from
Pogo
books by
Walt Kelly

Churchy:
We could of been talkin’ ’bout life an’ ever’thin’ else.

Porky:
If you talks ’bout life an’ ever’thin’ else...the ever’thin’ else gotta be death ...That what we gone talk ’bout?

Churchy:
Death!? Heck, no!

Porky:
Wull...you can’t have one with out you got t’other.

Churchy:
Seem to me that makes life a perty risky business.

Churchy:
Dag nab! I thunk us’d have a nice day of quarrelin’ an’ shoutin’ an’ you is spoilt the whole discussion... You is got me to thinkin’...

Owl:
S’pose he do keep quiet. How’s he know it’s a bona fide secret? All the worl’ might know! Test it! Tell it! If folks is shocked or sickened, he’ll know it was a secret.

Churchy:
They ain’t nothin’ worse nor un-ignited love...’cept fried parsnips an’ coddled watermillion.

Albert:
Addled turtle is extremefully loathful too...

Churchy:
Any kind of cooked turtle upset me somethin’ awful.

Churchy:
Haugh.. Some folks got all the taste an’ finer sensibilities of a can of warm bait.

Churchy:
By jing! My Aunt Moomie was such a looker she could outstrip any theatricycle queen of today!

Bat:
Even without the modern zipper?

Albert:
It’s enough to make a man think.

Owl:
You’re right! Desprit measures ought to be took!

Reggie:
I wouldn’t drop ’im a line if he’d fell into the briny with the fo’c’sle grog...

Porky:
Awake! Awake! Four a.m! Christmas is at hand an’ I brung you a flower I been savin’ since early June—tain’t nothin’ to kiss my hand for but—

Pogo:
I been waitin’ up for you. Grab aholt of these packages. We’s gonna sneak up on Wiley Catt’s an’ Sarcophagus Macabre’s and ol’ Simple J. Malarkey’s hangout, leave ’em outside the door an’ holler “Merry Christmas.”

Porky:
An’ after we hollers...then what?

Pogo:
Naturally, we’ll run.

Porky:
Phumph .. I admit it’s a highly embroidered li’l’ gesture .. Think it’ll do anybody any good?

Pogo:
Oh...mebbe jes’ only us.

Dear Children:

For some time now I have been meaning to write you and explain about morality in our time. We have recently discovered it, much to the chagrin of our peace of mind. It seems that the fast buck has been even more fleet of foot than the normally slippery brain, and in the race between the two the cerebral contestant has come in a bad second.

Churchy:
I is had enough of you, Albert, to last me ’til the peaner butter season...

Seminole Sam:
[...] I’m going to offer my “short-cut to complete amnesia” to both political parties to give to the voters.

Beauregard:
But a election is comin’ up... Them parties wants folks to remember all the good things they’s did.

Sam:
Brother! That ain’t never neither of their problems.

Albert:
[...] How do you spell “to-whom-it-may-concern”? Is “toohoomit” one word or two?

Beauregard:
“Mayconcern” is one word... “Too hoomit” is two words... Any fool knows that.

Albert:
But I asked a partickler fool, not any fool.

Beauregard:
Don’t call me no partickler fool!

Albert:
Okay, you ain’t so partickler... Have it your way.

Owl:
Trouble with you is you don’t use your brains... I’m usin’ mine constant!

Churchy:
I uses mine only in case of fire.

Owl:
From now on I’m dedicatin’ myself to thinkin’ for others... I’ll put my extra brain power to work... Charge big fees for formin’ opinions, decidin’ when to sneeze, etc., for busy executives.

Pogo:
You’ll be too busy to think for your own self.

Owl:
Hah! I’ll hire a research service for that... They’ll poll the pulse of all that’s fraught an’ give me the averages.

Pogo:
Only thing I don’t get is why don’t he do his own thinkin’?

Churchy:
How can he afford it at his prices?... He can get it done much cheaper on the outside.

Pogo:
But how could you find the conscience to do it?

