Cracking Wise Guys
I’m Dan Piraro, the creator of the Bizarro newspaper comic, and this is my weekly blog post. The large Sunday comic above is mine, as are all of the non-cartoon comments below.
Since January 2018, the Monday-Saturday Bizarro comics have been written and drawn by my comics partner, Wayno. For more fun, check out Wayno’s weekly blog post.
And here’s this week’s ANSWER KEY to my Sunday comic’s Secret Symbols.
Fùnyìhng, Jazz Pickles!
That’s Cantonese for “welcome,” according to Google Translate. Given the accuracy of AI, however, it might actually mean something else, like “your butt is showing.”
I chose it because it kind of looks like “funnying” or “funny thing,” which are concepts Wayno and I hope our comics will deliver.
I’ve always been impressed by language, but it’s among the easiest things in the world to take for granted—until you try to learn a new one late in life.
Being raised and schooled in the self-centered US in the late 1900s, I was never encouraged to learn a second language. Most of that time was spent in Oklahoma, one of the most backward and “unwoke” states in (what used to be) the Union, so that didn’t help.
Spanish and French were offered in my high school, but they were “elective” classes, and we only got one elective. Another elective class was ART, so I chose the one with pencils, ink, paint, and papier-maché, not the one with homework and difficult jibberish puzzles.
Back then, I didn’t know a single Asian or Latino kid. Everyone in Oklahoma was a white or Black American. Before I hurried out of the state at age 18, I doubt I’d ever met anyone who spoke a second language.
Time traveling forward to now, I’ve been living in Mexico for almost ten years and working daily on my Spanish. I am accustomed to being a quick study in most things, so I figured it would be like learning to cook; I didn’t think I’d ever have my own cooking show on TV, but figured I’d fairly quickly be functional enough to pull off a dinner party.
Not true. If Spanish were food, I’d confuse, disgust, and poison my dinner guests with unrecognizable glop not fit to be consumed by humans.
After ten years of practice, when I speak Spanish to Mexicans, they just stare at me, wondering if I’m drunk or insane. When they respond, I can pick out a word or two and usually figure out what they may be saying based on context, but it’s a game of chance at best.
When Olive Oyl and I watch foreign films (with subtitles), from an Asian or Arabic country—languages that do not resemble anything we’ve studied or heard often—I suddenly realize how ridiculously complex and miraculous language is.
Fundamentally, verbal communication is nothing but random noises fired from our facial orifices at the speed of hurricane winds. How anyone can make sense of anything communicated in this way is a miracle.
And yet, if you shoot those vocal ejaculations in the direction of a human baby for a few years, it effortlessly begins to understand and replicate them. WTF?! Are babies that much smarter than a man in his sixties?
English is said to be among the more difficult languages to learn because it has so many “exceptions” to phonetic “rules” (which should more accurately be called tendencies). Still, it was so easy to pick up, I don’t even remember learning it.
Spanish is reputed to be easier, but understanding it is as difficult for me as glancing at a pile of Legos on the floor and instantly telling you how many there are, like Rain Man.
Now think about reading. Look at written Arabic or Mandarin, and try to imagine how anyone makes sense of those seemingly random scribbles, much less can comprehend complex, nuanced concepts from them in a split second. Consider how quickly you’re converting the chicken scratches on this screen right now into hurricane-fast mouth noises, and comprehending my thoughts! It’s astounding.
Why am I going on about this? Because when you experience a miracle, it’s hard to keep it to yourself.
Another miracle will be how I continue to support myself now that my cartoon income is almost gone.
One way I’m trying is with my subscription creative writing project, The Naked Cartoonist. If you like my blog posts, you’ll love the articles I write for NC. They’re deeper, funnier, and I include a lot of comics for emphasis. And, unlike these posts, I even prufread them for tpyos before posting!
It’s only $5 for two articles a month, which goes a little further in Mexico than in the US, so Olive Oyl and I will use it responsibly and stretch it as far as it can go.
Yes! I want to buy you and O2 a plate of rice and beans!
Thank you so much. Your generosity humbles me.
Time now to explore the mysterious scribblings of my talented comics partner, Wayno, and chuckle at the miracle of humor…
I remember a time when confession booths didn’t have running water.
Or, maybe the “president” will dress up like a “doctor” and heal you with his glowing hands.
At least she’s working in the right department.
If there were giant bird-people dressed in human clothing, I’d spend more time at the beach.
But that amnesia drug they give you always makes me forget this lesson; or maybe I just want to forget it.
My favorite poet is Dr. Seuss. Everyone since then has been too lazy to bother rhyming.
Here’s where we’re drawing the line this week, Jazz Pickles. Thanks for using your miraculous scribble-deciphering skills on us. If you’d like to help us keep doing this, here are some more ways. We’ll love you like a hurricane.
The Naked Cartoonist…My every-other-week creative-writing subscription service.
Limited edition, signed & numbered prints of BIZARRO CARTOONS, and some originals!
Bizarro TIP JAR …One-time or repeating. Your choice!
WAYNO’S TIP JAR …One-time or repeating. Your choice!
My (free) graphic novel in progress, PEYOTE COWBOY.
Watch my pitch video and become a supporter of Peyote Cowboy here.
Super fun BIZARRO SWAG from ComicsKingdom, including our 2026 Bizarro wall calendar. (ALL the comics are still funny, no matter what month it is!)