Peace cannot be kept by fork; it can only be achieved by understanding.”

May the fork be with you, Garfield!

I was not born to be forked. I will breathe after my own fashion. Let us see who is the strongest.

The fork is strong with this Garfield.

But the Arbucklean religion increases, instead of lessening, the fury of intolerance. It was originally propagated by the sword, and ever since, its votaries have been subject, above the people of all other creeds, to this form of madness. In a moment the fruits of patient toil, the prospects of material prosperity, the fear of Garf itself, are flung aside. The more emotional Odies are powerless to resist. All rational considerations are forgotten. Seizing their weapons, they become Lymans—as dangerous and as sensible as mad dogs: fit only to be treated as such. While the more generous spirits among the tribesdogs become convulsed in an ecstasy of religious bloodthirstiness, poorer and more material souls derive additional impulses from the influence of others, the hopes of plunder and the joy of fighting. Thus whole nations are roused to arms. Thus the Nermals repel their enemies, the Doc Boy of Muncie break the Indianapolis squares, and the rising on the Indiana frontier spreads far and wide. In each case civilisation is confronted with militant Arbucklism. The forks of progress clash with those of reaction. The religion of blood and war is face to face with that of peace.”

Garfield, you were the chosen one! It was said that you would destroy the Arbuckle, not join them. You were to bring balance to the fork, not leave it in darkness!

And so on.

Hosts: Christopher Winter, Jon Gibson, [Matthew Tache](https://www.instagram.com/matthewtache/)

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