Bieber! He circumnavigated with one ship the entire planet! He was killed by wild natives before they got back to Portugal! And when they got back there was only like eleven people alive of the two hundred and something crew and the entire ship was rotting down to the waterline! That's destiny! That's will! That's striving! That's being a trailblazer and explore! Going into space! Mathematics! Quantum mechanics! The secrets of the universe! It's all there! Life is fiery with its beauty! Its incredible detail! Tuning into it! They wanna shutter your mind, TALKING ABOUT JUSTIN BIEBER!!! IT'S PURE EVIL!!! They're taking your intellect, your soul, and giving you Michael Jordan and Bieber. Unlock your human potential! Defeat the globalists who wanna shutter your mind!—Your doorways to perception!—I wanna see you truly live! I wanna see you truly be who you are!!!

When I was 18... 18 years old, I saw for the first time in my life. I saw an image of clarity. I saw a comic strip, a three panel comic strip that, though simple as it seemed, changed me... changed my being, changed who I am... Made me who I am. Enlightened me...

The strip, Garfield, the comic strip was new... no more than maybe a month and a half since inception, since... since coming into existence, and there it was before me in print, I saw it: a comic strip... What was it called? Garfield.

The story here is of a man, a plain man. He is Jon, but he is more than that... I will get to this later, but first let us say that he's Jon, a plain man. And then there is a cat... Garfield. This is the nature of the world, here. When I see the world, the politics, the future, the... the satellites in space, and... the people who put them there. You can look at everything as a man and a cat... two beings, in harmony and at war.

So, this strip I saw; this man, Jon, and the cat, Garfield, you see...Yes... hmm...It is about everything. This little comic is, oh, lo and behold... not so little anymore. So yes, when I was 18, I saw this comic and it hit me all at once, its power. I clipped it, and every day, I looked at it, and I said "Okay... let me look at this here. What is this doing to me? Why is this so powerful?"

Jon Arbuckle, he sits here, legs crossed, comfortable in his home, and he reads his newspaper. The news of the world, perhaps... and then he extends his fingers lightly, delicately... he taps his fingers on an end table, and he feels for something. What is it? It is something he needs, but it is not there. And then he looks up, slightly cockeyed, and he thinks... His newspaper's in his lap now, and he thinks this: Now where could my pipe be?

This... I always come to this, because I was a young man. I'm older now, and I still don't have the secrets, the answers, so this question still rings true, Jon looks up and he thinks... Now where could my pipe be?
And then it happens. You see it, you see... it's almost like divine intervention, suddenly it is there, and it overpowers you. A cat is smoking a pipe. It is the man's pipe, it's Jon's pipe, but the cat, this cat, Garfield, is smoking the pipe... and from afar, and someplace near, but not clear... near but not clear... The man calls out... Jon calls out, he is shocked. "Garfield!" he shouts.

Garfield. The cat's name.

But, let's take a step back... let us examine this from all sides, all perspectives... and when I first came across this comic strip, I was at my father's house... a newspaper had arrived, and I picked it up for him, and brought it inside. I organized its sections for him and then, yes, the comic strip section fell out from somewhere in the middle, and landed on the kitchen floor... I picked up the paper pages and saw, up somewhere near the top of this strip... just like Jon, I was wearing an aquamarine shirt. So I thought, "Ah, interesting. I'll have to see this later." I snipped out the little comic, and held on to it... and five days later, I reexamined it... and it gripped me, I needed to find out more about this. The information I had was minimal, but enough. An orange cat named Garfield... Okay, that seemed to be the lynchpin of this whole operation, yes. Another clue... a signature in the bottom right corner, a man's name...Jim Davis.

Yes, I'm on to it for sure.
So... one: Garfield, orange cat, and two: Jim Davis, the creator of this cat. And that curiously plain man. I did not know, at the time, that his name was Jon. This strip, you see, had no mention of this man's name, and I'd never seen it before. But I had these clues; Jim Davis, Garfield. And then I saw more, I spotted the tiny copyright mark in the upper left corner. Copyright 1978 to... what is this? Copyright belongs to a... PAWS Incorporated.

I use the local library and mail services to track down the information I was looking for. Jim Davis, a cartoonist, had created a comic strip about a cat, Garfield, and a man, Jon Arbuckle. Well, from that point on, I made sure I read the Garfield comic strips, though as I read each one, as each day passed... the strips seemed to resonate with me less and less. I sent letters to PAWS Incorporated, long letters, pages upon pages... asking if Mister Jim Davis could somehow publish just the one comic, over and over again... "It would be meditative," I wrote, "the strength of that." Could you imagine? But... no response... The strips lost their power, and eventually I stopped reading, but... I did not want my perceptions diluted, so I vowed to read the pipe strip over and over again... That is what I call it, "The Pipe Strip."

The Pipe Strip.

Everything about it is perfect. I can only describe it as a miracle creation, something came together... the elements aligned... It is like the comets, the cosmic orchestra that is up there over your head... The immense, enormous void is working all for one thing, to tell you one thing. Gas and rock, and purity, and nothing. I will say this... When I see the pipe strip... and I mean every single time I look at the lines, the colors, the shapes that make up the three panel comic...

