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Mary Worth, 9/19/09

Some cops slip a spare gun in their boot for extra protection. Jason of the Argonauts lashed a Gorgon’s head to his shield and turned adversaries to stone. Confusing the two, Detective Scott paralyzes his foot.

Crankshaft, 9/19/09

Crankshaft‘s old-timey photo reminds us: generations come and go; only pain and loss endure. After that fateful game, Grimace abandoned his dead-end mascot career and opened discussions with McDonald’s.

The Phantom, 9/19/09

Long into the night, Chatu stares at his pinups and spins elaborate, violent fantasies. Not so special after all, are ya, pal?

And in other news:

Rhymes with Orange, 9/19/09

Hey lady — pills for that now, they have!

9 Chickweed Lane, 9/19/09

Juliette Burber, who bullies insecure college students and trustees, chides her mother for bullying a sales clerk. Next: Edda kicks a Cub Scout!

Hey, Josh is off for the week — if you have any trouble with the site, etc., reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net. You can still reach Josh at bio@jfruh.com, but expect a wait.

Uncle Lumpy

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Apartment 3-G, 8/31/09

For too long, Professor Aristotle “The Professor” Papagoras has been denied his very own Apartment 3-G plotline. This is because it’s been hard to come up with a story for him that can match the heart-stopping intensity of such classics as “Margo is a bad event planner,” “Lu Ann visits her parents in South Dakota, apparently, even though we only get to see what’s happening out there like two or three days out of the month,” and “Tommie is too boring to move to Denver.” But it seems that the good professor’s profession will serve as the source of drama in coming months, as he quickly becomes an easy connection for pill-happy tourists looking to soothe their minds by ingesting the best that the pharmaceutical industry has to offer. Having learned just what happens when you come between an addict and their fix, Ari will be cheerfully writing prescriptions to whatever fresh-faced pill-poppers wander into his office.

Crankshaft, 8/31/09

Ha ha, it’s funny because Crankshaft is comparing his job as a school bus driver in a sleepy small middle American town with that of a soldier in Iraq who might be blown to bits with an IED! Of course, he is surrounded at all times by people who want to kill him, with explosives.

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Dick Tracy, 8/13/09

OK, when I see “cutting” bandied about as a noun like this, I think immediately about people who self-harm. However, it’s obvious that Dick Tracy lacks the depression, self-doubt, vulnerability, and ability to feel emotional pain of any sort for that to be what he’s proposing; plus, he’s offering the suggestion with an unseemly amount of enthusiasm. Therefore, I can only assume that he’s actually planning to perform an impromptu autopsy on our poor dead trapeze artist, right there on the floor of the Big Top. “The sawdust will easily absorb the blood!”

Oh by the way, Dick, IT WAS THE CLOWN THAT DID IT. THE CLOWN WITH THE SOULFUL, SHIFTY EYES. HE KILLED HER. AND SENT THE NOTE. JUST FYI.

Mark Trail, 8/13/09

It’s now clear that we can’t refer to this gun-toting, orange-clad individual as an assassin, or even as a hit man, but nevertheless I’m beginning to really sort of be in awe of him. You have to respect the years of weapons training it must have taken for him to master the craft of not quite killing people. I wonder if every day he picks up his gun and shakes his head and thinks, “Thank goodness this rifle is in my capable hands. If you didn’t know what you were doing, you could really hurt someone with this!”

Crankshaft, 8/13/09

Since Cranksaft is, as near as I can tell, standing at floor level, I’m not sure whose perspective the first panel is supposed to be drawn from. One of the garden club ladies who drank too much gin and quietly slumped out of her front row seat onto the floor? The cheering throngs gathered in the public square to look up in adulation at their gardener-dictator giving a speech from a balcony, a scenario that frequently plays out in Crankshaft’s mind? Meanwhile, panel three is definitely one of the scariest things I’ve seen this week, and replicating or even approximating it in real life would probably loosen the tongues of everyone from the perps down at central booking to al Qaeda masterminds. “NO, NOT CRANKSHAFT! I’LL TELL YOU THE REAL ANSWER! JUST DON’T LET HIM NEAR ME!”

Ziggy, 8/13/09

If you’re going to be claiming ownership over sentient beings, Ziggy, perhaps you ought not to have acquired so many of them. You can wave paperwork around all you want, but why should you expect them to respect any system of law that perpetuates their enslavement? The grim expressions make it clear that a bloody revolt is in the offing, with each animal using its particular skills in the cause of their collective freedom. You don’t even want to know what that angry little fish is going to do to you.

(Psst! Interested in seeing a piece I did on various computers in various vehicles?)