Post Content

Archie, 10/2/07

Huh, the Archie Joke-Generating Laugh Unit 3000 seems to have put the wrong dialogue into today’s cartoon. Here, let me fix that:

Panel one, Miss Gundy: You feel that our school has singularly failed to inculcate any sort of moral sense into our student body? That we are training an army of sociopaths?

Panel one, Mr. Weatherbee: Indeed! What is it that has hollowed out their spirits from the inside, leaving them only fit to be alternately victims and tormentors in life’s theater of cruelty?

Panel two: [A sickening crunch as Archie’s kneecap fractures, leaving him with a limp that will linger the rest of his life.]

Panel three, Mr. Weatherbee: Perhaps we shouldn’t have painted every wall in the school a blindingly bright white. We sought to inculcate spiritual purity, but instead we created the illusion of a yawning void that reflects the emptiness of the students’ souls!

Gasoline Alley, 10/2/07

When last we left this feature, Slim’s insane meteor plot had landed him in an actual mental hospital. Soon afterwards, his clinician choose to follow an unorthodox treatment regime — sending him and Clovia to the beach — and Skeezix, who is the father of one (possibly both? who knows?) of them, had to take over at the garage and deal with their surly employee, who went out on a call and then vanished. In this strip’s newly found rhythm of veering from dull to insane as the plot develops, Skeezix has tracked the missing mechanic to this creepy old house, which is probably inhabited by a family of inbred murderers wearing human skin suits, or a passageway to the plane of damned souls, or something similarly bizarre. The harrowing adventures in this hell-house will of course cut back and forth to and from the dialect-heavy hillbilly antics of Rufus and Joel, who Skeezix left in charge of the garage.

Spider-Man, 10/2/07

Oh, Spider-Man! Is there any hero in the pantheon of American comics tougher and more noble than you? Spidey and his wife have decided to flee Los Angeles for the safer climes of Manhattan; they’ve been driven out of the city of angels by the twin scourges of the Shocker (a “super” villain whose “super” powers mainly consist of a crippling inferiority complex and vibrating gloves he built in his basement metal shop) and an army of amateur paparazzi. But now he faces his greatest challenge yet: heavy traffic on the 405! Obviously it’s worth Peter Parker betraying his secret identity if that’s what it takes to get to the airport on time; after all, air travel between LA and New York is incredibly sporadic, and if Peter and Mary Jane don’t make their flight, clinging to the landing gear like it’s the last helicopter out of Saigon if need be, they could be trapped in Los Angeles indefinitely.

Gil Thorp, 10/2/07

Uh-oh, Howard looks like he’s about to prove that wearing Buddy Holly glasses and being named “Howard” doesn’t automatically make you smart. It’s well known that the Internet primarily exists as a vehicle for anonymous personal abuse. Googling the name of a crappy high school quarterback who plays in a town unnaturally obsessed with high school sports will mainly serve to demonstrate how many ways there are to misspell “YOU FUCKING SUCK.”

Post Content

Curtis, 9/29/07

I’ve perversely pleased that Curtis has chosen to take on a topic so very rarely tackled in the comics: that moment in a young man’s life when his raging hormones completely overwhelm his capacity to act in a socially appropriate fashion. In Curtis’ case, he’s taken to “watching” (just watching, sure) degrading reality quasiporn right before dinner time. It’s nothing to be proud of, but we’ve all been there, right fellas? (And probably the ladies too, though I’ll let them speak for themselves.) Anyway, part of every person’s self-pleasuring education involves learning the whens and wheres, and Curtis is quickly finding out that where should probably not be “in the bedroom that you share with your brother in what is probably a none-too-large apartment” and when should definitely not be “in the early evening, when your family is in the next room and could wander in at any moment.” Patience and cunning are required while you still live at home, Curtis. You don’t want to be too obvious about it in such close proximity to your mom, lest you enter Francis territory.

If “family matters” is my new favorite euphemism for sex, then “the ‘times’” is clearly my new favorite euphemism for puberty. And I do wonder if Curtis has finally gotten his hands on the fabled “syrup chapter.”

Gil Thorp, 9/30/07

The Mudlarks have started the season 0-2 behind quarterback Tony Casey’s consistently dismal play. Some might say that he just doesn’t have the talent, but I think he’s a bit distracted … distracted by left guard Howard Gourwitz and his wholesome, aw-shucks good looks! While Tony’s the quarterback, in the aftermath of Milford’s defeat it’s Howard who’s making passes. Tony might be disappointed to “forget the Bucket”, at least this week, but I’ll be he’s looking forward to finding out exactly what act of delightful perversity “empty your mom’s fridge” might be code for.

