Nerding Day: 101 Uses for a Dead Cube

In 1981, a man with a suspicious amount of dead cats published the humor and comedy book 101 Uses for a Dead Cat. That very same year, that very same fucking year, two Johns rushed out a Rubik's Cube parody of it. It was a toilet fire. If you were to adapt 101 Uses For a Dead Cube into a movie, it would be a six second film about a doctor carving into a corpse and saying, "This tumor is what made Professor Penis Trap the world's worst clown."

Maybe they thought it would be easy. As you can see by the front and back cover, John (Zales or Stevens) was like, "What if a Rubik's Cube was best friends with a cat and what if a Rubik's Cube was best friends with a cat? Just 99 more like that and we're done!" And by calling the cube "The" instead of "Rubik's," John masterfully sidestepped any trademark violations. So, again, just 99 more The Cube ideas and John was done.

Anyone who's ever written anything knows this was never going to work. 101 Rubik's Cube gags is not a realistic goal. If you wrote for Saturday Night Live, this would be like going into work on Friday and hearing, "Christopher Walken can't make it. Our new host is the guy who regurgitates billiard balls, also the show needs to be five days long." These are not cartoons. These are a desperate clock counting down to self-destruction, and special thanks to reader Chris Pallace for cursing me with it. Because of this, I won't be reviewing this as art. Instead, I'm going to be using my prestigious Bachelor of Science degree in Art to get inside John's head. I'm calling it...

Day One

I'm starting a project that can't miss. It's the retread joke of a cat murderer mixed with a sensation sweeping the nation. John and I, John, are going to make so much goddamn money. All I need is the perfect opener. Something relatable and clever. So people will say, "That's hilarious but it also makes sense-- you could do that with a discarded Rubik's The Cube!" Oh, I've got it:

Day Two

"Kid Pulls Cube From Pie" didn't really land with my family. My wife's exact words were "What? Is this all you did yesterday?" This might be a little bit harder than I thought. You look at a cube and it seems like there are things you can do with it. Crafts or, you know, projects. But all they really do is stack. A little house of Rubik's Cubes isn't funny. Even if you had a billion of them... wait, that's it. YOU COULD TAKE THOSE BILLIONS OF CUBES AND CREATE A CUBE AMONG THE STARS holy shit I've got to get this on the page while it's fresh in my head.

Day Three

I think a good pattern will be one profound one, one funny one, one clever one, but it will be best if they're all a bit of each. A pop culture reference, only elevated. Like Chewbacca playing tennis. God I wish this was a tennis book. Maybe those little alligator shirts? And the cubes are wearing them? No, no... it's almost there, but it needs something. Something unexpected.

Day Eight

I'm out of ideas. I'm so out of ideas I went to my wife for help. She told me, and I quote, "It's not too late to throw this cube shit in the trash." Well, congratulations, honey. You just made the book. And you've made a powerful enemy in Cube:

Day Nine

Aside from "Find a Big Cube and Drop It On Your Wife," I'm not sure I've done any simple, practical ones. We should have a few of those in the book just so the premise doesn't get lost. Maybe... break the cubes into parts and use them as kitty litter? No, that's stupid. I'm sure I can top it.

Day Eleven

Maybe I was too quick to dismiss the idea of stacking the cubes into a little house. There might be something there.

Day Twelve

The image of a snake eating a cube popped into my head, but I need a reason for it. A story behind it? How would it find one? Why would it eat it? Wait, do street Rubik's Cube vendors exist? If so, let's say one snuck into a zoo. During an anaconda escape? And it thought they were mice? Oh my god, could it be that simple?

Day Thirteen

I have been staring at a blank page for over ten hours. Going through cuberty? Is that something? Only with a cube? No, TWO cubes. Oh hell yeah, I'm still in this.

Day Fourteen

My wife, very angry and distant, told me to give up this miserable Sisyphean quest. Well, guess what, sweetheart? I looked that up and you accidentally wrote a cube cartoon.

Day Sixteen

I took a break today to go to the beach. A woman caught me staring at her. She had a full figure and knives for feet. Through sun and chair happenstance she became cube before my eyes. It must mean something. It must.

