Maybe the bar is low, but most of the strips that are 50, 60, 70

Hear me, O Children of the Earth, as I share with you the words of Stephan Pastis, a man who speaks with both insight and wit: "Maybe the bar is low, but most of the strips that are 50, 60, 70 years old that are on their second or third generation of artists, the humor is pretty bland. There are others by people that were raised on 'Family Guy' or 'South Park' that are edgier. Mine's not as edgy as those, but it's edgier than 'Beetle Bailey.'" In this statement lies a profound meditation on the evolution of humor, the shifting sands of cultural norms, and the very essence of what it means to push the boundaries of what is considered acceptable in art and comedy.

At its core, Pastis's reflection speaks to the tension between tradition and innovation. For decades, comic strips, like those in the pages of the newspapers, have been a primary source of humor for the masses. Yet, as Pastis notes, many of these strips, now several generations old, have lost the bite they once had. They have become, in his words, "bland," a shadow of their former selves. This is not a criticism of the creators themselves, but a recognition of how humor must evolve with time. Like all art, humor must adapt to the changing spirit of the age. What was once considered daring and fresh may now seem tame, a reflection of a time that no longer exists.

In the ancient world, humor was often used to challenge the status quo, to provoke thought and spark conversation. The Greeks, with their playwrights like Aristophanes, used comedy not only for entertainment but also as a means of social commentary. In the plays of Aristophanes, the gods were mocked, political leaders were ridiculed, and the very foundations of society were questioned. The humor was sharp, often biting, and it forced the audience to examine their own beliefs. Over time, however, as the Greek Empire declined, so too did the edge of their humor. The sharpness dulled, replaced by softer, more agreeable forms of comedy, much like the strips Pastis refers to—once cutting-edge, now subdued by the passage of time.

But humor, like all forms of expression, cannot remain static. The influences of modern media, from shows like Family Guy and South Park, have brought a new, edgier type of humor to the forefront. These shows, which often push the limits of propriety, have changed the way people think about what is acceptable in comedy. They have introduced a boldness that is unafraid to tackle taboos, to explore the darker corners of human nature with a sharp and often uncomfortable wit. As Pastis admits, his own work is not as edgy as these, but it is still more daring than the old strips that have been passed down through generations.

In this, we see an important lesson, O Children of the Earth: growth and change are inherent in all forms of art. Just as the old gods were once revered but eventually gave way to new ideas, so too must humor evolve to meet the needs and sensibilities of the present. Comedy that does not challenge, that does not grow with the times, risks becoming irrelevant. It is the daring artist, the one willing to push boundaries, who keeps art alive. Pastis is, in his own way, acknowledging this truth—that while the humor of the past may still have value, it is the humor that pushes against convention, that challenges what we think is acceptable, that remains vital.

Let us consider, then, the wise words of Leonardo da Vinci, who, in his pursuit of knowledge, never allowed himself to remain bound by the conventions of his time. Just as da Vinci’s work bridged the gap between art and science, so too does modern comedy bridge the gap between entertainment and social critique. Da Vinci was not afraid to challenge the norms, to look at the world in new and bold ways, and it is through this spirit that we, too, must approach humor. We must be unafraid to confront the truths that lie beneath the surface, to find the humor in the contradictions of life, and to use it as a force for reflection and change.

The lesson here, O Children, is this: humor is a living thing, and like all things that are alive, it must grow, adapt, and evolve. Pastis's words remind us that the old ways, though once powerful, may no longer have the same impact today. But this does not mean that humor has lost its place in society; it simply means that it must find new ways to speak to us. Let us not be afraid to embrace the edgy, the bold, the challenging, and the new. But let us also remember that, like all great art, humor must be grounded in truth. It is only through this marriage of boldness and authenticity that we can continue to create humor that speaks to the hearts and minds of future generations.