I’m not a fan of either playing or watching golf, but after reading this article, I’ve always been fascinated by the fact that what most people think of the particular artificial landscape created for golf courses is actually an attempt to reproduce the natural environment of coastal Scotland where the game was invented in the 1400s. You can see another strange echo of the now worldwide game’s connection to a particular place in today’s Shoe, in which a bird-woman is wearing a tam o’shanter. This is, I suppose, to provide a setup for the feint that produces the strip’s punchline. Did she purchase this faintly absurd hat, which Americans probably primarily think of as a goofy thing you wear ironically while playing golf, as a part of her decision to try to share her husband’s passion for the game? No. Her marriage is a nightmare nest of suspicions and deceit, but the hat is unrelated to any of that, and we’ll probably never know why she’s wearing it. Its inherent whimsy now merely serves as a sad counterpoint to the bird-woman’s depressing home life.
Dennis the Menace, 3/22/16
To maintain some poor soul in a rapidly decaying flesh-prison, to create a ghastly living portrait of Dorian Gray, in order to grant yourself an ageless existence as a sinister, eternal child — I would be hard pressed to imagine something more menacing than that. “Please, you’ve got to believe me!” Mr. Wilson gasps, smelling the stench of decay arising from his own flesh. “I’ve been bewitched by his foul magic! I’m only 35 years old!”
You’re a plugger if the only thing in your sad, plodding existence that can inspire you to muster up any sense of occasion or formality is when someone dies.