Archive for January, 2006

Hey, what’s the perfect follow-up to a week of half-assed blogging? A week of no blogging at all, of course! Yes, we’re going on vacation in the lovely Southwest, where it’s warm warm warm, or at least not cold cold cold. Comics return on February 6.

The Phantom, 1/27/06

Holy smokes, the situation with the Phantom’s kids is worse than I thought. It’s bad enough that Heloise (Heloise?) wants to turn this Jungle Trek into some sort of sleepover party, with a pup tent, an inflatable mattress, and a battery-powered PlayStation; Kit, on the other hand, is worried that he’s going to cramp up. What a pathetic pair. This is what comes of Bangalla’s transition to peaceful, modern democracy: they may be living in the jungle, but the twins’ tribal guardians have kept them as sheltered as any neurotic, play date-happy suburbanites. Good luck turning them into spandex-clad crime fighters, O Ghost.

Hopefully the Phantom will shake these two out of their self-absorbed little bubbles before they become mired in the endless tedium of first-world angst-ridden post-teen romance:

Luann, 1/27/06

Yeah, you know what a peck on the cheek in front of 200 people is, Brad? It’s yet more messing around with your head. Get out now while you can, for the love of God!

Judge Parker, 1/26/06

Yeah, I’d bet you like her to “define” “physical” for you, wouldn’t you, Sam? I know that floor-length purple jumper has been driving you wild all night (a night that has, by my reckoning, lasted since about November). Still, you’re eventually going to have to come to grips with the fact that your clown-haired girlfriend gets most of her jollies through spying on her daughter. Oh, the shame.

Down in the rural south, on the other hand, the folks have a less complicated relationship with their physical desires:

Yeah, “entertainment.” Check out Mark’s Spock-style eyebrows in this panel. Maybe he’ll take care of this clan of bumpkins with some well-timed Vulcan neck pinches.

Mother Goose and Grimm, 1/25/06

“So you know what would have been funnier in this Mother Goose and Grimm?” I asked the lovely Mrs. Curmudgeon after I read it Wednesday. “If instead of finding his wife having dinner with the dog, he found them gettin’ it on.”

I’m not proud of this. In my defense, I had stayed up late working the night before and was kind of loopy. I may not have used the euphemism “gettin’ it on,” either. I may have deployed the phrase “doggie style.”

Mrs. C. insisted that it would not, in fact, be funnier. You all would no doubt agree, though you might not use the same line of reasoning. For one thing, it’s grosser. But part of what makes something funny is the unexpected and unusual, and, as she put it, “More women have had sex with dogs than have had romantic candlelight dinners with dogs.”

Touché, my dear. Touché.

B.C., 1/24/06

Shoe, 1/24/06

The Lockhorns, 1/24/06

I love it when people write angry letters to the paper. I’m a connoisseur of ridiculously overblown outrage. My favorites, as you might imagine, are the people who complain about the comics, how they are full of sleaze like single mothers and gays and uppity Negroes and people who use the word “butt” and/or “Jesus Christ” (the latter irreverently) and won’t someone please think of the CHILDREN? It’s always the CHILDREN who must be protected, because, as we all know, the CHILDREN are the ones who read the comics pages.

Well, if I were a child, I would be less disturbed by gratuitous use of the word “butt” and more by authors who think that its funny to admit that you have no concept of how high tech devices work. If I were around 8, I’d just be puzzled that there was anyone out there who was so dense; if I were around 12, I would just feel disgust and contempt for such fogeys. I don’t mean to hate on those who are baffled by all our modern conveniences — I’m sure that fifty years from now all the kids with their skull-installed data ports will be mocking me — but today’s Shoe and B.C. just seem to exude a certain stubborn pride in not getting it. (Does Johnny Hart really think that the word “iPod” should appear in a different font from the rest of the sentence? Does he even know what one is, outside the context of those ads with the shadow people?) The Lockhorns, meanwhile, doesn’t even bother to engage with technology, and merely seems to believe that mother-in-law-joke + “e-” prefix designating technology of some kind = comedy gold.

Some comics actually do a good job of dealing with technology jokes. Dilbert and Fox Trot are obvious examples; and For Better or for Worse does a pretty good job of showing how Internet communication is a casual part of people’s lives (particularly young people’s lives). Even Cathy’s endless Irving-becomes-obsessed-with-some-gadget storylines ring true in terms of how some people go a little tech-crazy. Those plots still aren’t funny, mind you, but they don’t come off like they’re being pounded out by some gin-crazed 90-year-old on a aging Selectric typewriter, or shouted into one of those old-timey phones with a crank on the side.

Oh, and I couldn’t let this one by:

Words to live by, my friend. Words to live by.

Hi and Lois, 1/23/06

That’s the spirit, guys: even if your sex life is on the rocks, you still know how to chase those workday blues away: with sweet, sweet liquor. Nice.

I’m assuming it’s working hours, since Lois is working at her desk, but what’s Hi doing at home? Maybe Lois is working late, and Hi is trying to woo her away from the siren song of real estate with the only bait that still works: hooch. Or maybe it’s the middle of the afternoon, and he got sent home because he’s been drunk for hours.