Archive: Barney Google & Snuffy Smith

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Mary Worth, 8/21/12

Wilbur and Dawn recover from their TV-induced “people came together to help one another” hallucination and realize that life is, after all, brutal. And that they both kinda miss Dave. Back to square one: the perfect Mary Worth story arc.

OK, POOL PARTY!

Herb and Jamaal, 8/21/12

It’s so unfair, because Jamaal really was checking out her blouse — everybody is saying “bold, flowery prints” for fall, but Jamaal thinks the only way to avoid ’70’s Earth Mother connotations is to build the look on a classically constructed garment. And the stitching on this one is simply slovenly, it’s a size too large, and for God’s sake tuck it in. Seriously, girl, you go out in public dressed like that? And slap people when they notice? Bitch.

Shoe, 8/21/12

P. Martin Shoemaker (Shoe), an editor at the Treetops Tattler, documents a single exception to the pending collapse of his industry.

“Say, you’re not by any chance reading Shoe, are you?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 8/21/12

THE EYES OF SNUFFY PEER INTO YOUR SOUL! FEAR HIM!

Judge Parker, 8/21/12

Sam begins to suspect that all Avery’s talk of passion, seduction, Old Hardy, wild life, and prevailing in the end may not be entirely about fishing. Not the sharpest knife in the drawer, our Sam.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Funky Winkerbean, 8/18/12

Hey, Comic John — that was you whining to Funky about your sex life Monday, right? So maybe you could find some way to comfort your wife and assure her that in your eyes she’s no three-year-old, but a desirable, capable, undeniably adult woman? Perhaps some kind of cooperative adult activity, suitable for the place and time, that would help restore her confidence and could actually work out pretty well for you, too?

No? You’re going with the cheap putdown instead? OK, then — on with the glasses and down the hall: that copy of Power Girl #18 ain’t gonna stain itself, you know!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/18/12

This would be just another episode of “Rex exploits rich old ladies for stuff”, but for two things. First, this old lady is Melissa Claridge, for fifty years a straitlaced hypochondriac who berated Rex for his indifferent courtship of June. Here’s “old” Melissa schooling her lying niece Heidi, thanks to the careful scholarship of Lena Delle at In Search of Rex Morgan, M.D.:

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/16/1971

Yes, that’s old June, née Gale, in the first panel.

The second thing about today’s strip is that look on June’s face in the third panel — of what, exactly? Avarice, which passes for lust in her loveless, superficial life? Maybe, but I like to think it’s hope — of escape, of a normal vacation free from menacing floodwaters, shipboard plague, or psycho boyfriends just this once — or maybe for a return to those sweet old days when despite all Melissa’s prodding Rex stayed far, far away from her.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 8/18/12

And Grampy has had a long long life, wasted trying to dull the misery of his empty marriage with porn and likker. Everyone finds this hilarious.

Love Is, 8/18/12

Heh, heh — it’s funny because DEATH.


Hey, Josh is off-grid for the week at his Secret Writer’s Retreat in the Northern Part of the State. Reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net with site issues, spam alerts, etc.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 8/12/12

You know, I had always assumed that Hootin’ Holler was simply a community that was isolated from mainstream American life due to some combination of geography and poverty. But perhaps it really represents a voluntary intentional community of people who moved into the deep woods to avoid the omnipresent eyes of the modern security state? This of course makes even intracommunity relationships complex; the throwaway panels demonstrate the heightened expectations for privacy held by Holler residents. And now word has filtered in from the outside that the state’s advanced technology has rendered the protection offered by their isolation obsolete, which may precipitate a community crisis.

Apartment 3-G, 8/12/12

Ah ha, now the truth about Evan’s weird job interview stylings comes out! PRO TIP: If you are applying for a job because you have developed a crush on a lady who you saw profiled in a PR industry weekly e-mail newsletter, maybe don’t let her in on this until you’ve made yourself indispensable to her. By the way, Margo had an assistant for her (now defunct, apparently?) party-planning business; his name was Sam and he had to do demeaning things like reuse helium balloons and eventually he just sort of vanished, so, you know, watch yourself Evan.

Crankshaft, 8/12/12

Here’s a quick demonstration of the differences between the two Funkyverse strips. When characters in Funky Winkerbean want to spoil a perfectly good time at the county fair, they do so by dwelling on inchoate existential dread. When characters in Crankshaft do it, they do so by giving voice to intrusive and out-of-proportion anxiety about very specific crises, and by engaging in awful wordplay.