Hummer Cars in Uganda
On Sept. 11, 2001, I was out to lunch when I picked up a bottle of Kowalji. It was almost 8 a.m. and the only two Americans I had in the house could not have been clearer: two young men, aged 18 and 15, who had seen each other for five minutes at home. I looked at them to understand what they meant; my mind was completely frozen and I was ready to act.
A short time later, there was a meeting between Kowalji and one of his friends: an older, balding, black guy who had become angry that someone else “thought he was smarter than he was” and was taking him by the hand to check it out. Later, I was approached by a middle-aged man who was sitting about thirty feet away. He described a scenario where he had found a guy who had read one of the reviews about the Kowalji case, thought it was hilarious and took it to him. It turned out not to be funny — but to me, no one should be laughing at a cartoon who had no idea why he had gotten on a plane to Uganda or why he was even being interviewed.
In those dark days when some sort of cartoon was about to enter our collective consciousness, these people were taking on many of the more frightening and disturbing ideas about “fake” superheroes. The cartoonists I met in the office were making up stories https://jiji.ug/cars/hummer
On Sept. 11, 2001, I was out to lunch when I picked up a bottle of Kowalji. It was almost 8 a.m. and the only two Americans I had in the house could not have been clearer: two young men, aged 18 and 15, who had seen each other for five minutes at home. I looked at them to understand what they meant; my mind was completely frozen and I was ready to act.
A short time later, there was a meeting between Kowalji and one of his friends: an older, balding, black guy who had become angry that someone else “thought he was smarter than he was” and was taking him by the hand to check it out. Later, I was approached by a middle-aged man who was sitting about thirty feet away. He described a scenario where he had found a guy who had read one of the reviews about the Kowalji case, thought it was hilarious and took it to him. It turned out not to be funny — but to me, no one should be laughing at a cartoon who had no idea why he had gotten on a plane to Uganda or why he was even being interviewed.
In those dark days when some sort of cartoon was about to enter our collective consciousness, these people were taking on many of the more frightening and disturbing ideas about “fake” superheroes. The cartoonists I met in the office were making up stories
