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Mary Worth, 11/1/15

As Apartment 3-G’s impending shutdown has shown, it’s a tough market out there for soap opera comic strips. Losers fade; winners adapt. That’s why Mary Worth is, right before our eyes, pivoting into the kind of action-oriented comic today’s readers crave. Olive is a young girl with supernatural powers. Today’s she’s only demonstrating prescience, but soon she might be able to move objects with her mind … or even kill. That’s why she needs Mary at her side to guide her to adulthood and keep her moral code intact. It will be a dangerous journey. It could go either way. But in Mary Worth, we’ll see Olive become a tremendous force of good, on the comics page — and, if we play our cards right, in a Netflix original TV series in the spring of 2017!

Crock, 11/1/15

The other day I was on the bus, and there were these two guys, one probably in his late 50s, the other in his 20s, and I’m pretty sure they didn’t know each other but were chatting in that way people on long bus rides sometimes do. I sat down near them in the middle of the conversation, so I’m not entirely clear on the context, but the younger guy was describing how his cousin (presumably around the same age) had committed suicide, and the older guy said, “Yeah, the Millennials are all weak-minded, I grew up in the ’70s when we were tough,” and I was completely flabbergasted. Anyway, it’s pretty common sport for anyone over 35 to shit on Millennials these days, and one of the great things about having comics like Crock written and drawn by very, very old people is to remind us that every generation was once young and irritating and viewed by its elders as worthy of unique and particular contempt. Don’t worry, kids, you’ll be old soon enough, and then everyone will forget all the selfie jokes.

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Crock, 9/26/15

Why did I recoil in disgust from Tuesday’s pee-soaked Beetle Bailey and yet genuinely chuckle at today’s camel-poop-centric Crock? I dunno, man, probably I’m just fickle, but I think it has a little to do with the attitudes of the two comic creatures. Otto looked sadistically thrilled at the prospect of pissing all over some innocent flowers; Quench the camel, meanwhile, just looks kind of pleased with himself for his quick thinking. “Yeah, you can kill me, bandit-man, but at least I gave back as good as I got, via pooping. That’s some solid wordplay-inspired defecation work on my part, if I do say so myself.”

(Side note: I remembered Quench’s name without having to look it up! I’m a sad, sad man who’s wasted his life.)

Funky Winkerbean, 9/26/15

Oh, God, this tape is going to be full of praise for anyone who managed to overcome her natural emotional defense mechanisms and fall in love with Les. I wish it were about sex stuff now!

Dennis the Menace, 9/26/15

All the neighborhood parents abruptly abandoned their homes and children several weeks ago, and these cookies are the last food they have left. Believe me, there’s nothing else! They’ve looked.

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Crock, (panels) 7/19/15

Say there, Crock Narration Box, I believe this is your very first appearance — congratulations, and welcome to the comics page! I hope you won’t mind a little constructive criticism from a long-time fan of Narration-Box classics like Phantom (“In the Bandar tongue!”), Apartment 3-G (“On the street, at the Tribeca Grill or maybe in their apartment …”) and — the Shakespeare of Narration Boxes — Amazing Spider-Man (Irony, anyone?“):

• First, credit where credit is due! The Lost Patrol’s gimmick is that they’re, well, lost, so good job maintaining the “fruitless search” narrative.
• You’re new here, but it’s “Narration Box,” OK? The panel frame doesn’t count — put a border around yourself, for decency’s sake.
• Finally show a little sympathy for your characters — when the joke is about them tripping over camel dung, “hot” and “steaming” are just twisting the knife.

Edge City, 7/19/15

Like Hi Flagston, Greg Wilkins, Frank DeGroot, and other stuck-in-time comics Dads, Len Ardin poses as a Gen-Xer, but his choice of music outs him as a Boomer. His music and, of course, his grotesquely swollen prostate.

Crankshaft, 7/19/15

Descending into madness, billionaire Howard Hughes grew obsessed with the spy drama Ice Station Zebra, watching it over and over. Here, Rose obsessively watches two Irish guys slug it out in a coal mine, scouring every scene for hidden clues that will help her make sense of her petty, vicious, empty life. She’s thaaaaat close to insight, she just knows it — but the answers just slip away every time. Of course it upsets her stomach — have a little compassion for the crazy old bat, you jerk. And take that damn hat off in the house.

Hi, everybody! I’m filling in until the 28th while Josh visits family and friends back East. Reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net if the site gives you any trouble. Enjoy!

— Uncle Lumpy