Archive for the 'Pluggers' Category

Apartment 3-G, 11/12/09

Dr. Pappagoras is cheerfully pressing on with his campaign to win the Most Unethical Therapist statuette at this years Psychie Awards! Most head-shrinkers I know (and I was raised by several) do not consider it a “nice surprise” when their goofball-addled patients show up at their office without an appointment and with some bullshit story about, you know, just being in the neighborhood, just wandering around the block seven or forty times in the rain and thinking about pills pills pills PILLS PILLS PILLS. I was originally going to come up with some joke here about transference and countertransference, but then I realized that strictly speaking those phenomena only arise in the course of actual patient/therapist relationships, and not in drug-seeker/quack-doctor-who-wants-to-bone-drug-seeker relationships.

Pluggers, 11/12/09

Speaking of pills, it’s nice to see that pluggers aren’t waiting for some government bailout to pull them out of their tough economic times. Police looking for the distributors bringing insane amounts of black-market oxycodone into the county will never suspect the simple, down-home chicken lady!

Dennis the Menace, 11/12/09

“Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away. Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” –Matthew 5:38-44

So, apparently Dennis has been sent to Earth by his Father to teach us about peace, and then die for our sins. This … this is not very menacing at all.

Family Circus, 11/4/09

The presence of Dolly in the background takes this Family Circus panel beyond this feature’s usual run-of-the-mill “Jeffy is a moron” territory. When you consider Dolly’s well-known and well-earned contempt for her brother, it seems unlikely that she’d be helping him search for his shoes; thus, I must conclude that all shoes in the Keane Kompound have been confiscated, possibly as a result of the suspiciously absent Billy’s successful escape. Barfy’s sad facial expression indicates that he knows what the kids don’t: even if you get across the half-mile of burning sand, you’ll just end up at the electric fence.

Pluggers, 11/4/09

Pluggers are so hard up for cash that they can only afford “choklit”, which, being made mostly from petroleum byproducts, doesn’t have an expiration date.

Archie, 11/4/09

Mr. Weatherbee’s anger masks his shame at almost being caught surfing for Mr. Weatherbee porn while at work.

Mary Worth, 11/4/09

“That’s right, you don’t have any regrets about your love life, do you Jeff? Jeff? Put down that coffee mug and look at me when I talk to you!”

Apartment 3-G, 11/4/09

OH OH WAIT SHE NEVER HAD ONE OF THOSE

Luann, 11/2/09

Have you guys heard about the new Lars van Trier movie, Antichrist? In the opening sequence, a couple known only as “He” and “She” (played by Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg) get it on in sexy black-and-white slo-mo, and while they are so distracted, their little son climbs out the window and falls to his death. They are tortured by this, psychologically, and later literally! According to rumors on the Internets (and stop reading if you’re some kind of Lars van Trier aficionado or something), there is extensive genital mutilation along the way to the horrifying ending.

Anyway, nothing I’ve heard about this movie has caused me to change my opinion that Lars van Trier is a loathsome sadist, but upon reading this strip I can begin to see the appeal of such a plot line. If you’ll allow me to project: Brad and Toni engage in intimate congress on the couch the moment TJ leaves on his onion run; against all of our expectations about Brad, it lasts longer than seven minutes; TJ’s risotto (his “baby”) is burned (“killed”); TJ returns and crushes Brad’s testicles with a block of wood. This will all be part of a long-range and ultimately successful strategy to make TJ the strip’s most sympathetic character.

Spider-Man, 11/2/09

And speaking of characters for whom we should or should not harbor sympathy, have we mentioned lately that Spider-Man is an self-centered douchebag? Here is his latest scheme: he wants to convince Sandman, whom he defeated in super-combat some time ago and who has since gone straight, to engage in simulated combat in New York, so he can photograph it and sell said photographs to the Daily Bugle. Never mind the damage this will do to Sandman’s already dodgy reputation; our theoretical protagonist isn’t even bothering to pay the poor guy for his trouble! We are left to wonder who’s the worst offender: Spider-Man, for demanding that Sandman go along with his journalistic hoax, or Bigshot, for kidnapping Sandman’s daughter and threatening to harm her unless Sandman robs a bank. OK, sure, promising harm to little girls is pretty bad, but consider the fact that Bigshot is a comically preening villain named “Bigshot,” who is almost certainly constitutionally incapable of better, whereas Spider-Man is, ostensibly, a hero. Or at least he was until this week! Maybe this is the Spider-Man newspaper strip’s attempt to wade into Alan Moore-style moral ambiguity, which ought to be extremely hilarious.

Gil Thorp, 11/2/09

“I’m 5-5, Valerie. I’m easy to miss! Especially because you’re, what, seven feet tall? Eight? Is volleyball even challenging to you? Argh, no, don’t step on me!”

Mary Worth, 11/2/09

Meanwhile, in one of those “Gift of the Magi”-type things, Adrian has decided that, to live in solidarity with her comatose beloved who will never be able to perceive this beautiful world again, she will be disabling all of her senses as well. Scott is opening his eyes just as Adrian is in the process of ripping out hers.

Pluggers, 11/2/09

Thank goodness, the plugopalypse has been averted! Unfortunately the use of the elitist neologism “snail mail” will only cause further problems for our overburdened postal system, as the official Pluggers P.O. box becomes encrusted with slime from all the actual snails mailed in by confused pluggers everywhere.