Owl:
Easy... I pointed out to my conscience that this plan would make us a cool million an’ we’d both retire.

Owl:
Oh, it’s you! Talcum powder in a water pistol don’t seem to be the ultimate weapon, do it?

Owl:
First I’ll land an’ establish peace an’ law an’ order.

Churchy:
But s’pose they already got all that?

Owl:
Got all that? You mean modern peace? Up-to-date peace with all the latest weapons to protect it an’ all?

Churchy:
Or the ol’ fashioned kind.

Owl:
In what category was that there?

Churchy:
It was very simple... Only one side had the ever-lovin’ peaceful weapons.

Porky:
And as Shakespere said: “Denmark ain’t alone.”

Churchy:
It takes more’n one to start peace.

Porky:
He tole me we ain’t got a free press in this country... “Why, them papers costs up to a dime apiece...” he says, “Call that free? In my country,” he says, “there’s just one paper. Not a lot of opposin’ views... A man knows what to think...” “Yeh,” I says, “but even so they charges money for it...” “True,” he says, “but you got to remember, money ain’t worth as much in my country...” Well, I seed he had me an’ so I said good-bye.

Miz Beaver:
You can’t trust men... They say this an’ say that an’ if any of it’s the truth it’s prob’ly a lie.

We have had constant revolution since the year One because we like to start anew, our way. Having fouled up one home, we leave our litter behind to write a brave new constitution in a land far off and considerably upwind from the dump.

But now, through lack of space, we have to face each other in the dark and uneasy environs of the familiar. So it occurs to the cartoonist that the easiest war is the one in the home where railing males and females, family bound, can relieve the tedium with the age-old fight of love.

Albert:
How do you know when you’re an adult?

Pogo:
It’s largely a matter of lookin’ back .... and not countin’ your mistakes.

Pogo:
How come we’s the kind of people what allus gotta walk home from a boat ride?

Porky:
Pie’s good for you... Cleans up warts an’ all.

Pogo:
It’s my favorite vitamin.

Albert:
We’re gonna secede and start a new country.

Pogo:
Why in the worl’?

Albert:
So things will be more equal for all an’ we’ll all share more better.

Pogo:
In that case I better eat the other half of my sammitch afore you shares the whole thing complete an’ independent...

Porky:
Law an’ justice ain’t always compatibobble. In a lot of cases it’s law vs justice.

Beauregard:
I’m havin’ a time with the new anthem for our secessionary land.

Church:
You is come to the right spot; listen...

Beauregard:
... Gackscraggle! A man can’t secede from his beloved Fatherland with a anthem like that.

Church:
No, huh?

Beauregard:
It ain’t got no patriotics.

Pogo (sings):

Pogo (sings):

Fun, like God, is declared dead every once in a while. Every movement—the new left, the new right, the new middle, the new church—should have its own court jester. If he can teach each of the militants to laugh at itself it would be useful, if only for that distant day when there would be nobody else to act as target. The apparent objective of any of these movements seems to be the complete obliteration of all other dedicated thinkers.

As our people move in all directions with great grim purpose the safety valve of humor seems to be missing. Humor is not escape. Sleep is escape. Humor is relief. The laugh of finding out the other fellow is funny because he is the enemy is not enough.

Frump:
That’s the way it is, darling ... We can always deliver a miracle ... but would we want to live with it? I could clean up this alley, but how would we find our way around in the dark?

Perhaps you have wondered over the years why most scientists who invent inhuman devices or human machines are usually described as “mad.” The reason they are mad is that they have such a devilish time nailing their inventions together. Each keeps hammering himself on the thumbs. And, inasmuch as such a genius is all thumbs anyway, this gives him a lot to be mad about.

“How do you start a thing like this?”

“It ain’t how it starts, it’s how it winds up.”

Deacon:
Simple! First, you found a church, then you find a God that fits it ~~~ If it turns out that the God doesn’t fit in a while ~~~ BOOM! he’s dead and you advertise for a new one. After all, if a man invents a church, who should be in charge?