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“Hello again kids, and welcome back to World of Animals — I’m your beloved host, Carl. Not much going on back home in Yucatán these days, so let’s explore Nature Facts from all around this wonderful World of Animals!”

Six Chix, 11/25/18

“Ever wonder what turkeys do if they survive Thanksgiving? They dress up in human clothes and memorialize the mass death of their kind in ritual feasts like these. Turkeys are not right in the head, is what I’m saying.”

Slylock Fox (details), 11/25/18

“Differences come and go, but a reptile’s gotta eat. Sorry, Sneaky.”

“Hey, good one, Caleb!”

Prince Valiant (detail, excerpt), 11/25/18

“Did you know humans are among the few large mammals to mate year-round? Looks like these two have it figured out! ‘Time devoted strictly to family’ my tiny tail!”

Mary Worth, 11/25/18

“Have you heard about the theory that cats control people through a parasite called Toxoplasma gondii transmitted in their feces, and that people with compromised immune systems — like the elderly — are particularly vulnerable? It’s true!” “Now that Mary Worth has signed on to take all the crap Libby the cat here can put out, and Libby is clearly taking none of hers, we can all settle in to watch them square off in The Battle of the Controlling Parasites. I’ll pop some corn!”

— Turtle Carl, for Uncle Lumpy

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Gasoline Alley, 11/24/18

Today is the actual 100^th anniversary of Gasoline Alley — the longest-running comic strip still publishing new material ever since The Katzenjammer Kids went into reruns back in 2006. Sincere congratulations to Jim Scancarelli for his gorgeous old-school draftsmanship — that’s an actual pen he’s using right there — and a daily look back at a mythic America that disappeared after World War II — one populated by comical junkmen, back-alley auto mechanics, lovable hoboes, itinerant fraudsters, and radio voice actors.

Now can we please end the four-month self-congratulatory wankfest, park Walt in the Old Comics Home for good, and get back to wallowing in lovingly rendered Hoogy tush?

Crankshaft, 11/24/18

You know, I think Mary may be on to something here. We all think of Crankshaft as a bitter, self-loathing ignoramus, and who will say us nay? But what if the root cause of his repulsiveness is that he’s completely incapable of abstract thought? It would explain his rage as he careers randomly through an incoherent universe of punctate sense-experiences, comforted only by chance repetition — the droning monotony of football plays, familiar snap of a mailbox behind his bus, annual blast of fire from an overfueled grill, or daily necrotic reek of Lena’s coffee.

You object, “But he’s just being an asshole!” and Ed cracks a little grin. That word, like all others, is just noise to him, but at least he’s heard it before. So many times, it feels like an old friend.

Dick Tracy, 11/24/18

I’m really starting to worry about this Vorkov guy here. Near as I can tell, he’s taking funds legally entrusted to him and spreading them around in ways that are pretty routine but don’t match the beneficiary’s intent. That’s all loathesome ‘n’ stuff I guess, except:

• The beneficiary, Peter Pitchblende, is a moron, squandering his inheritance trying to resurrect the reputations of long-forgotten third-rate Martin and Lewis copycats. In the very worst interpretation, Vorkov merely missed the filing deadline to have Pitchblende declared incompetent.
• This is essentially the same con outlined in the Parable of the Unjust Steward (Luke 16:1-13). How bad can your grift be when it’s approved in the New Testament by Jesus the Actual Christ?

Maybe Vorkov, a second-generation crime boss, isn’t really evil at all, but was brought up to think he’s a criminal mastermind? So he spends his ordinary days faxing, paying bills, and managing payroll, but all in that ridiculous makeup, tenting his fingers and gleaming his teeth, pausing now and again to cackle “BWA-HA-HA.”

Curtis, 11/24/18

Greg, let me bring you up to date: these days, a million-dollar 2BR in Harlem looks like your place. No hovering required!

Mark Trail, 11/24/18

Heads up, kids! David Lee Roth is closing in!

Hello again, faithful reader! I’m sitting in for Josh through Sunday December 2, so if you’ve got any site access or other issues, reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net. Enjoy!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Gil Thorp, 7/11/18

Hey, it’s Gil Thorp wrapup time, with Marjie Ducey! And if there’s a more callous, dismissive line of Gil Thorp B.S. than panel three there, I don’t ever want to hear it: “Kid gives me four years, to do what for him? Sometimes you just don’t like a kid, stuff happens, it is what it is! Things change; everything works out — for me anyway. Is that all? I gotta get home and grab some of that Pinot before Mimi drains the box.”

Zits, 7/11/18

This sets up the exact inverse of “Curtis is Humiliated Trying on Clothes”, and works just as well.

[The old-school draftsmanship in Zits — like Sherman’s Lagoon, Curtis, and Gasoline Alley — is usually impeccable. That’s why the missing corner of that banner in panel one sticks out: “SALF”?]

Funky Winkerbean, 7/11/18

I know both Josh and I go on about the wads of exposition in this strip: characters (“your father, John Darling”) are constantly reintroduced, events (“the coming reunion”) explained with every mention, and whole backstories laboriously introduced to set up … not much. Maybe the creators are trying to make the strip accessible to casual readers who don’t see it every day? Maybe they don’t realize they’re punishing people for paying attention?

Anyway, if you’re gonna expose, expose right: Eisner is justly famous for his comic books; his early, obscure strips all flamed out before 1939. And San Diego weather is delightful.

Luann, 7/11/18

Gunther’s not at all upset by the idea of his mother as a person independent from himself, with feelings and desires of her own. He just can’t shake the image of Mr. Gray in a leather mask, twirling a leopard-print Speedo over his head and hollering “COWABUNGA”!

Pluggers, 7/11/18

“I learned that from you, Boomer scum!”

Aaaaand that’s it for me, folks! Thank you for a lovely time, and for your generosity during the fundraiser. You guys are first-rate human beings and should all cut yourselves some extra slack today; tell ’em Carl told you so.

Josh will be back tomorrow with songs of the Auvergne, profuse thanks, and his usual slantwise take on comics of the day.

COWABUNGA!

— Uncle Lumpy