Archive for the 'Ziggy' Category

Spider-Man, 11/20/09

It really shouldn’t come as surprise to anyone that the quality control over at the newspaper Spider-Man strip is less than stringent; but, as several faithful readers have written to me to point out, the feature appears to be reaching for stunning new levels of “Eh, why bother?” It seems that at some point this plotline’s pathetic villain has had his name switched from Bigshot to Bigtime. This is obviously troubling, not least because there was already a newspaper Spider-Man villain named Bigtime just last year. Worse, while Bigtime — who earned that moniker when his all-pervasive clock fetish matched up with his given name of Bigelow — seemed like a pretty lame nemesis for a superhero at the time, he’s like the love child of Catwoman and Lex Luthor when compared to Bigshot, who got his name because he’s short. It’s a sad day when your villainy suffers in comparison to someone whose crimes were entirely timepiece-themed.

Dick Tracy, 11/20/09

So this is something like the fourth separate and contradictory explanation that’s been offered for the events of this Dick Tracy plot — which explanations, I should add, have taken up more strip time than the events they are attempting to explain. This one makes even less sense than the others. In my experience, circuses tend to travel from place to place, and thus there’s no “property” to purchase, unless we’re talking about the actual tent itself, for which I’m guessing there isn’t a huge resale market. Cyber the tiger looks as enraged by this as anyone about all this, and I sincerely hope he (or she?) finally just eats everyone to shut them up.

Judge Parker, 11/20/09

I just had this bit of realization about this plot: Sam Driver is withholding information from the police about this note, and knowledge about this note could set his client free — his client who has terminal cancer and not long to live. Presumably he thinks it would be much more dramatic to reveal his ace card during the trial (“discovery”? what’s that?) in stunning and dramatic fashion than it would be to work the whole thing out now and let his client spend the last few weeks of his life with his family. In other words, Sam, never one to rest on his laurels, is working hard to secure the title of Dickiest Man Alive.

Ziggy, 11/20/09

I’ve always been disturbed by the fact that nightmarish gore-fests like Hostel or the Saw movies get R ratings while sexy flicks like Henry and June or The Dreamers get NC-17s, and now I have another reason to feel that way: this horoscope implies that Ziggy will not be violently murdered, but will rather participate in some no doubt queasy-making sex act.

Slylock Fox, 11/20/09

The final step when drawing a member of the proletariat: the honest grime of manual labor!

Gil Thorp, 10/24/09

So it turns out that all imprisoned-brother-haunted ticking time bomb Duncan Daley needed to do to find emotional support was to let his idiot friends in on his little secret! Hopefully I’m not offending any current or future high school jocks by questioning how willing and eager Shep and Robb (or perhaps two other interchangeable friends with stupid names) are to help, as this isn’t a social class known for its nurturing attitudes. Even Ted Peare’s teammates pretended that he was infected with a deadly disease when they found out he was homeless!

Anyway, with the Mudlark locker room softened by this outbreak of drama-killing, touchy-feeling emotional support, we have only one place left to turn for hard-hitting narrative action: prison! Let’s hope that we just gloss over the rest of Milford’s undoubtedly doomed football season and just focus on the shankings.

Barney Googe and Snuffy Smith, 10/24/09

Good lord, now we know why the malformed child known only as “Tater” has remained an infant throughout this strip’s multi-decade run: Loweezy has been forced by rural poverty to birth a whole series of little Taters and hand them over to the greedy Silas, who as the owner of the General Store is the only resident of Hootin’ Holler who participates at all in the national non-barter-based economy, and to whom the Smif clan is presumably heavily indebted. We can only hope that this sinister shopkeep is selling the babies to parents so desperate to adopt that they won’t question too closely the size of the gene pool that spawned them, as the other possibilities are even more terrifying.

(Side note: Showing the limits of the modern information age, the name of Snuffy Smith’s store owner character is one of the no doubt many bits of data that cannot be easily found with a quick Google search. I had to find it the old-fashioned way: looking through the archives until I found a strip where one of the other characters addressed him by name. My God, it was like living in 1997!)

(UPDATE: Uh, yeah, as several posters have pointed out, Silas’s name is in fact right there in the strip. Of more interest however is the person who mentioned that his name is also in the Snuffy Smith Wikipedia article. I had of course consulted Wikipedia on this important subject, but had looked up the feature under its official name, Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, which does not include this vital data. Why on earth are there two articles on this subject? Oh, there’s an angry merge template going up on those articles tomorrow, believe you me.)

Family Circus, 10/24/09

I’m not sure what’s more unsettling: that Jeffy can’t determine the relative ages of the people he sees on the TV, or that he can’t differentiate between displays of maternal and romantic affection. For his sake, I’m hoping that his horrified parents will realize what he’s watching and ratchet the V-chip protection levels on this TV set up so high that the only thing it will get is the Weather Channel.

Ziggy, 10/25/09

Ziggy is using a slight variation on the ancient “they asked for a number to call in case of emergency, so I wrote ‘911′” joke to draw attention away from the fact that nobody on Earth would lose a moment’s sleep if he were hospitalized or dead.

Pluggers, 10/7/09

Dum de doo, let’s see what folksy bit of lower-middle-class reactionary agitprop Pluggers has for us today AAAHHH TERRIFYING DEMON GOAT FROM THE PIT OF HELL ITSELF! All apologies to faithful reader True Fable and other known goat-a-philes, but this fellow looks a little bit too much like Baphomet for my taste. I believe that’s actually a mummified goat head that “Bernie Lange” wears as a mask for human sacrifices.

