Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 12/2/14
Parson Tuttle is a well-known fraud: he’s largely ignorant of spiritual and theological matters and presumably came to Hootin’ Holler, a community abandoned by actual clergy, to bilk its inhabitants out of their meager savings. But today we learn that this long-term grift has managed to trouble even this con-man’s conscience. What right does he, as a fraud and bearer of false witness, have to tell his parishioner-marks that their minor transgressions mark them out for eternal damnation? As an unbeliever himself, how dare he fill these poor souls’ minds with awful visions of Hell? Can the slim, ill-gotten rewards of this life he’s chosen really be worth it?
Boy, today’s Pluggers caption is really pretty long, huh? Usually they’re short and sweet, but I’d be down with seeing the walls of text expanding to show us what’s really going on beneath the down-home folksy surface of a typical Pluggers panel. “You’re a plugger if you get your ladder out of the garage in the morning to clean out your gutters and it’s still leaning against the house at dusk, because what’s the point, really? It’s just a task you’re going to have to do year after year, again and again. Maybe your gutters will clog up if you don’t do it, boo fuckin’ hoo, it’s not like the roof doesn’t already have three leaks in it, it’s not like the storm windows really shut properly. The whole rotten place is drafty all winter. It’s not like you know how to fix any of that stuff, or can afford to pay someone who does know. You remember the last time you cleaned out the gutters, when your friend Hank was there to help. Hank’s job transferred him to another city eight months ago. You haven’t talked to him much. Men don’t spend all day gabbing on the phone, the way your wife does with who knows what. Sure would make it more fun if Hank were here, though.”
Herb and Jamaal, 12/2/14
Haha, it’s funny because women in service jobs often need to perform “emotional labor” to maintain their tip income, leading to blurred emotional boundaries with customers!
Dennis the Menace, 12/2/14
“OH MY GOD,” thinks Alice, “MY SECRET REVEALED: I POOP OUT MY BUTTHOLE LIKE A NORMAL HUMAN DOES”
Everyone knows that Crankshaft rests on twin pillars that I like to call the “two Ms”: malapropisms and misanthropy. The strip’s really been leaning on the former for the past week or so, with “punchlines” that have involved the words and phrases “painted themselves out on a limb,” “battle-ax states,” and “electrical college.” But this I decree to be not up to snuff. “Nasal” derives via French from the Latin “nasus,” and “nose” from the Old English “nosu,” and both of those come from the same ultimate Indo-European root. They’re basically the same word, in other words, with just the vowel shifted a bit, which means this is unacceptably lazy wordplay. The whole point is to mash unrelated terms together! And you’re pointing to your nose! As if we’re incapable of figuring out what “nosal passages” might refer to! Come on, get it together, Crankshaft.
Herb and Jamaal, 11/12/14
“One of those new cashing devices on your phone,” on the other hand, is perfect. It is an amazing example of someone trying to refer to a technological advance who’s heard about mobile payment systems but doesn’t understand anything about how they work and has zero intention of doing any research about them. Never change, Herb and Jamaal. You keep doing you.
Judge Parker, 11/12/14
Oh, boy, that chainsaw-weilding maniac I ordered has arrived, and in just three weeks, which in Judge Parker is a unit of time so fleeting it can only be recorded with the most delicate scientific instruments! I had neglected to order Sam Driver’s washboard abs, but I approve of the gender-inversion of the usual horror movie trope where sexy ladies take off their clothes and then are gruesomely hacked to bits. (This trope will be further inverted when, instead of being gruesomely hacked to bits, Sam will be handed a substantial sum of cash for no real reason.)
Beetle Bailey, 11/8/14
We all know that Saturdays in Beetle Bailey are for Crushingly Depressing Halftrack Episodes, and while usually these are marital in nature this Amos Halftrack solo outing is a pretty good effort! Isn’t the whole point of drinking yourself into a stupor just to numb all the feelings? Wouldn’t you get the same results staring up into the cold, driving rain, with the added bonus that maybe you’ll develop that bout of pneumonia that finally ends it all?
Herb and Jamaal, 11/8/14
“Boy, it seems like this is a real opportunity for a teachable moment — or a ‘preachable moment,’ hee hee! I should put that on the church sign! But anyway, I could talk to Herb about the potential pitfalls of looking at biblical passages without fully grasping the larger context in which they’re embedded, but I’m on my lunch break, so fuck that noise.”
MARVIN: O R I G I N S