Day Seventeen

I went through an entire pen writing and crossing out the words "Kitty Litter" and "Little House." I have over 80 to go and I can't do this anymore. It's agony. It's literal torture. Wait. Say that again, ME.

Day Eighteen

Cubes. Ayoobs. Byoobs. Boobs! BOOBS!

Day Nineteen

I guess you could shut a parrot the fuck up with a Cube if you were trying to read a Cube magazine. I'm surprised I hadn't Cubed of this one before.

Day Twenty

Okay, joke time. Joke time. What's a funny job? Dildo salesman? No, filthy dildo salesman. Perfect, but how do I make it Cube?

Day Twenty-Three

Took a break to watch TV and saw a commercial about sending food to starving people. I said to my wife, "It'd be pretty funny if someone sent them a Cube." She walked out and drove away. But while she was gone it gave me time to figure out what the joke was missing: A SECOND CUBE.

Day Twenty-Four

My wife still hasn't come back with the car, which is good, because it gave me two usable Cube ideas. They both came to me in a cab ride to the private detective's office. The first was right there in front of me the whole time-- What if cab drivers had Cube heads? The second was a little more high concept. What if tires were Cubes, sort of?

Day Twenty-Eight

The detective found my wife at her sister's and she gave him a message. "I'm not going to watch you die in a prison made of Cube." Well, the joke's on you, babe: YOU JUST WROTE ANOTHER CUBE COMIC.

Day Twenty-Nine

I know it's edgy, but I think I want to do a Bible one. Could the Cube represent something divine? Would the reader of a Cube joke book understand it to mean God's Law, His will made Cube? I have to assume they've already assumed it. This will be my Mona Lisa.

Day Thirty-One

Cube use. Cube use. You could throw it at some fucker? A teacher, maybe.

Day Thirty-Two

What am I fucking doing? I drew a Rubik's Cube hitting a teacher in the head? For what? For whom? I spent hours adding captions and it was pointless. "CUBE YOU, PROFESSOR FUCK!" "DIE FROM CUBE!" "YOU GET AN F, TEACHER! FOR CUBE!" Could I be losing my mind? I am surrounded by Cubes, and I swear I can hear them mocking me. But the joke's on them, because that's a comic.

Day Thirty-Three

I was so desperate I called my local paper's political cartoonist to ask for help. He said, "Jesus, you don't need to make this so hard. Rubik's Cubes are a plastic fad toy. They'll be pollution by next weekend. Scatter them around a national symbol and add sadness. Or, ha ha, throw one at some dumb fucker's head."

Day Thirty-Four

My wife saw my Statue of Cuberty cartoon and said I'm not a man. But what would that make me? A woman? Some third gender? Well, congratulations, Linda. That gender is Cube which means you wrote another one.

Day Thirty-Seven

If you fed a bird Cubes would it die? Probably. That might be something.

Day Thirty-Eight

Seriously, though; what are they going to do with all these Cubes when we're done with them? Just dump them somewhere? That's not an idea. Or maybe it is? Fuck it, they can't all be "Choking Baby Bird" funny.

Day Thirty-Nine

Nothing. Nothingness. I just need an idea. Any idea. Oh my god, stop. Go back, me. Is that one? Aieeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Day Forty-One

Divorce court really ate into my work day. But you lose again, Linda. Because every time you try to destroy me it leads to the perfect Cube comic.

Day Forty-Two

My wife brought up an interesting point in divorce court. "Who would choose this? These Cubes, these stupid Cubes?" But to that I would say who wouldn't? Do circumstances even exist where a man would choose anything over Cubes? Certainly not this marriage, but it's a hypothetical worth exploring. Could a man, in his most destitute moments, be tempted away from Cube? Thank God I'm an artist so I can express this thought.

Day Forty-Four

I guess you could feed Cubes to animals? It is crazy this hasn't occurred to me until just now.

Day Forty-Seven

I really think I'm onto something with this idea of eating Cubes. I guess you could feed Cubes to the poor? I feel like that's only a tiny, tiny amount of wordplay away from being a full joke.

Day Forty-Eight

There are no ideas left. I am in a room of blank pages in an empty house haunted by the uselessness of Cube. This is actual, literal tortur-- oh my god, that gives me an idea.

