I was driving my spawn home from tae kwon do, absentmindedly answering Harrison’s questions about “why is that dog munching on that dead squirrel?” when I happened to find myself driving behind a grey pickup truck. And my knuckles grew white from their tightening grip around the wheel as I saw this on his rear windshield:
What kind of god would allow this? It’s sick. It’s tacky. It’s pornography for the stupid.
Calvin’s non-conformity is what makes him special. Matched only by the non-conformity of his “creator”, Bill Watterson, who bravely eschewed each and every attempt to dilute the impact of the art form in which his masterpiece was created. And to picture Calvin kneeling in subservience to another, somewhat less witty, less relatable fictional character should make you sick.
Why do people put shit like this on their cars anyhow? The person who did this engaged willingly in a process whereby he became somehow aware that this kitschy eyesore existed, then felt the need to convert that nauseatingly ill-conceived epiphany into committing actual money for it. Then, taking that…thing…and putting it on his truck. And there it sits. Every day. I think it’s Fascist. I think this is tantamount to wearing a fucking Klan hood in public. What was the thought process? And is there no one in this man’s life who understands how sick this message is? Kowtow, Calvin.
It’s like this little piece of nonsense someone came up with once upon a time:
The last panel is black and white. Get it? Don’t worry. If you haven’t seen it before, it’s fucking fake.