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Gasoline Alley
Apartment 3-G, 10/31/09
So Bobbie Merrill has spent the week angrily thought-ballooning while wandering through a suspiciously all-female Manhattan street scene, and today we learn the reason for the setting: she’s accidentally wandered into the crazed mob desperate to debase themselves on the humiliation-TV hit I Dressed In The Dark, a cultural phenomenon that Bobbie treats with richly deserved contempt. It’s hilarious to me that a character willing to offer up a “gift basket” (if you know what I mean) (and I think you do) to a portly middle-aged head-shrinker in return for prescription sleeping pills still turns out to have more dignity than Ruby and Tommie. Sorry, lady, Bobbie won’t be having any of what you’re selling, even though you work for “TV.”
Family Circus, 10/31/09
You might have expected the demonic holiday of “Halloween” to have been completely banned over at the Keane Kompound, but in fact Billy’s parents have dressed him up as the most terrifying thing they can think of: Daylight Saving Time, which is obviously a conspiracy by the U.N. and the Trilateral Commission to undermine American sovereignty and impose One World Government.
Gasoline Alley, 10/31/09
In the latest easily ignorable Gasoline Alley storyline, centenarian strip patriarch Walt Wallet and his caretaker Gertie went to a concert, only to be separated in a series of non-hilarious hijinks. Today’s strip is notable, however, because it appears to imply that it would really save everyone a lot of trouble if Walt were to take himself to the cemetery before dropping dead.
Gasoline Alley, 8/19/09
I have been reading this Gasoline Alley storyline for the last several days, where Earl Lee Bird, a non-beloved character from a few plots back, makes a sudden reappearance on the Conan O’Brien show. Except that because this is comic-strip make believe so his name is actually given as CONAN O’BARBARIAN GET IT IT IS A JOKE BECAUSE HIS NAME IS UNUSUAL AND REMINDS YOU OF THE POPULAR MOVIE WITH ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER. It took several days of repeating Conan’s name EVERY DAY in this strip for me to even notice this, and yet it is the best joke in the comics page today. DAMN YOU COMICS YOU DISGUST ME.
Family Circus, 8/19/09
Oh, except the Keane Kids have found a new victim for the daily human sacrifice demanded by their family’s terrible god.
Family Circus, 6/30/09
Let’s ignore for the moment the fact that Billy is too young to have a job and, assuming the real-life and Family Circus calendars line up, is on summer vacation, and therefore has every right in the world to lounge about lazily. Ignore too the fact that “nothing” is surely preferable to other things Billy could be doing — rotting his mind with TV, bullying his siblings, breaking things, or, God forbid, making adorable malapropisms. I think we should actually be impressed by Billy’s total commitment to doing nothing. He’s so intent on non-action that he’s gone into a room with no furniture and unadorned walls, and is just leaning there, his hands tucked behind him that so he doesn’t do something even accidentally. If he does any less, he’ll transcend to a higher plane of existence, which all of us should be hoping for, as then we won’t have to deal with him.
Gasoline Alley, 6/30/09
The current Gasoline Alley plot is stupid and irritating, so I’ll only waste four words on it — “improvised fake clergyman grift” — but today’s strip is noteworthy for what may be the most gratuitous drawing of a young lady’s rear end in short shorts that the comics page has ever seen. If this and this are any indication, beneath the family-friendly surface of this ancient legacy strip is a cauldron of randiness on the verge of boiling over.
Marvin, 6/30/09
Can Marvin not go 48 hours without updating us on the titular hell-infant’s habit of letting loose the contents of his bowels and/or bladder? Anyway, here’s today’s strip, in which Marvin urinates all over his mother, again. If there’s any integrity to this strip’s use of dialogue balloons, Jenny can’t hear her son’s little mental quip, so that look of horror must be a result of the piss she feels pooling on her back.
B.C., 6/30/09
I’m not sure why, but the revelation that the turtle half of B.C.’s turtle-bird pairing is named “John” is even more disconcerting to me than the discovery that the bird is named “Dookey.”
Pluggers, 3/31/09
Ha ha, remember a couple of weeks ago, when something that went around a plugger’s waist was very long, because pluggers are fat? Well, it turns out that other things that are supposed to go around a plugger’s waist aren’t long enough! Because pluggers are fat, you see. Also, take a look at some plugger ass!
