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Funky Winkerbean, 11/11/08

Every long-running narrative form drifts towards its own extremes, which explains how Funky Winkerbean went from being an occasionally melancholy strip about high school hijinks to a charnel house. Hopefully today’s near-wordless installment is about to take things to the next level: instead of being struck down by alcoholism or cancer or garden-variety despair, Montoni is going to be devoured by the rampaging Tyrannosaurus Rex that has escaped from a secret underground genetics lab, and is now eating everything in sight. Hopefully, the new accelerated pace of death will kill off all the strip’s characters in short order, opening us up for a new, happier beginning, or at least three blank panels a day in which nobody weeps openly.

Crankshaft, 11/11/08

Meanwhile, over in the “fun” Funkyverse strip, the complex issue of Afghan poppy cultivation — which is the only means that many impoverished Afghan farmers have to make a living, but which fuels terrorism and religious extremism in the region and desperate addiction in the United States — provides the source material for a terrible joke about pastries for Crankshaft to squint angrily at. Crankshaft is irritated by this news report, naturally, because it promises that the smack that makes his life bearable will be more expensive in the coming months.

Apartment 3-G, 11/11/08

The third-stringers continue to stink up the field here in Apartment 3-G, as Gary, completely rattled by a little razzing from Dr. Kelly, flails emotionally at Tommie for no reason. “You two work together. Is he always a little … ODD???? Hey, don’t walk so far away when I’m shouting paranoid nonsense at you!” It’s just as well that Tommie found out that Gary can’t deal with difficult people now, before she took him home to be terrified by Margo.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/11/08

“Seriously, no more! Your heterosexual shenanigans repulse me.”

Marmaduke, 11/11/08

“Guess who’s got rabies! Me, soon enough.”

Pluggers, 11/11/08

OH FOR THE LOVE GOD NO PLUGGERS AND GARAGE CLEANING NOOOOOO

(For you Johnny- and Janey-come-latelies who don’t know what “garage cleaning” is code for, travel back in time.)

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Mary Worth, 11/9/08

So for weeks now we’ve been watching the slow-motion buildup in this storyline, seeing Frank berate his sad sub-Olympic-level daughter, and wondering “When? When will the meddling begin? For the love of God, when?” Today, my friends … today is the day that the meddling begins. In the final panel, you can get a sense of the terrible wrath about to be unleashed as Mary’s face turns unnaturally blue and yellow and radiates pure meddling-energy. Her awesome and horrifying third eye is also beginning to become visible.

By the way, Frank, in case you’re wondering, it was the phrase “Mary, don’t interfere!” that sealed your fate. You may as well have danced in front of a lion shouting “Lion, don’t chew off my genitals!” while wearing underwear made of raw meat.

Dennis the Menace, 11/9/08

Here’s another entry in my occasionally interesting series of Comics Whose Tones Are Fundamentally Changed By The Throwaway Panels. Without that first row — which doesn’t appear in all newspapers — this strip consists of stomach-churning anti-menacing, in which our supposed hellion asks a loving God to shine grace upon all the people in his life, even those with whom he has an adversarial relationship. However, the opening panels reveal Dennis’s fundamental disbelief in anything so trite as a “happy ending.” In that light, his prayers can be read as a desperate plea to stave off the inevitable pain, heartbreak, and sorrow that will afflict his friends and neighbors.

And speaking of pain, heartbreak, and sorrow…

Funky Winkerbean, 11/9/08

“Okay, everybody! Say: achievement! Because even though you’re all 47 or 48 and yet look fifteen years older, it’s quite an ‘achievement’ that you survived being struck dead by cancer, or war, or cancer, or general despair.”

Also! In unrelated news, this week Amos and Edda, the two lead characters in 9 Chickweed Lane, finally had the sex, as indicated through the cartoonist’s usual elliptical methods. I read 9CL but don’t comment on it much, mostly because it’s simultaneously better in many ways than most of the strips I make fun of here and also is irritating to me in ways that don’t produce humorous commentary but rather just peevishness. However, all week commentors have been demanding my opinion on the Great Deflowering, which finally led me to write, in the comments section of the previous post, the following:

A comic appears on this site is not because something momentous happens in it, but because I can think of something funny to say about it. I can think of nothing funny to say about the aggressively virginal ape-faces in 9CL finally deciding to fuck and/or hand jive, for some reason. Sorry.

Upon reflection, though, that is actually a kind of funny thing to say, if I do say so myself, so I thank all of you for pushing me out of my comfort zone.

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Pluggers, 10/27/08

It’s well documented that the definition of “plugger” is notoriously slippery. For instance, before today, you probably didn’t realize that typical, average Americans who sit around the kitchen table out of their minds on a psychedelic mix of prescription medications are in fact pluggers! The shocking revelation that even pillheads can be pluggers leads us to ask: who else is a plugger?

Apartment 3-G, 10/27/08

Alan’s parents are probably pluggers! That’s why they hate and fear the great city of New York, refusing to bury him there, instead taking him home to a simple, all-American rural Maine cemetery. This move on their part has put an end to Margo’s brief experience of something resembling human tenderness, as she prepares to leap to the defense of her home city, and I have to come in on her side here. After all, it’s not as if Alan’s going to overdose at his own funeral, seeing as he’s already dead and all. And if his burial service is thronged by crazed junkies who ultimately pull his body from the casket and attempt to grind it up and smoke/snort/inject it so as to enjoy the residual dope still in his veins — well, isn’t that what he really would have wanted? It would certainly be more fun than the “private service” his parents have planned, with the glassy-eyed, pill-numbed plugger hordes drooling aimlessly in the pews.

Wizard of Id, 10/27/08

The peasants in Wizard of Id are also pluggers, because they’re staying cheerful and making do with what they’ve got! In this case, “what they’ve got” is their rickety wooden furniture, and “making do” involves burning it for heat. Because they live in desperate, crushing poverty, you see! Ha ha! The nonstop larfs will continue as they turn first to prostitution and then to cannibalism.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/27/08

The Funky Winkerbeaners are perpetually glum and despondent, so they do not in fact qualify for plugger status. I find it interesting that Les needs to consult the yearbook so as to successfully navigate his high school reunion. True, everyone in the cast has aged horribly, due to various cancers and general soul-blighting depression, but as far as I know, virtually all of them have remained in town, so it’s not like their current wizened state should be a surprise to Les. Hell, half of them work with him, either at the high school or the pizzeria, Winkerburg apparently being a black hole of misery from which no joy can escape.