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Archive: Crock

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It really is fun. The comics are fun!

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Mary Worth, 8/22/24

Oh, he’s listening, Estelle — he’s just horrified that you would think that, as a vet, he’d be OK with a zoo themed wedding. He has to deal with animals all day at work — do you think he wants to see all his human friends and family pretending to be animals, too? Plus he has issues with zoos on ethical grounds — putting wild creatures in cages is cruel! Maybe you two aren’t as simpatico as he thought!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 8/22/24

I tease about Glenwood’s entertainment offerings but you know who really must be starved for fun? The poor citizens of Hootin’ Holler. There’s exactly one television in town and you have to bribe the parson to get a look at it, the only radio station anyone can get mostly broadcasts NASCAR races, and it even seems like the traditional arts of folk music have passed this community buy. That’s why Silas, the town’s only real capitalist, is trying out giving the people what they want: wacky vaudeville-style act-out bits, with props. Sure, it’s free now, but once he gets the customers hooked, they’ll be more than willing to pay a little extra for their daily chuckle!

Crock, 8/22/24

Hey guys, remember the Wise Sage, the beloved (?) Crock character who lives in a cave (??) in the desert? Well, turns out he’s very old and lives out his every moment in agony, yet still forever hopes to stave off death, for at least one more moment, because he fears what might come after. Fun!

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Mostly military Thursday

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Mary Worth, 7/25/24

Hey, remember when Mary threw a surprise funeral for Wilbur’s fish? And lots of people Wilbur knew were there, and they all paid attention to Wilbur, and felt sorry for Wilbur? Wilbur sure remembers it! But now the era of paying attention to Wilbur is over, and all he has left to console himself with are his sad thoughts and his one alive fish. But what if … there were a way … with the resources he has at hand … to reproduce those heady, bygone days when all eyes and sympathy were on Wilbur? Wilbur is 100% going to Munchausen syndrome by proxy that fish, is what I’m saying.

Beetle Bailey, 7/25/24

I actually really enjoy the contrast between Sarge and Lt. Fuzz in the second panel here. Fuzz, an effete military bureaucrat, is pecking away at his laptop, indistinguishable from a middle manager at any civilian white-collar business. Meanwhile, Sarge, the masculine shaper of warriors, has only a single piece of paper on his desk, presumably containing a list of soldiers ranked by how thoroughly he has broken their spirits in preparation for the task of rebuilding them as dedicated killing machines.

Crock, 7/25/24

Algeria has huge oil and gas reserves; but the grinding colonial war there has disrupted production, and the people back home are now suffering through a fuel crisis while these two, who are supposed to be crushing the rebels and restoring the spoils of empire to the metropole, crack wise about farts from the safety of their fortified compound. Sad!

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So it goes

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Crock, 7/15/24

Ah, just another day in the French Maghreb, with a difficult march ahead for our Legionnaires, though at least they have a promise from their commanders that they’ll be cared for this time … but wait, what’s this? A white flag of surrender flying above the fort? Ominous! Presumably the stragglers will not be left by the wayside because there simply will be no stragglers: most of the men will summarily executed en masse by the insurgents of the liberation army, while Crock and the other the officers, having made a deal to save their own skin, slip through enemy lines back to heavily fortified Oran or Algiers. Don’t worry, my vulture friends, your cravings will be satisfied indeed!

Hi and Lois, 7/15/24

Ha ha, that was kind of a downer, sorry! Anyway, chores, amiright? You gotta do ’em? I do like that Lois is holding a laundry basket here; she’s not a nag, she’s just someone willing to shoulder her share of domestic labor, and she wants to make sure everybody else does, too.

Alice, 7/15/24

Look, I’m a big fan of 20th century novelist Kurt Vonnegut, but he was not a doctor and also he’s dead, so I would simply not seek medical advice from him. Of course, I also wouldn’t trust him to prescribe medication to my parrot, so I supposed it’s been well established that Alice and I are on different wavelengths in this regard.