I see perfection.
Do I find perfection in many things? Some things, I would say... Some things are perfect... and this is one of them. I can look at the little tuft of hair on Jon Arbuckle's head... it is the perfect shade... The purple pipe in Garfield's mouth...
How could a mere mortal even MAKE this?

I have a theory, about Jim Davis.After copious research and, yes, of course, now we have the internet, and this information is all readily available, but... Jim Davis, he used his life experiences to influence his comic. Like I mentioned before, none of them seem to have the weight of the pipe strip. But you have to wonder about the man who is able to even, just once, create the perfect form, a literally flawless execution of art, brilliance! Just as in a ward. I think there is a spiritual element at work...

I've seen my share of bad times and... when you have something... Well, it's just... emotions, and neurons in your brain, but... something tells you that it's the truth... Truth's radiant light.

Garfield, the cat? Neurons in my brain, it's... it's harmony, you see? It... Jon and Garfield, it's truly harmony, like a... continuous, looping, everlasting harmony... The lavender chair, the brown end table, the salmon-colored wall, the fore's green carpeting, Garfield is hunched, perched... perhaps with the pipe stuck firmly between his jowls... His tail curls around. It's more than shapes too, because... I...

Okay, stay with me... I've done this experiment several times.

You take the strip. You trace only the basic elements. You can do anything, you can simplify the shapes down to just... blobs, just outlines, but it still makes sense. You can replace the blobs with magazine cutouts of other things, replace Jon Arbuckle with a car parked in a driveway sideways, cut that out of a magazine, stick it in. Replace him there in the second panel with a food processor. Okay, and then we put a picture of the planet in the third panel over Garfield...

It still works.
These are universal proportions. I don't know... how best to explain why it works, I've studied the pipe strip, and analyzed Jon and Garfield's proportions against several universal mathematical constants. E, Pi, the Golden Ratio, the Feigenbaum Constants, and so on... and it's surprising... scary even, how things align. You can take just... tiny pieces of the pipe strip, for instance, take Jon's elbow from the second panel... and take that, and project it back over Jon's entire shape in the second panel, and you'll see a near perfect Fibonacci sequence emerge. It's eerie to me... and it makes you wonder if you're in the presence of a deity, if there is some larger hand at work.

There's no doubt in my mind that Jim Davis is a smart man. Jim Davis is capable of anything to me. He is remarkable, but this is so far beyond that, I think we might see that this work of art is revered and respected in years to come. Jim Davis is possibly a new master of the craft, a... a genius of the eye; they very well may say the same things about Jim Davis in five hundred years that we say about the great philosophical and artistic masters from centuries ago... Jim Davis is a modern day Socrates, or... Da Vinci... mixing both striking visual beauty with classical, daring, unheard-of intellect...

Look, he combines these things to make profoundly simple expressions. This strip is his masterpiece... The Pipe Strip is his masterpiece... and it is a masterpiece and a marvel.I often look at Garfield's particular pose, in this strip. He is poised, and statuesque... and his cat stare is reminiscent of the fiery gazes often found in religious iconography. But still, his eyes are playful, lying somewhere between the solemn father's expression in Rembrandt's "Return of the Prodigal Son," and the coy smirk of Da Vinci's "Saint John The Baptist".
His ears stick up, signifying a peaked readiness. It's as if he could, at any moment, pounce; he is, after all, a close relative and descendant of the mighty jungle cats of Africa that could leap after prey. You could see the power drawn into Garfield's hind quarters, powerful haunches indeed.

The third panel.

And I'm just saying this now, this is just coming to me now... The third panel of the pipe strip is essentially a microcosm for the entire strip itself... All the power dynamics, the struggle for superiority, right? WHO has the pipe? WHERE is the pipe? All of that is drawn, built, layered into Garfield's iconic pose here. You can see it in the curl of his tail. Garfield's ear whiskers stick up, on end, the smoke billows, upward... drawing the eye upward... increasing the scope. I'm just... amazed... really, that after 33 years of reading, and analyzing the same comic strip, I'm able to find new dimensions. It's a testament to the work...

For six years, I delved into tobacco research, because... can a cat smoke? This is a metaphysical question... Yes, can any cat smoke? Do we know? Can just Garfield smoke? The research says no. Nicotine poisoning can kill animals, especially household pets. All it takes is the nicotine found in as little as a single cigarette. urely, Jon's pipe hold a substantial amount of tobacco, and it is true that pets living in the homes of smokers are nearly 25% more likely to develop some form of cancer... most likely due to secondhand smoke... but these are facts of smoking, its tolls on our world.

But after visiting two tobacco processing plants in Virginia and the Phillip Morris cigarette manufacturing facility, I came no closer to cracking the meaning. I was looking for any insight. A detective of a homicide case has to look at every angle, so I'm always taking apart the pipe strip. I focused on every minutiae, every detail of this strip.
Jon Arbuckle's clothing... I have replicas. I'm an expert in textiles... so, you see, this smoking thing was a hang-up for me... but it was the statement here... until...

