Pulitzer Prize Winning Cartoonist

After painstaking deliberation, deep thought and much eraser gnawing (cynics might say dithering), every cartoonist in the free world weighed in on the Afghanistan war escalation last week. But it's one thing to draw up a plan, quite another to execute it. Pat Oliphant delivered a spectacularly expansive and daunting mountainous quagmire-scape. Steve Sack's grim reaper counted down to an arbitrary flag-draped deadline. And Adam Zyglis re-raised a wartime classic, planting the president's buildup banner on some pretty shaky ground.

Florence Parry Heide, a prolific children's book author best known for her droll illustrated picture book "The Shrinking of Treehorn" and her ability to convey in her writing what it is like to be a child, has died. She was 92. Heide died in her sleep Monday at her home in Kenosha, Wis., said Judith Heide Gilliland, one of her daughters. A self-described late bloomer, Heide didn't become a published author until her late 40s when the illustrated picture book she co-wrote — "Maximilian," about a mouse that wished it could fly like a bird — came out in 1967.

Forget the 5-cent cigar -- what this country needs is more high-level international meetings on intractable and divisive long-term problems. Americans were riveted by the global warming summit, the president's appearance at the United Nations and the G-20 economic forum. OK, not so riveted, but cartoonists took note. Rob Rogers expressed his hometown hosting pride, Signe Wilkinson reminded us of the rough international company we keep, and I went ballistic over rising tides. Say ... don't cigars emit greenhouse gases anyway?

So editorial cartooning is a solidly old-school medium. But in between penciling, inking and erasing, we blog, tweet, scan, clone and otherwise electronically alter. And we try to keep our characters up to date. Jeff Danziger's texting-while-strafing piece is a killer. Jim Morin is no hack, as his schoolboy e-warrior demonstrates. And Scott Stantis doesn't phone it in, calling out the Obama/Biden administration for its oh-so-Bush/Cheney tendencies. I guess cartoonists draw both Dubya and Obama with oversized ears for a reason.

So editorial cartooning is a solidly old-school medium. But in between penciling, inking and erasing, we blog, tweet, scan, clone and otherwise electronically alter. And we try to keep our characters up to date. Jeff Danziger's texting-while-strafing piece is a killer. Jim Morin is no hack, as his schoolboy e-warrior demonstrates. And Scott Stantis doesn't phone it in, calling out the Obama/Biden administration for its oh-so-Bush/Cheney tendencies. I guess cartoonists draw both Dubya and Obama with oversized ears for a reason.

There is no more polarizing hot-button issue than what to do about climate change, and nobody closer to the debate's frozen-ground zero than European cartoonists this week. Norway's Herb took the bear's-eye-view. The Netherlands' Van Dam drew the definition of dithering. And Denmark's own Pep penned a poignant (what else?) sunflower. If Jyllands- Posten, in Pep's credit line, rings a bell, that's the paper that published the Mohammed cartoons whose riotous aftermath no doubt contributed in some way to global warming.

This week, cartoonists ate, drank, gave thanks, exchanged recipes on making mincemeat of turkeys, and ignored Grandma's pleas to maintain family harmony by avoiding politics. Prompted by Rome's World Summit on Food Security, Marco de Angelis poignantly illustrated that food may be a weapon but not vice versa. I lamented the lunacy of a planet of want, and Joe Heller ruefully marked just how little humankind has evolved. Artists are grateful for the basics: food, water, shelter, compassion and irony.

While stateside scribblers were throwing the book at Sarah Palin, how did our Far Eastern counterparts present our president? Singapore's Heng used a hoop metaphor for his sideline line drawing of the disarmed globe-trotter in chief. (Watch out, though -- Barack's a lefty, remember?) China Daily's Luojie treated Obama as a sweet-talking, sweet-hawking street huckster, while Guangzhou's Jianping Fan served up kinder and gentler pie-in-the-sky. Of course, these are only the sanitized, officially approved cartoons.

In an age in which everything is shoutfest fodder, is there any more emotionally charged issue than the Lower Manhattan relocation of a moderate Islamic cultural center that was first established before the World Trade Center? (Oh, OK, "ground zero mosque" is so much catchier.) Nine years on, cartoonists freely evoke 9/11 imagery that would've sparked an American-style fatwa back then. Rob Rogers let fly with a first-rate defense of the 1st Amendment. Mike Lester put provocative final words in the mouths of terrorism victims.

Florence Parry Heide, a prolific children's book author best known for her droll illustrated picture book "The Shrinking of Treehorn" and her ability to convey in her writing what it is like to be a child, has died. She was 92. Heide died in her sleep Monday at her home in Kenosha, Wis., said Judith Heide Gilliland, one of her daughters. A self-described late bloomer, Heide didn't become a published author until her late 40s when the illustrated picture book she co-wrote — "Maximilian," about a mouse that wished it could fly like a bird — came out in 1967.

