Archive: Crankshaft

Post Content

Luann, 5/27/11

Ha ha, can you imagine an “urgent, passionate” “rap” set to Luann’s poem of self-loathing, “I’m A Snot”? You don’t have to, because you can go to the URL in the third panel and listen to it yourself, in all its glory! But don’t feel obliged to do so. I think we all remember the “Hey Boy” debacle of 2010. Maybe it’s better to hear the passionate, urgent rapping, in your mind. Maybe if you heard it in your actual earhole, it would be so passionate and so urgent that your passionate urges would get the better of you and then who knows what would happen next? Probably some pulsating of some sort, that’s what! So, in conclusion, barf.

Crankshaft, 5/27/11

What must it be like, being a prisoner of the Funkiverse, where every depressing, emotionally loaded conversation (and lord knows there are plenty of those) must be accompanied by smirking? And, in Crankshaft, puns? I think Jeff in today’s strip made some kind of bargain with his cruel God: “Look, I’m trying to share some really heavy stuff with my wife here, OK? I’ll smirk, or I’ll pun, but please don’t make me do both. Let me keep a shred of dignity!”

Post Content

Crankshaft, 5/22/11

A linguistic phenomenon I’ve always found quite interesting is the so-called euphemism treadmill, a process by which taboo concepts are denoted by euphemistic phrases that eventually become so strongly associated with the taboo concept that they lose their euphemistic quality, which means that a new euphemism is required. Take the phrase “toilet paper,” for instance. “Toilet” is itself a euphemism — it originally referred to a lady’s dressing table, and thus was used obliquely to refer to other things that might go on in a room where the lady dresses. Now, of course, the word is intrinsically associated with a porcelain bowl that you poop and pee into, so we need new ways to talk around it. Thus we now have “bathroom tissue,” or, as the sign I noticed in the supermarket today would have it, “bath tissue,” a phrase that would make zero sense out of cultural context because, really, who would use a tissue in the bath? It would get all soggy and clumpy! While this is a topic I’m interested in, this has all largely been an attempt on my part to ignore the fact that today’s Crankshaft features the strip’s title character complaining about the chafing on his tender anus, but I’m going to have to admit to myself now that this attempt has not worked out.

Apartment 3-G, 5/22/11

As usual, the Sunday A3G offers no new plot information, but does provide a slightly different take on the week’s events. Surely we’re all glad to have seen the fourth panel here, in which a wild-eyed Paul holds the bouquet in a strangling grip and proclaims his intention to take it to his grave.

Post Content

Crock, 5/2/11

Ha ha, someone thought that underage scat porn used as an instrument of torture was a good theme for a comic strip! Sure, why not?

Crankshaft, 5/2/11

It sure makes Crankshaft’s half-assed attempts to sexually harass hapless customer service personnel seem positively quaint by comparison.

Spider-Man, 5/2/11

This whole “human vampire” business has worked itself out in even sillier fashion than I could have imagined, with Dr. Morbius’s fiancee accidentally becoming a real vampire in order to understand her beloved’s fake vampirism. The only logical hole out of many I’ll point out here: wouldn’t Dr. Morbius, wracked with guilt over his faux-vampirism, have noticed his fiancee’s vampiric tendencies? “Say, sweetie, would you like to go out for dinner? I’ve got 6 o’clock reservations!” “Let’s make it 9, so that I don’t have to leave the apartment when the sun’s still up. Also, they serve blood there, right? You know I subsist entirely on human blood now.”

Also, regarding the last panel’s NEXT box, it probably wouldn’t be so much a race against time if Peter had woken up when MJ first got into trouble, several hours ago.

Panel from Hi and Lois, 5/2/11

Was baby Trixie from Hi and Lois not on your list of characters who filled you with dread? Well, that’s changed forever now, I’ll say.