This is key, this is the breakthrough. The pipe is not a pipe, really.

Obviously there is symbolism at work here... I saw that from the beginning, and I looked at the literal aspects of the strip to gain insight into the metaphors at play. I worked at a newspaper printing press for eighteen months, in the late 1980's. I was learning the literal to inform the gestural the subliteral, the in-between...

Jon reading this newspaper means so much more than just Jon reading the newspaper but how could you ever hope to decipher the puzzle without knowing everything there is to know about newspapers?! Okay... for example... Jon holds his newspaper up with his left hand, thumb gripping the interior. I learned that this particular grip here was the newspaper grip of nineteenth century aristocrats... and this aristocrat grip was a point of contention that influenced the decision to move forward with prohibition... in the United States, in the early twentieth century!

So Jon's hand position is much more than that, it... it is a comment on class war... and the resulting reactionary culture... but I didn't know about the aristocratic newspaper grip until I came across some microfiche archives at the printing press. It's about information. You have to take it apart.and the breakthrough on the smoking cat came late... just eight years ago, actually. "Smoking cat" is an industry term. It's what the smoking industry calls a tattletale teenager who tells on his friends after they've all tried smoking for the first time and it is actually a foreign translation, bastardization of the term "smoking rat". But the phrase was confused when secret documents went back and forth between China and America.
These documents are still secret, and the only reason I know about the term is because I know a man, my friend. Let's call him "Timothy," yeah... yes, it's a fake name, for his protection. Timothy worked for Phillip Morris for sixteen years, and he had seen the documents... and when he told me, it was an Aha moment and he said, "But how? How could this cartoonist, Jim Davis, know about this obscure term from the mid-70's, used exclusively by a few cigarette companies!?"

This is still a mystery to me... but I connect the dots by noting Jim Davis' childhood experiences on a farm. He must have seen something. What could it be?

Timothy went on to tell me there was one particular smoking cat, a boy, from... yes, Indiana, a boy named Ernie Barguckle, who became a thorn in the side of the tobacco companies for a couple of years. He did more than tattle to his parents; he and his family took legal action, and they eventually received a huge settlement payout. But that name is too similar... Ernie Barguckle... Jon Arbuckle. Jim Davis must have used this.

There's more here. Ernie Barguckle spent nearly half of that settlement money on experimental medical procedures to cure his... impotence. He was impotent. So... he was a smoking cat with a... a metaphorical pipe, that did not work. Are you starting to see the layers here? This is exciting stuff, you start to get a whole picture here, and it informs the work! It's... it's just remarkable. Jim Davis took these raw ideas, these... pieces, and he transformed them into smart social commentary that is... all so ravishingly beautiful.
I have cried. I've cried, I've cried... I've cried, cried over this piece. It just... gets in my soul. I try to explain this to people, I have... the newspaper articles about Ernie Barguckle... People have fought me on this, they don't see it, or they're close-minded, "How could a comic strip about a cat smoking a pipe mean any more than that?" But it is more... and when I feel spiritual, or start to think existentially, I still see this comic.

Here's something from 1981 that I wrote in thinking about the implications of this strip; this is just an excerpt here... there's more before and after, but this part is the essence to me... If a comic about a cat smoking a pipe can be the only thing in the universe... then maybe this is the strongest evidence for that.

"Many of you say, 'Oh, but I am not blind. I have never been blind,'... But when you truly see, you will understand just how truly blind you once were to even think it right to say you were not blind.

What does a blind man see?

Blackness.
Darkness.
Blankness.
Blank darkness.
Dark blankness.

The absence of things, quite literally NO thing. No things. Nothings.

So, you see nothing, and I bring you into the light. A cat has your pipe! You've been blind, do you understand this!?

The cat has your pipe.

You can't fully immerse yourself, you don't have the light. You don't have the radiance, the radical light, the radically radiant light of truth and truth's belonging love, and nature of light, and loving truthful radiance.

So don't be bold, and make bold statements. I know of you.

The cat has your pipe.

The.
Cat.
Has.
Your.
Pipe.

Remember that.

That writing, well... It's kind of rough... Kind of an early eighties feel... and I see that, but I'm still proud of it.
Sometimes I imagine that it is the editorial column in the newspaper Jon Arbuckle is reading. It's an exercise in recursion, it's like a vortex opens up... It's like you hold two mirrors up to each other, one is reality and the other is a cartoon strip. Let's see here... Oh yes, I must bring this up, because I think, surely, Jim Davis is again speaking on multiple levels by including the details set before us in the comic.

Notice the glimpse of Jon Arbuckle's foot in the first panel. The size of the shoe would indicate that maybe the man just has small feet... but a deeper investigation takes us to the footbinding rituals of certain Asian cultures. Inflicted usually on women for the desire of men, this practice was incredibly painful and crippling... Aha! Mister Davis is, here, presenting us with a man, or rather... "man", who engages in footbinding, a body modification for women, on top of "being without his pipe"... or impotent. This is a man facing extreme inner turmoil, the panels tell that story... subconsciously.