Paul Conrad, whose fiercely confrontational editorial cartoons made him one of the leading political provocateurs of the second half of the 20th century and who helped push the Los Angeles Times to national prominence, has died. He was 86. Conrad died early Saturday of natural causes, surrounded by his family at his home in Rancho Palos Verdes, said his son David. With an unyielding liberal stance rendered in savage black and white, Conrad both thrilled and infuriated readers for more than 50 years.

In an age in which everything is shoutfest fodder, is there any more emotionally charged issue than the Lower Manhattan relocation of a moderate Islamic cultural center that was first established before the World Trade Center? (Oh, OK, "ground zero mosque" is so much catchier.) Nine years on, cartoonists freely evoke 9/11 imagery that would've sparked an American-style fatwa back then. Rob Rogers let fly with a first-rate defense of the 1st Amendment. Mike Lester put provocative final words in the mouths of terrorism victims.

There is no more polarizing hot-button issue than what to do about climate change, and nobody closer to the debate's frozen-ground zero than European cartoonists this week. Norway's Herb took the bear's-eye-view. The Netherlands' Van Dam drew the definition of dithering. And Denmark's own Pep penned a poignant (what else?) sunflower. If Jyllands- Posten, in Pep's credit line, rings a bell, that's the paper that published the Mohammed cartoons whose riotous aftermath no doubt contributed in some way to global warming.

After painstaking deliberation, deep thought and much eraser gnawing (cynics might say dithering), every cartoonist in the free world weighed in on the Afghanistan war escalation last week. But it's one thing to draw up a plan, quite another to execute it. Pat Oliphant delivered a spectacularly expansive and daunting mountainous quagmire-scape. Steve Sack's grim reaper counted down to an arbitrary flag-draped deadline. And Adam Zyglis re-raised a wartime classic, planting the president's buildup banner on some pretty shaky ground.

This week, cartoonists ate, drank, gave thanks, exchanged recipes on making mincemeat of turkeys, and ignored Grandma's pleas to maintain family harmony by avoiding politics. Prompted by Rome's World Summit on Food Security, Marco de Angelis poignantly illustrated that food may be a weapon but not vice versa. I lamented the lunacy of a planet of want, and Joe Heller ruefully marked just how little humankind has evolved. Artists are grateful for the basics: food, water, shelter, compassion and irony.

While stateside scribblers were throwing the book at Sarah Palin, how did our Far Eastern counterparts present our president? Singapore's Heng used a hoop metaphor for his sideline line drawing of the disarmed globe-trotter in chief. (Watch out, though -- Barack's a lefty, remember?) China Daily's Luojie treated Obama as a sweet-talking, sweet-hawking street huckster, while Guangzhou's Jianping Fan served up kinder and gentler pie-in-the-sky. Of course, these are only the sanitized, officially approved cartoons.

Scrap the cartoon clunkers about cash for cars, the sophomoric scribbles about Bill Clinton rescuing young women, and the mountains of (news)paperwork on healthcare and consider this triumvirate on the current state of the axis-formerly-known-as-evil. In North Korea, Signe Wilkinson takes a little shot at Kim Jong Il's stature. Petar Pismestrovic mulls Iranian mullahs and their string of electoral successes. And with U.S. troops departed from Iraq's urban areas, Pat Bagley's French, er, freedom joke is on us. -- Joel Pett Joel Pett is the Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist for the Lexington Herald-Leader.

We cartoonists know our rights, so we show up for healthcare town halls armed with mighty pens, trying our best to do dead-on killer stuff. To the paranoid protesting pack, Tony Auth's South Lawn playground has grim reaper-cussions. Matt Bors' playful paraphrase of an apocalyptic aphorism comes to an unexpectedly upbeat conclusion. And my commander-in-chief executioner used a euthanasia euphemism to terminate old and tired discordant coverage. -- Joel Pett Joel Pett is the Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist for the Lexington Herald-Leader in Kentucky.

The commentary crowd consulted crystal balls, Tarot cards, voodoo dolls and psychics to divine meaning from the off-off-year elections. Matt Davies read the "tea party" leaves and dogged the GOP for its grand old tricks. Gary Varvel gazed into his magic 8-ball and saw B-ball outpolling democracy. I tried to take the long view on the president's misfortune tellers, but somehow I doubt anyone's listening. Oh well. Back to the old Ouija board. -- Joel Pett Joel Pett is the Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist of the Lexington Herald-Leader.

Whether expressing ex parte advice, exposing excesses or just exorcising exasperation, who better for editorialists to exploit than ex-presidents? Rob Rogers' Dick Cheney exhaustively exercises external pressure. Scott Stantis exhumes an (expletive deleted) ex-prez to excoriate Barack Obama. And Tony Auth's art exhibits Lyndon Johnson in an exhortation to exercise extreme caution. -- Joel Pett Joel Pett is the Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist for the Lexington Herald-Leader.