Mary Worth, 10/29/09

I would appreciate anyone who could help explain exactly what the hell I’m looking at in panel two. It seems that the effect intended is “dramatic camera angle shot from just behind Scott’s shoulder, for some reason,” but everything’s also skewed at an angle that makes it look like Adrian and Scott are villains in the Adam West Batman TV show (if only), so it’s sort of hard to look at it and not see Scott’s chest as kind of rising up and his head tilted back. My interpretations: either Adrian is disconnecting Scott from the machines keeping him alive and forcibly dragging his dying form to the altar, or he’s convulsing at her very touch in a desperate attempt to escape their impending matrimony.

Mark Trail, 10/29/09

You know, Sassy gets a lot of crap from you people, but she and she alone seems to realize that Mark is on the verge of leaving the swamp without physically assaulting anybody, and is thus taking matters into her own itty-bitty paws. I’m assuming that we’re going to get the overly complicated plot-sequence of “Sassy almost gets eaten by alligators, Mark rescues her, Mark spots poachers while out and about,” or maybe even “Sassy almost gets eaten by alligators, Rusty rescues her, Rusty gets captured by poachers, Mark must rescue them both,” for all you Rusty-in-peril fans. I’d sort of like to see a version that cuts out the middle steps, where the poachers spot Sassy and recognize that her beautifully spotted off-tan pelt would make a charming muff. Fortunately, Mark’s ability to hear piteous mewling at a distance is superhuman.

Family Circus, 10/29/09

It seems that we’re only now seeing the consequences of the Keane’s decision to keep any and all information about sex and procreation out of the Kompound. Clearly Dolly believes that her parents “made” her baby brothers Jeffy and PJ out of clay or some other random crap they had lying around the house, though looking at them you can hardly blame her.

Pluggers, 10/29/09

Think what you will about this installment of Pluggers, but it can’t be worse than my initial misinterpretation, in which a starving, impoverished dog-man was about to eat a lint-covered hot dog he found underneath his couch cushion for lunch.

Mary Worth, 10/23/09

My goodness, is Mary actually admitting that (a) she once didn’t know everything and (b) she once had the capacity for love? This is like hearing Satan mention that he once attended junior high school. Anyway, this anecdote seems to be going to some kind of “and then he died” place that can’t possibly make Adrian feel any better. “So during one of these periods when I was punishing him with my silence for his transgressions, he was killed in a shootout when his police unit was raiding an opium den. I felt terrible about it, for a week or so, but then it passed! What I’m trying to say, dear, is that if you make your heart an icy stone, nothing can hurt you.”

My Cage, 10/23/09

My goodness, I have to admit that when Jeff’s son mentioned yesterday that he’d be playing a character from a comic strip in his school play, Masky McDeath never once occurred to me as a possible candidate. Well played, Ed Power, writer of My Cage! Let us know what it’s like waking up tomorrow with Lisa’s tumor-ridden head in your bed.

Pluggers, 10/23/09

Having already absorbed hipsters and hippies into their collective, pluggers have settled on their next target: preppies. It’s pretty clear now that nobody is safe, and those of us who refuse to settle for life as folksy, semi-literate furries need to start preparing for the final, apocalyptic war for survival.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/23/09

Can’t you just hear the little metaphorical lightbulb switching on over Earrings O’Punk’s shaved, off-screen noggin in the final panel in this strip? I certainly hope the denouement of this plot finds him at the crooked old folks home, feigning dementia to score free meals. He deserves a happy ending, as he’s by far the most sympathetic character in this storyline.

Marmaduke, 10/23/09

Marmaduke’s owner was hoping that he would “take care” of the town’s homelessness problem by going down to the shelter and devouring all the hapless hobos. Instead, he’s assembled a pack of stray dogs who will urinate on every single piece of furniture that his owners possess.

Pluggers, 10/16/09

Guys, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been spending a lot of time on Pluggers this week — but how could I not, as it’s been so hilarious and poignant by turns? The work week ends with a real emotional wallop: a devastating look inside a wholly dormant plugger marriage. It’s hard to know where to even begin with this: the utter absence of sexual passion being the punchline of the little switcheroo joke; the idea that you would attempt to speed your spouse’s unconsciousness so that you could be alone with the television’s icy glow; the vision of a portly bear-man sitting on the couch, silently watching infomercials or Cops reruns, his kangaroo-wife drunkenly passed out next to him with wine stains on her tattered robe, and the bear-man thinks, “You know, I’m lucky! I’m really, really lucky!” It makes the apocalyptic paranoia of the cold war look downright cheerful.

Mary Worth, 10/16/09

I will never apologize for dwelling on Mary Worth as long as I please, however, especially when it focuses on fraught scenes like this. Adrian may be marrying a vegetable, or a corpse, but Scott will be Dr. Jeff’s son-in-law, do you hear me? He’s given his blessing. There is no turning back.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/16/09

I have no idea what this little interaction is supposed to be about — perhaps this woman is a cancer survivor with many Feelings to Process? At any rate, she seems to have decided that Les is creepy and weird and she doesn’t want him touching her, which pretty much makes her my personal hero.