Archive: Hi and Lois

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Hi and Lois, 9/22/18

Ha ha, there’s nothing that says “I love my son” like telling your wife as she walks by, completely within his earshot, “Look, I’m sitting right next to him here on the couch! You were wrong when you said I didn’t love him!” But really, the big shoutout in this strip has to go to Chip, who’s alternating between looking at his phone and reading that magazine he has draped over the arm of the couch. He doesn’t want to be there any more than Hi does!

Spider-Man, 9/22/18

J. Jonah Jameson of course discarded the traditional obituary section years ago, merging it with the wedding announcements to create a weekly “Life Moments” supplement that you have to pay to be featured in. But I assume that if Spider-Man died from some combination of being shot multiple times and suffocating from poison gas, it’d be a gleeful banner headline, for what’s that’s worth.

Marvin, 9/22/18

“Since American suburbia is bereft of truly public spaces, I thought we were going to wander around this commercial center merely for the purpose of experiencing the slow passage of time towards our inevitable and meaningless deaths in a location other than our home, for once. But you entered a series of stores with the intention of exchanging money for goods! What a twist!”

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Spider-Man, 9/12/18

God bless this hilarious audience of nogoodniks, who are already extremely riled up and shaking their fists in rage before the meeting has even begun! I’m particularly intrigued by the phrase “so-called crime summit”: is our bespectacled thug questioning the very nature of “crime,” rejecting a label placed on his business activities by a government apparatus for which he holds no respect? Or is he disputing the term “summit,” since the theater setting seems to imply less a meeting of equals seeking consensus than a scenario where Kingpin and Golden Claw impose their will from the stage on a passive “audience” of lesser criminals?

Hi and Lois, 9/12/18

There are, in the end, two types of men in the world, and you have to decide which one you want to be. Are you a Thirsty, who’s so determined to assert his autonomy from his wife that he deliberately gorges himself at lunch to the point of nausea, sky-high cholesterol be damned? Or are you a Hi, who obediently sips a cup of broth for lunch so that by the time he gets home his stomach is empty, so empty, and he can properly stuff himself to bursting under his wife’s cruel, stern eye, asking “Now is dinner finished?” before each course only to be told “Dinner is finished when I say it’s finished.”

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Hi and Lois, 9/2/18

Can you imagine if your all-powerful creator diety died? Imagine the sense of mourning, of emptiness that would hang over your whole universe in that scenario. And then you’d have to contemplate the possibility that it was only His constant new acts of creation that kept the world running, and that without that impetus maybe the tide would beging to shift the other way. “Old cartoonists never die. They just erase away,” says Lois, worrying that perhaps her own reality will soon begin to erase itself, removing her and everyone she loves from existence.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/2/18

Well, it looks like Millie was just waiting for one last visit from her high school boyfriend so he knew how hot she was before finally dropping dead. At least she died as she lived: slinging cheap food to ungrateful patrons at a mediocre diner, and dreaming of the day, just around the corner but always out of reach, when she’d be able to retire.

Mary Worth, 9/2/18

Oh, man, it’s a mean old man and his angry dog! He actively refuses Mary’s gift of food! This is going to be her greatest challenge yet! Watch out, Mr. Wynter: your life is about to have the the hell meddled out it. Dead wife? Estranged kids? Prickly exterior makes it hard to make friends? Mary will find your trauma and will force you to process it emotionally until you are fixed.