Archive: Apartment 3-G

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Apartment 3-G, 3/4/07

The final panel of Sunday’s Apartment 3-G — in which Margo, unfamiliar with normal human methods of showing emotion, does her best to illustrate adoration with closed eyes and pouty lips, while Eric recoils in disgust — is pretty much the best thing ever. It’s enough to almost make me ignore Katy’s blatant bit of pantomimed drug innuendo in the fifth panel. We’ll soon find that Eric is only capable of showing real tenderness to his blood relatives; he only chose Margo as a sexual partner because of her steely invulnerability to typical weaknesses like “feelings”, and thus he’s about to drop her like a hot potato.

Dennis the Menace, 3/4/07

Dennis’ level of menacing has hit a new low. By right, Dennis ought to be causing nightmares with malice aforethought, not suffering from them. But the last panel offers a clue to the lack of Menace: Dennis has clearly undergone some traumatic, Clockwork Orange-style de-menacing process. (The strip title in the first panel indicates that the techniques may have been derived from the CIA’s LSD-based mind control experiments from the 1960s.) Dennis knows that some essential bit of his soul has been killed, and he begs his father to reverse the procedure, or, failing that, to crack his skull open and be done with it.

Judge Parker, 3/4/07

Ah, wealthy suburban Americans, your wealthy suburban Americanism is showing! “Oh dear, my teenage daughter has a bag with several books in it; she can’t possibly take public transportation! I’ll call the butler, post-haste! This trip is totally helping her learn about life on her own.” Of course, like most of the 3.6 million people who choose to ride the Paris Metro every day rather than call for their manservant to come with the Bentley, Neddy and Abbey will inevitably be assaulted by punk rockers.

Incidentally, Neddy, they have these things called “backpacks” now that allow you to carry books more comfortably than that … whatever it is you have slung over your shoulder. Backpacks are even for sale in backwards, retail-starved cities like Paris.

Panels from Shoe, 3/4/07

The throwaway panels in Sunday’s Shoe brought me up short. Is that the bird version of Andy Warhol the Perfesser is talking to? So, if Andy Warhol were still alive today, he’d be doing public service announcements about the importance of staying in school? And he’d be a bird?

Also, this panel from Sunday’s Mark Trail was a little marvel of cruelty:

“Hey, kids! Did you know that the beach is covered with corpses? Rotting corpses?”

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Pluggers, 2/28/07

Do you know what really offends me about this Pluggers? It’s not that it puts me, as someone who still gets his televised entertainment over the air, into the ranks of pluggerdom; I can deal with that. (And by the way, I haven’t purchased a new set of rabbit ears in more than ten years, so I’ve out-pluggered Mr. Bald Dog Plugger Man! Ha!)

No, it’s that this panel doesn’t contain the patented Pluggers play on words or little twist. It’s the one thing Pluggers does, and here it is refusing to do it. “You’re a plugger if you seek to purchase rarely used but still useful electronic equipment”? That’s crap. Here, this is what it should have been: “Pluggers wish on their lucky rabbit ears that they’ll get good signal for the big game,” with a drawing of the Rhino-Man wearing his team’s jersey and adjusting his TV antenna. DON’T MAKE ME DO YOUR JOB FOR YOU, PLUGGERS!

Apartment 3-G, 2/28/07

It’s possible that Katy is getting chemo treatments and we’re about to get a Very Special Apartment 3-G Storyline. It’s also possible that this is the artist’s idea of a hip-looking young woman. It’s not possible that anyone in Katy’s age range (which I put at somewhere between 15 and 40) would allow her uncle to plan her birthday party for her, nor is it possible that she would utter the phrase “Oh, cool! You’re the event planner!”

Crock, 2/28/07

As a native of Buffalo, I’m offended by the implication that the inhabitants of the Queen City of the Great Lakes are all voodoo priests, hungry for chicken blood. As someone who might one day require a blood transfusion, I’m offended that anyone might think that a chicken-to-human transfusion is even possible. As someone with eyes and taste, I’m offended by Crock in general.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 2/28/07

As usual, there’s enough material to analyze in this TDIET to fill out a good-sized Ph.D. thesis, but I’ll satisfy myself with the following:

  • It’s a good thing that Shalimar is identified as a “teener” in the top panel, because otherwise I would have pegged her as a “same age as her motherer”.
  • What with the floppy bow-tie, ponytail, and bad teeth, Shalimar seems to have wedded the least attractive member of James Monroe’s cabinet.
  • “Shalimar”?

By the way, those of you who enjoy TDIET but don’t regularly read Ruben Bolling’s Tom the Dancing Bug should check out today’s installment. You’ll have to sit through an ad to get to the cartoon if you aren’t a Salon.com subscriber, but it’s worth it.

Mary Worth, 2/28/07

I’m not sure what’s more hideous: Mary’s aqua/urine-colored ensemble, or the pug-faced little child at the bottom left of the first panel.

Slylock Fox, 2/28/07

So, remember that Funky Winkerbean from last week where it looked like Wally got blown up (but really he didn’t)? Well, apparently it offended somebody (no, really). And yet the blatant phallic banana in this Slylock Fox will in all likelihood not draw a single letter to the editor anywhere in the country.

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B.C., 2/27/07

B.C.’s love of the interrobang should come as no surprise to regular readers of the strip. But since it’s not a love shared by the population at large, it probably wouldn’t have hurt to actually, you know, show one (if your browser can display it, you should see one here: ‽). Since most readers probably never even heard of this useless punctuation mark even during its 1960s heyday, that first panel might as well have read “Who can tell me what a ‘shootupsuspect’ is?”

B.C.’s use of the accidental (or “accidental”) death of someone in police custody as joke fodder should also come as no surprise to regular readers of the strip.

Speaking of odd typography, what exactly is that symbol between the 2 and the 4 on the blackboard in the third panel? It looks like a backwards “R” — like the one used in the title of that Amerika miniseries in the 1980s, where the Soviets take over and then put all registered gun owners into concentration camps. Hmm, I’m seeing a pattern here.

Judge Parker, 2/27/07

You watch out, Angela! Cedric is going to point the hell out of at you! Look at that blast of energy — he points with the pointing power of a thousand temp butlers!

Lord only knows what sort of outfit Cedric favors when he’s not on duty, but panel two is proof that it’s physically impossible to look menacing and bad-ass when you’re wearing a bow tie.

Apartment 3-G, 2/27/07

Yeah, see, this is what I’m talking about: Margo, baby, Margo! Just as Lu Ann’s art studio adventure is a cautionary tale on the dangers of huffing paint, so Margo’s drama illustrates how cocaine use can ravage your relationship with others. In panel one, our girl Magee is a tightly coiled spring of rage, ready to punch the next person who crosses her — or even looks at her funny — right in the teeth. In panel two, she’s so happy to see Eric that she looks like she’s going to lunge at him and tear off his clothes, or possibly his face. I hope that the “someone special” that Eric wants her to meet is wearing a catcher’s mask, for his or her sake.

Dennis the Menace, 2/27/07

Ruff also doesn’t have to go to school, and gets to urinate outside and roll around in his own filth. On the other hand, there’s the whole castration angle to consider.

Momma, 2/27/07

If you have to repeat the same phrase twice — once to mishear, once to clarify — in consecutive panels, then your miscommunication-themed joke has gone off the rails. On the other hand, I appreciate the mace-like object that Tina is holding in the final panel. Apparently she feels that Mother Hobbes deserves to be bludgeoned to death.