Satanism aside, what exactly is today’s Pluggers ostensibly indicating to us? That some pluggers have long, scraggly beards? I find this troubling, but it is true that with the aging of the Baby Boomer generation, the plugger and old hippie demographics will only continue to overlap, a long-term trend that’s much more unsettling that the fleeting dalliance between pluggers and hipsters.

Marmaduke, 10/7/09

Ha ha, the STIMULUS PACKAGE, am I right, folks? It looks like Marmaduke saw what a great job other cartoons did with stimulus package jokes and decided to follow up, on its own inscrutable schedule. Like Shoe’s Roz, Marmaduke appears to have ordered some kind of extra-large vibrator, or perhaps a device that electrically stimulates his victims’ flesh, the better to tenderize it before he devours them.

Marvin, 10/7/09

I know that it’s profoundly not news when Marvin makes jokes about shitting, but this week we’re being treated to an epic multi-day story arc — one that’s really impressive in its scope — about how one of Marvin’s associates has taken a huge dump in his pants and how the entire day care smells like feces, much to everyone’s disgust. The smell of poop is so bad that it’s threatening to blind Marvin, and it’s only Wednesday, so I can’t wait to see what heights of turd-focused drama we’ll see by the end of the week.

Hi and Lois, 10/7/09

Notice all the extra whitespace in Trixie’s thought balloon in panel one; does this indicate that the original dialogue was changed at the last minute? Perhaps Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Enterprises LLC tried and failed to get the first ever “infant with a hangover” joke into America’s funny pages.

Ziggy, 10/7/09

The car that Ziggy wants to buy is attempting to commit suicide, for obvious reasons.

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Shots ring out in the seedy Santa Royale warehouse district as Operation H-Town goes down! Detective Scott Hewlett seems determined to shoot his own team leader there in panel 1 — maybe because the guy’s hiding in a box, or maybe for his shaky grasp of the concept of “arrest.” But the ’70’s thugs in panel 2 aren’t waiting for Scott’s move: they may not be “reasonable men and women”, but they know how to act on “an expectation that they are free to leave.”

Operation H-Town Update: Faithful reader 8th Man Fan has generously created Scott’s Drug Bust Pool spreadsheet, where you can track such issues as:

• What day will Scott arrive at the hospital?
• What will his condition be?
• When will Adrian express her shame and self-loathing?*
• What is the final outcome?

* for the events of this story line, not the Ted Confey story — no cheating, you rascal!

Play along using the awesome Scott’s Drug Bust Pool Form. Thank you, faithful reader 8th Man Fan!

Crankshaft, 9/22/09

Ed Crankshaft: not just old and nasty — old, nasty, and weak. Though in fairness, that may be stiffer wood than he’s seen in a while.

Zippy the Pinhead, 9/22/09

Zippy discovers Twitter!

Ziggy, 9/22/09

Ziggy discovers blogs!

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– Uncle Lumpy

Beetle Bailey, 9/18/09

Wow, I’m not sure who reeks of desperation more here: Sgt. Snorkel, wandering despondently around Camp Swampy in the middle of the night because he can’t be with his true love Beetle, or Sgt. Lugg, who has given up on having Sarge acknowledge any kind of affection for her and is now just offering no-strings-attached sex. Sarge is sad and lonely enough to take her up on it, but obviously he needs to get himself good and drunk first.

Blondie, 9/18/09

I’m a 35-year-old who spends much of his time writing a blog about Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G, so obviously I’m not “hip” and “with it” when it comes to the kids today, but: really? I always thought of Crocs as being dorky and suburban, not the sort of thing the kids would use to drive teachers crazy and “push the buttons” of anyone in authority. (Thanks for using the quote marks there, Blondie, as otherwise I would have assumed that some literal button-pushing was going on.) I suppose upon reflection that Crocs have all the necessary attributes for being a punk rock accessory, seeing as they’re both ugly and uncomfortable.

Hi and Lois, 9/18/09

Speaking of punk rock, here’s one of those scary, crazy, anything-goes Webcomics artists! Man, they’re a bunch of angry radicals, aren’t they! And why wouldn’t they be, with their failure to make as much money as the 50 or so widely syndicated newspaper comics artists? Don’t worry, my pink-haired friend; someday your son will be smugly paying gag writers to churn out daily installments of the strip you created before heading out to the golf course, right up to the point when the medium in which its published goes bankrupt.

Family Circus, 9/18/09

“I’m diggin’ up all the pets we buried and piecing together bits of their corpses to make a Frankenstein animal monster! Should I reanimate the dead matter using dark magic or perverted science?”

Ziggy, 9/18/09

Ziggy thinks that his parrot should know something about Quetzalcoatl, the fearsome flying snake god of the Aztecs! That’s because Ziggy experienced a psychotic break from reality, many years ago.

Speaking of breaks, psychotic and otherwise … I’m takin’ the next week off! But don’t worry, your favorite Uncle Lumpy will be here to amuse you. See you next Saturday!

Mary Worth, 9/10/09

It’s easy for Scott to be patient, because once you’re as fucked up on Special K as he appears to be in panel two, the flow of time no longer has any meaning for you.

Phantom, 9/10/09

“She’s being attacked by some purple-clad freak and his two diminutive diaper-wearing minions! Argh, I’m too late!”

Pluggers, 9/10/09

Pluggers think that “electronics superstores” still sell things out of catalogs in 2009, for some reason.

Ziggy, 9/10/09

Ziggy is about to be sodomy-searched over the phone, because nobody wants to deal with any of Ziggy’s nether parts in person.