Day Fifty-One

CUBE. CUBE. CUUBE. CUUUBE. CUUUUBE. CUUUUUBE! CUUUUUUBE!! CUUUUUUUBE!!!

Day Fifty-Five

Drink Cube? But how would you make Cube juice? Whisper it to me, Cube. Betray the others with the secret and I promise I will never use it against you.

Day Fifty-Seven

The HOA sent me a notice that I was going to get fined if I didn't rake my leaves. But those fools accidentally gave away the most treasured of gifts-- CUBE IDEA.

Day Fifty-Eight

I am over halfway done with the book. Is this what God feels like? Is this how God thinks? It must be. I'm certain of it. I have to draw this while it's fresh in my mind.

Day Fifty-Nine

My mind is one with God. This will be remembered as the greatest The Cube book of all time. They will bury me under a headstone made of Cube. Is that an idea? Almost. Allllllmost. It only needs one more element...

Day Sixty-One

Write what you know. I heard that somewhere, but what do I know? I destroyed multiple human lives to solve an unfeasible Cube puzzle. But hold on, that's not nothing. That's a story. And I'm either John Fucking Zales or John Fucking Stevens! I can turn that lived experience into a cartoon!

Day Sixty-Two

Against my wi-- against Linda's wishes I was allowed to see my son today. I put him on the floor and let him watch daddy put Cubes into a meat grinder. We screamed together until the sauce was ready.

Day Sixty-Four

Linda's divorce lawyer is named Leonard Chang. He called to say they found eleven pounds of plastic in my son, nine more than the terms of our custody dispute. Fucking Chang. CHANG! CHANG! WHAT AN ASSHOLE! Damn it! I can't let him affect my important work.

Day Sixty-Five

I stare at Cubes and blank pages all day, every day. I sometimes beg them to kill me, but how could they? How would it even work? Wait. You Cubes of bitches, that gives me an idea. Not a funny one, not a sane one.

Day Sixty-Six

How much is a Cube worth? Negative one lemonade? Wait, what am I saying? That's not... Cubes are my Everything. They're my Only Thing. No! We hates them! Negative one lemonades!!!

Day Sixty-Nine

Can't think of anything. Maybe a short autobiographical series? Could I fit all my life, all my desires, all my fears into three Cube Use cartoons? Oh no, oh fuck, I CAN.

Day Seventy-Four

Can't get the idea of my w-- Linda carrying these cubes' child out of my head. What would her father say? Ha, I know what he'd say. This one's for you, Linda. You crossed the wrong Cube cartoonist. I know you're going to feel this one!

Day Seventy-Eight

Humans can't have babies with Cubes. Or so they say; we'll find out. We'll know soon. Do Cubes weigh more than cats? DO CUBES WEIGH MORE THAN CATS?

Day Eighty-One

help

Day Eighty-Two

C-cube eyes? help

Day Eighty-Four

I just need to come up with seventeen more jokes. Seventeen Cube jokes. Such a small number. Oh, I've got one! Not a "ha ha" one.

Day Eighty-Five

I have nothing left. Stop mocking me, Cubes. Death is coming for you, Cubes. Ha. That's it. Those exact words and confusingly nothing else.

Day Eighty-Six

I miss my son. I thought back to when I took him for walks, his tiny head rattling from his stroller's cubes. No. No, Cubes! Do not take these memories from me! Unless... are you giving me the gift of an idea, Cubes? You are! Cubes, I forgive you!

Day Ninety-One

YOU CAN'T EAT CUBES. YOU CAN'T EAT CUBES. YOU CAN'T EAT CUBES. Unless?

Day Ninety-Two

Had a dream I could finally be free, but the Cubes wouldn't let me go. Then my son, my precious baby boy... he appeared and he fought them. He helped me escape! I'm not sure if it's a cartoon yet, I'll have to just draw it and find out.

Day Ninety-Nine

Only three left to go! Actually, we're not going to number the pages and no one is ever going to count these. So fuck it. We finish it here! You end as I ended! I'll destroy you with your own Cubes, Cubes!!!

This article was brought to you by our fine sponsor and Hot Dog Supreme: Cerril, the bastard Cube John that resulted from the unCubely union between Linda and Cube. 

You can read this article and every other one on the much better in every way 1900HOTDOG.COM.