Since male pluggers are almost universally portly, why is poor Rhino-man the butt (ha ha) of all the “pluggers are fat” jokes? This might explain why he’s always so depressed (though it might be because he’s poor).
Gasoline Alley, 3/31/09
“And by ‘cry,’ I mean ‘tear off my own face!’ Argh, basic human kindness sends me into an insane rage!”
Hi and Lois, 3/31/09
Is this the beginning of Trixie’s transformation from “sunbeam-loving cherub” to “cold-blooded sociopath”? If so, can we sic her on Marvin?
Blondie and The Lockhorns, 3/16/09
As a result of this confluence of comic themes, I thought perhaps that there was some sort of nationwide blood drive going on today, of which I would naturally be unaware because the very thought of a needle makes me weep like a pathetic little baby and vomit in terror. Still, about thirty seconds of Google searching (all the research I’m ever willing to do for anything, because I am one of The Kids Today) seems to rule out that idea, so I guess it’s just one of those occasional cartoon coincidences. That’s just as well, as neither today’s Blondie nor today’s Lockhorns would really inspire people to go give the life-saving gift of blood; instead, they’ll just associate this selfless act with their their terrible job or their soul-killing marriage, respectively.
Gasoline Alley, 3/16/09
It looks like there’s some middle-aged, somewhat hard of hearing, working-class romance brewing in Gasoline Alley! Which is great, as it will surely keep the loathsome Slim out of the narrative eye, but I find panel two, in which Gertie stares straight out at us and demands that we, the readers, acknowledge our attractiveness and update her on dinner, kind of unnerving. Perhaps if I still read comics in the paper, I’d have gotten the 3-D glasses that are an integral part of this very special Gasoline Alley experience.
Apartment 3-G, 3/16/09
“I hope you like olives!” Vaguely promising, but, you know, it’s still Tommie, so not sexy at all.
UPDATE: Sorry, kids, your faithful blogger was way behind and is sleepy — COTW coming tomorrow morning!
Gil Thorp, 2/10/09
Shocking developments in Gil Thorp! We’ve learned that Dylan was a teenage stick-up artist, and that Brenda is trying to have it both ways: she wants to imagine that he’s reformed (“But that was more than 30 months ago! Now you’re a slightly older teenager, and somewhat less immature! After what I presume to be some kind of punishment, surely you’ve completely changed!”) while he gives her the sort of half-assed tough-guyisms that keep the girls coming back. YOU KNEW HE HAD A SOUL PATCH WHEN YOU MET HIM, BRENDA! WHAT SORT OF MAN DID YOU EXPECT HIM TO BE?
Meanwhile, Bryce is making himself noticed in the locker room, if by “making himself noticed” you mean “rambling on egomaniacally while literally every other person in the room ostentatiously ignores him.” Frankly, more sarcastic narration boxes can only help this feature.
Gasoline Alley, 2/10/09
I’m not interested in rehashing the last God knows how many weeks of Gasoline Alley, which have mostly served as a primer for diner lingo; just take my word for it that, as a side benefit, they have also involved Slim’s humiliation and failure. Slim is the only Gasoline Alley character for whom I can work up any feelings whatsoever, and those feelings are equal parts distaste and disgust; still, I do have to respect the sadness of the second panel of today’s strip, in which the food-addicted man-child’s suddenly crumpled face reflects a moment of terrible self-knowledge. Because of said disgust and distaste, though, such moments are like catnip to me, and Slim reasserts his usual mode of being (belligerent ignorance) in panel three, reinforcing my prejudice against him.
Apartment 3-G, 2/10/09
You might think that Tommie and Gary’s incredibly awkward verbal sparring — it’s like Tracy and Hepburn, if both Tracy and Hepburn were half-thinking about something else, and neither was a native speaker of English — isn’t going to lead to romance, and you’d be right. Still, it appears that Gary has fulfilled his primary mission: to distract Tommie with his clumsy banter, and use her distraction as an opportunity to steal her tea. Presumably he’ll soon be on his way.
Mark Trail, 2/10/09
OH MY GOODNESS! BUCKY IS THE RISEN CHRIST-DEER! AND PATTY IS MARY MAGDALENE! AND … you know what, I think I’m going to stop riiiight about there.
