CAILLEY:

You could say we’re writing this column because really nothing cool happened this week worth arguing about.

You could say it’s because Tony and I are lazy asses who just like to look at cartoons as part of our “research.” And you’d be right.

But we would say this PCP is by far the most divisive subject we have come across. Just uttering those three powerful words is more than enough to spark a heated debate from all corners of the office as we scream our points while simultaneously trying to edit our stories. (How we put a paper together every day, I’ll never know.)

So here it is: Is the Herald cartoon “Twenty Pound Baby” pure genius or the stupidest thing ever?

If there’s one word to describe “Twenty Pound Baby,” I wouldn’t be able to find one. I could say “genius,” but it’s so great one word doesn’t quite do it. It’s super-fucking genius.

See, in only three, short, beautiful panels, we witness the magic of nothing at all.

For example: Monday’s cartoon, depicting stick-figure Timmy cheerfully on his way to class. Why? He’s going to learn fractions.

See, that’s hilarious right there. Who the fuck is happy to learn about fractions?

But then the third panel transforms the whole strip with an abrupt message that perfectly captures the least likely event that could follow such an admirable effort: “There were no survivors.”

See? Total hilarity. That’s the beauty of “Twenty Pound Baby”: When we’re treated to three panels of the two stick-figures staring at each other with the look of uttermost horror and disgust at the bloody pile of stick-drawing before them like in Tuesday’s paper, we’re obviously going to think that we’re looking at something totally fucked up.

And we are. And that’s why is great: there is no joke. Each strip continually lacks a punchline, and that one move makes it funnier than any possible joke with a punchline.

But I also think that to truly get the ever-so-sly humor, you need to be just as fucked up and perverted as the comic itself. How else can you explain why it’s funny to see Simon and Timmy start out looking at a goldfish and wind up in handcuffs?

It’s the demented stuff in between that we think of thanks to our godforsaken minds. That might explain why our editor in chief can’t stop raving about it.

And hey, it’s a hell of a lot better than the “Graph Giraffe,” OK?

TONY:

I don’t like Twenty Pound Baby. It’s nothing personal, I assure you. I just don’t see the humor in it. I’m sure Stephen Tyler Conrad is a fine, upstanding gentleman, and he most likely is rather funny in person. I’m sure we would have a very nice conversation together. His comic, however, does not appeal to me in the slightest.

Let’s take the TPB from the Tuesday, Oct. 6, issue of the Herald, for example. Each of the three frames are the exact same, with two shocked figures covered in blood staring down at a bloody corpse. Now I don’t like to familiarize myself with dead, bleeding bodies, but I have nothing against them. They can even be funny at times, depending on the context. Yet, I don’t understand what makes this particular instance humorous.

Maybe, if there were some words to describe it to me. Nope. How about some progression to show how this unfortunate soul died, helping to explain the humor? No luck there either. It’s common knowledge that a joke isn’t funny if you have to explain it. I think Conrad took this point a little too far.

Sure, this example is an extreme instance, but all the TPBs are just as puzzling. Even when there are words and progressive action, I’m just as dumbfounded as the aforementioned bloody figures. The only thing I find amusing is Conrad’s obsession with tanks, cannons and other similarly destructive devices. Seriously, if I had the time or mathematical aptitude or actually cared, I’m sure the percentage of how many times these things appear is quite high.

Yet, somehow I’m in the minority with this opinion. I guess I’m just not highbrow or lowbrow — or whatever brow it would be — enough to get the anti-humor. Maybe the comedy is just too heavy for my mind to take. Maybe I just need to start smaller with Five or Ten Pound Baby and work my way up. Or maybe it’s just not funny. It’s also not grammatically correct. It should be “Twenty-Pound Baby.” So take that, Conrad.

The sad thing is the amount of words I’ve devoted to TPB in this PCP alone is more than all the TPBs combined. I think I’ll subject myself to “Two and a Half Man” to cheer myself up … yeah, Twenty Pound Baby is that unfunny.