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Curtis, 4/21/09

Ah, the innocence of youth! Way back in 2004, I found it unrealistic that Barry Wilkins would drop the word “chutzpah” into conversation. That, of course, was before Barry’s elder brother belched out the nonsense word-sequence “Say, they’ve set up a children’s biodiversity crafts and games stand,” making any quibbles about culturally specific vocabulary very much besides the point. At least I’m sure that some human somewhere has actually said “chutzpah.”

Apartment 3-G, 4/21/09

Tommie, if you defend yourself from sinister Dr. Joe by turning that can of HAIR SPRAY™ brand hairspray into a makeshift flamethrower, à la Rorschach from Watchmen, I will take back every bad thing I ever said about you.

And speaking of bad things, let’s look at just exactly what it is that Tuesday’s comics thought would make good grist for some light-hearted humor, shall we?

Crock, 4/21/09

Starvation.

Hi and Lois, 4/21/09

The naked exercise of economic privilege.

B.C., 4/21/09

Treasonous collaboration with a murderous oppressor.

Funky Winkerbean, 4/21/09

The gradual but unstoppable physical decline each one of us faces as we age, every new day being another step towards the grave.

Marvin, 4/21/09

The pungent odor of human excrement.

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For many of us, the past six months have been a little rough. If the Comics Curmudgeon helped smooth things out, why not return the favor?



To contribute by PayPal® or credit card, click the banner. To send cash, check, fruitcake or loose gemstones, reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net for the address. Either way, thank you!

Why would any comic strip merely amuse or entertain its readers, when it could Speak Out on Important Concerns of Today’s Youth — who will totally not laugh at pathetic attempts to imitate their slang! Word up? For sha-zizzle, bros — and brosettes!

Crankshaft, 4/16/09

Hey, kids — don’t cheat! Because cheating cheats you and the game — and that helps the game win! You love the game, don’t you? Of course you do — that’s why you want it to win! And if that means you have to lose, well, suck it up! Get on the damn juice — for the sake of the game! Um, wait a minute; I’m a little confused here. Weren’t we supposed to have a flashback or something? CUE THE DAMN FLASHBACK!

Curtis, 4/16/09

Hey, kids — be true to yourselves, and all your dreams will come true. Of course, they’ll probably come true for somebody else — somebody whose idea of “true to himself” involves shameless ass-kissing.

Mark Trail, 4/16/09

Hey, kids — don’t smoke! And don’t become criminals! But if you do become criminals — really, really stupid criminals — don’t go out for an all-afternoon fishing trip without your smokes, because that is not how addiction works. At least do something right, fer Chrissake!

Spider-Man, 4/16/09

Hey, kids — do you know what to do in the event of an electrical fire? Do you:

• Stop it with a rubber mat? NO! — It will just bat the mat away — like a foul ball!
• Douse it with water? NO! — Water won’t douse an electrical fire — loser!
• Dress it up in a ridiculous spiky outfit? NO! — Electrical fires have no shame, and will appear in public thus garbed!
• Stop it with a can of sand? NO! — I pan your can of sand, my man — electric fires withstand such plans!
• Perhaps if I employed a bucket? NO! — and watch your damn mouth, kid!
• Well, what if I call Spider-Man? OK, you’re just messing with me now.

Zippy the Pinhead, 4/16/09

Well, maybe not “Slim Jim.” But we’re with you the rest of the way, pal.

What the hell is wrong with these people? — an occasional feature!

Edge City, 4/6, 9, 10, 14, 15, 16/09

What the hell is wrong with these people?

— Uncle Lumpy

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Mary Worth, 4/4/09

I suppose this strip is supposed to be interesting because it contains one of Dr. Jeff’s occasional and doomed attempts to become a Man Of Action, but to be honest I’m much more interested in his trademark green jacket. Presumably he bought it years ago from a Masters Tournament winner in desperate need of cash (John Daly?), and now wears it at all formal events to show his contempt for bourgeois notions that clothes should be “attractive to look at” or “match.” Still, look at the way he’s carrying it around Mary’s apartment at arm’s length. It’s almost as if he finds wearing it any longer to be an exhausting prospect, but its totemic power is such that he’s afraid to set it down or turn his back on it. He particularly needs to be wary of laying it on Mary’s mustard-colored sofa, because the resulting color clash could rip a hole in the fabric of space-time itself.

(UPDATE: As faithful reader willethompson pointed out, John Daly never won the Masters; I blame confusingly worded Wikipedia infoboxes. For a non-golf-fan, the appeal of a cheap “drunk and desperate John Daly” joke was too strong to resist.)

Archie, 4/4/09

These three panels of Archie contain all the power of a Greek tragedy. A blind (or, in this case, bespectacled) sage notes the rot that is destroying his culture from the inside out, but is powerless to do anything but comment. Then, like poor doomed Pentheus, he is torn to bits by a mob of crazed women.

Family Circus, 4/4/09

Normally, when the Keane Kids mangle the English language and/or basic common sense to make one of the subpuns or moronic bits of wordplay that are this beloved feature’s stock in trade, they just stare ahead with blank, dumb expressions while doing so, as the gags’ accidental nature is supposedly part of their charm. In this panel, though, Billy and Jeffy seem to be amused by the former’s wisecrack. This could herald a dangerous new phase, in which the melonheads, having somehow become aware of the fact that they are being cut out of the newspaper and hung on the refrigerators of nice old ladies everywhere, ramp up their cloying cuteness to unbearable levels. On the other hand, it’s possible that they’re just amused by the prospect of eating their grandmother’s head.

Curtis, 4/4/09

One of this strip’s most common running gags involves Curtis asking his father for a cell phone, and his father informing him that cell phones are too expensive. Thus, I must conclude that the strip’s creator has no idea what text messages are. Perhaps he thinks they somehow involve a tennis racket.