Public Clarification Comic Strips
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The caption says, "Correction." Dogbert sits behind a desk saying, "A recent Dilbert strip used the words 'ant farm' to describe a habitat for ants." Dogbert continues, "Lawyers have informed me that 'ant farm' is a trademark of 'Uncle Milton Industries, Inc.' They demand a public clarification." Dilbert asks, "What SHOULD we call a habitat for worthless and disgusting little creatures?" Dogbert replies, "Law school."
Boss: I hired the Dogbert public relations firm. His job is to persuade the media to write negative stories about our competitor. Dilbert: Is that ethical? Dogbert: I assure you that your competitor is doing the same thing to you. They're paying a public relations firm a fortune to steer the media toward defaming your company. Dilbert: Who did they hire to defame us. Dogbert: Probably someone awesome.
Boss: We need creative ideas for our next product. But not from you. Your ideas are awful. And don't suggest something that is already being done. That just puts your ignorance on public display. I don't want to hear any ideas that cost money or increase risk. As usual, I'll evaluate each idea by repeating it slowly while I look at your with disdain. If you come up with a good idea, I'll let you take on the project in addition to your existing work. Who wants to go first? How did I hire so many people who have no ideas? Catbert: Probably bad luck.
Dilbert looks down at a water fountain and says, "I hate this . . . When I'm really thirsty, there always seems to be some disgusting public fountain to taunt me." Dilbert continues, "No doubt this thing is crawling with cooties, and I'll have to wrap my lips around it to slurp the water out." The fountain says, "Hey, I'm not too thrilled about you, either."
Dilbert sits on the couch reading a book and Ratbert sits on the armrest. Ratbert says, "If I don't get some love and support around here, I might turn to a life of heinous crime . . ." Ratbert continues, "Or worse, I could become a certified public accountant . . ." Dilbert says, "Stop it. You're scaring me . . ." Ratbert says, "I'm good with numbers."
Dilbert asks a salesclerk in a clothing store, "Can you help me?" The woman replies, "No, I'm afraid I can't." The clerk explains, "You see, I get paid the same low hourly wage whether you buy that shirt or not. And after years in this business I've learned to despise the general public." Dilbert waves some money at the woman and says, "Please . . . I have exact change." The clerk replies, "I have no way of knowing if that's true."
The Boss stands next to an overhead projector. He points to the diagram on the screen and says, "We're taking away your individual cubicles. In the new system, you'll sign up for whatever cube is open that day." Sally and Wally are seated at a conference table. The Boss continues, "It's based on the model of public restrooms. But I call it 'Hoteling' because it increases my chances of getting tips." The Boss approaches Dilbert with a roll of note paper that looks like toilet paper and says, "Each cubicle will have a computer, a chair, and a roll of note paper . . . Take one and pass it around."
Dilbert stands in front of the Boss's desk, reading a newspaper. Dilbert says, "The pundits in the press are nailing us for shipping a keyboard with no 'Q.'" Dilbert continues, "It's a public-relations fiasco. Obviously, we need an engineering solution. I'm on the case." Dilbert and Wally sit at a table. Dilbert says, "Users could use a graphics program to draw a 'Q' in the unlikely event that they need one." Wally says, "Or we could replace the semi-colon; nobody uses them."
Dogbert, the Boss and Dilbert sit around a conference table. Dogbert says, "You shipped keyboards with no letter 'Q.' The public wants somebody to take responsibility." The Boss raises both arms and shouts, "Ooh ooh, pick me, pick me!!" Dilbert says, "Responsibility means blame." The Boss says, "Great . . . It's like the time I got burned on that 'opportunity' assignment."
Dilbert sits in an empty room wearing only his underwear. He tells Dogbert, "I always get a warm, satisfied feeling right after paying my taxes." Dilbert continues, "Sure, it's a sacrifice . . . But my money goes to support vital public services." Someone knocks on the door. Dilbert opens the door and two men in trenchcoats enter. One man says, "We're the IRS mop-up crew." The man continues, "We came to take your socks and shave sixty percent of your dog." The other man holds an electric razor. One agent shaves Dogbert while the other pulls off Dilbert's socks. Dilbert says, "Remind me to adjust my withholdings for next year."