infinite-power
Original: infinite-power on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1:
Son: Dad, I find the idea of a multiverse terrifying. If there are nearly infinite copies of me, it's like nothing is real. Nothing carries meaning.
Dad: It's just the opposite!
Panel 2:
Dad: Watch this:
Panel 3:
(The dad slams his crotch against the son. A starburst reads "PUNCH!")
Panel 4:
Dad: I just -OW!!- crotch-slammed nearly INFINITE people, son!
Panel 5:
Dad: And I can do it -GOD THAT SMARTS- any time I want!
Panel 6:
Dad: Limitless power, son! Limitless power!
Panel 7:
Son: How do you know you're the perpetrator and not the victim? How do you know some OTHER YOU didn't deate the crotch-slam first?
Dad (lying on the ground): That is a matter for philosophers.
Votey:
Dad (curled on the ground in pain): Don't help me. I want them all to suffer.
Son: Dad, I find the idea of a multiverse terrifying. If there are nearly infinite copies of me, it's like nothing is real. Nothing carries meaning.
Dad: It's just the opposite!
Panel 2:
Dad: Watch this:
Panel 3:
(The dad slams his crotch against the son. A starburst reads "PUNCH!")
Panel 4:
Dad: I just -OW!!- crotch-slammed nearly INFINITE people, son!
Panel 5:
Dad: And I can do it -GOD THAT SMARTS- any time I want!
Panel 6:
Dad: Limitless power, son! Limitless power!
Panel 7:
Son: How do you know you're the perpetrator and not the victim? How do you know some OTHER YOU didn't deate the crotch-slam first?
Dad (lying on the ground): That is a matter for philosophers.
Votey:
Dad (curled on the ground in pain): Don't help me. I want them all to suffer.
Alt text
A seven-panel SMBC comic. A young man tells his bespectacled father that the idea of a multiverse is terrifying because if there are nearly infinite copies of him, nothing feels real or meaningful. The dad replies, "It's just the opposite!" He says "Watch this:" and crotch-slams his pelvis into the son (a starburst reads "PUNCH!"), then declares, "I just -OW!!- crotch-slammed nearly INFINITE people, son! And I can do it -GOD THAT SMARTS- any time I want! Limitless power, son! Limitless power!" The son counters, "How do you know you're the perpetrator and not the victim? How do you know some OTHER YOU didn't do the crotch-slam first?" The dad, now collapsed on the ground in pain, answers, "That is a matter for philosophers." Votey: a line drawing of the dad curled up on the floor saying, "Don't help me. I want them all to suffer."
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.