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Eustace Tilley Contest: Could You Be the Next Rea Irvin?

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Perhaps not, but it’s certainly worth a try. Click through to Boing Boing for details of the magazine’s new online competition, the results of which are sure to be a monocled, lepidopteran hoot.

The contest is being held on Flickr rather than newyorker.com; the image specs and rules appear there and also here. The group has 32 members so far, including me.

Over on Flog!, by the way, Fantagraphics maestro Eric Reynolds makes a sly reference in his report on the contest by heading his post “Johnny Ryan, are you reading?” I shall explain: Ryan, author of the singularly disgusting yet strangely mesmerizing Angry Youth Comix, included a nearsighted, um, awe-inducing character he called The New Yorker in a recent edition. I will append only three very tame panels from the storyline after the jump; pursue this further at your own risk.


Click to enlarge; reprinted with permission. Caveat lector!



Oddly, I can’t think of any other comment besides “neat.” Pathetic of me, for sure.

But I also really wanted to comment.

Furthermore, apparently, I believe this to be worth having typed. So, indeed, neat.

This reminds me, in a roundabout way,that last night I discovered (hopefully un-Columbus-like, for the first time) another entry for your assemblage of places the New Yorker typeface appears: the chapter titles on the DVD of James Coburn’s (stupid) movie, The President’s Analyst. It’s worth a look, but the movie isn’t….

Jarrett: Boy, it’s been about 15 years since I tried to watch The President’s Analyst (I gave up in despair after 25 minutes). I’ll try to get ahold of the DVD so I can do a vidcap or something. Thanks for writing in!

Martin: I’ll save you further exposure to the radioactive stupidity of TPA, if you like, and just send you some screen grabs. Just tell me where to send them.

How wonderful! I’m woefully behind on my screen grab technology. I’ll send an e-mail out right now.

Kind of sad that Rea Irvin is only remembered today for this one image. He did a lot of work not only for the New Yorker but also for other magazines, as well as a comic strip called “The Smythes.”

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