Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 2/16/11
I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve seen Jughaid’s haid without his omnipresent coonskin hat, and what a disturbing sight it is! Horror aside, though, this comic implies that perhaps I’ve been too hard on the residents of Hootin’ Holler over the years; after all, that shallow brainpan and those protruding brow ridges indicate that the town is populated by a lost tribe of Homo habilis, and frankly rather than criticizing their primitive lifestyle we ought to be impressed by how close their civilization comes to the one created by anatomically modern humans.
I’ve become something of a connoisseur of Shoe’s trademarked Goggle Eyes Of Horror, and today’s double-whammy is particularly intriguing to me. One expects to see them on whatever bird-man is the butt of the joke, as our stranger is here; however, the fact that the Perfesser is also sporting them seems significant. It’s as if he’s realized to his shock that Shoe is right, King is the name of his dog, but he was talking to the other man about a real king, and he forgets, sometimes, which is which. It’s the look of panic a man has in a moment of lucidity as he realizes he’s slipping into senility or going insane, and as such is a thousand times more harrowing than some mild consternation at almost ordering a sub-par meal.
Apartment 3-G, 2/16/11
Good gracious, why does Iris keep falling asleep in the car? Is she like a baby, and the sound of wheels on pavement just lulls her to sleep more or less immediately? I’ve been assuming that this is just a jaunt of a few hours or less, but perhaps I’m wrong; perhaps they’ve been driving aimlessly around Upstate New York for days, and Iris has been passing out from exhaustion whenever she has a few minutes. Trey and Margo have stayed awake the whole time, since they’re high on love and/or cocaine.