While this romantic drama is going on the foreground, I have to wonder about football player number three in the second panel, who can’t seem to get his helmet off. Did a particularly powerful hit jam it onto his skull so tightly that he’ll be forced to wear it around school indefinitely? Meanwhile, after the inevitable disorienting jump cut, we get the promise of more vandalism-based hijinks to come. Backwards black hat dude is a master of the school-rivalry prank; he’s had a long time to acquire that mastery, since he appears to be 35 or so.

Momma, 9/29/07

It probably shouldn’t come as a surprise that Momma plans to go out like a monarch from ancient Egypt or Sumer. When she dies, her faithful servants will kill and entomb her children with her in her enormous ziggurat so they can wait on her hand and foot in the afterlife. Good God, that smile on her sleeping face creeps the hell out of me.

Archie, 9/29/07

You can when you spend as much time huffing paint as you do, Archie!

Man, the nameless guy at the bottom center of the second panel is the saddest dude in the world. There’s someone who actually cares about his test scores and his academic future. Archie is just idly musing on his incipient dementia to pass the time until he sees something shiny.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/29/07

Yeah, and the younger one kind of looks like he’s on fire. That could explain the odor.

Pluggers, 9/29/07

A plugger’s erectile dysfunction is kind of besides the point, since the rest of his body is in such an advanced state of decay that attempting any kind of sexual encounter would be excruciatingly painful. Plus nobody really wants to have sex with him anyway.

Post Content

Hey kids! Before we launch into today’s comics, I need to back up a bit, because I didn’t give credit where it was due yesterday. Seems that Monday’s TDIET was submitted by faithful reader Klipper an his wife, better known no doubt as Zoe‘s parents!

They’ll Do It Every Time, 9/24/07

It’s OK, Klipper! You can just get up and change the channels with the little buttons on the TV set itself, you know. No need to cuss. Kudos on the green plaid pants, by the way — most people wouldn’t have the nerve to pull that off.

And now on to today!

Archie, 9/25/07

Ignoring the glaring problem with the dates (perhaps the AJGLU 3000 refuses to embrace the papist conspiracy that is the so-called “Gregorian calendar”?), I am quite pleased by the vision of these four teens lined up at the Learning Bar, each with an iconic symbol of their favorite summer activity, to wit:

• Jughead: Surfing.
• Archie: Naked basketball.
• Betty: Being carried aloft on a litter by a team of manservants, one of whom is extra-hunky and shielding her from the hot sun with a fringed umbrella of the type employed the by the queens of the Orient in days of yore.
• Veronica: Putting on her cleverest disguise and prowling the night as the Black Cat, Riverdale’s greatest — and sexiest — rug thief!

Mary Worth, 9/25/07

“Mary, please don’t say ‘I told you so…'” HA HA HA HA HA HA

Poor Drew! He’s managed to botch relationships with two perfectly nice women, he has to go admit to his father’s awful not-girlfriend that she was right, and if this little couch scene is any indication, he probably just walked in on a little Dr. Jeff-Mary make-out time. So in panel two, he’s responding the only way he knows how: by shrugging the most epic shrug that human shoulders have ever attempted. I mean, look at that thing. He’s even putting his knees into it. He’s going to need some long hours at the chiropractor afterwards, but his form is so perfect, it’ll totally be worth it.

Luann, 9/25/07

Actual, not-made-up discussion my wife and I had last night as we were falling asleep:

Me: Hey, does TJ have a job or anything?

Her: He’s a vest salesman! …no, a vest model.

TJ apparently only uses his snazzy sweater vests as formalwear, though: when he’s cooking for his hard-working man, he wears a more casual black button-up white collared number. Today, Brad suggests that his friend might make some extra money by serving as the firehouse’s sexual plaything, a proposal that’s not being dismissed out of hand. Oh, TJ! You’ll do anything to avoid getting a real job!

Apartment 3-G, 9/25/07

Yeah, you know, “family matters.” Like in junior high, when they separated the boys and the girls and showed them filmstrips about “family matters.”

True Margo-watchers know what that vibrating index finger presages. Eric and Nora need to get down on the floor now and cover their heads with their arms if they want to have any hope of coming out of this with their pretty faces intact.