Archive: Judge Parker

Post Content

Click the banner to contribute to the Comics Curmudgeon. Details here.

Oh my gosh you guys hurry — it’s the last day of the Comics Curmudgeon Fall 2013 Fundraiser! Click the banner to contribute by credit-card or PayPal; email me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net to send a check or cash. Thank you!


Judge Parker, 10/17/13

Why it’s the Harrisons! Hello … Audrey! DUN DUN DUN DUN!!!!

Judge Parker, 6/21/13

Well, Audrey, the Parkers actually consider it their table, and you’ll be pretty *&^% lucky if they let you sit down at it, placecards or no.

But as the solitary drop of rain to have fallen on the Parkers’ parade in recent memory, dear Professor Harrison, won’t you please sit over here with us, and your husband too? May we freshen up those drinks for you? Now tell us, in careful, patient detail, leaving nothing out, all the ways that Alan Parker’s The Chambers Affair is a derivative, puerile, monotonous, steaming mass of gelatinous offal. We’ve got all night.

Back at the Parkers’ table, that is the purplest “California chablis” I’ve seen in my life. I’m beginning to think Sam and Abby aren’t very capable vintners.

Mark Trail, 10/17/13

Ah, the lunatic majesty of a Mark Trail plan. All he has to do is confront two heavily armed co-conspirators in the middle of a wilderness. What could possibly go wrong?

I do love the action pose in panel two — if that phone weren’t already dead, it would be in for one heck of a beating right now.

Crankshaft, 10/17/13

The joke is that Crankshaft thinks this is a joke. The shame is that he steps completely out of character to backstop a stupid golf gag. The tragedy is he’s even less appealing this way. The irony is that those charming panel-one leaves demonstrate a level of craft and imagination far beyond anything the text deserves.

Luann, 10/17/13

These little flickers of self-awareness never amount to anything.


— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 10/13/13 (panels)

What is the relationship between art and reality — among the dreamer, the dream, and the dreamed? Magritte gives us one viewpoint, Snuffy Smith another.

Snuffy reveals how the artist not only creates a work but selects its audience, source of his reputation and claims to authenticity. He is his own best example: once a mere usurper in Barney Google’s strip, he now asserts his own membership in the very elites who read his Sunday “throwaway panels” in their expansive flatlander newspapers or on high-falutin’ electronic devices. With a delicate hanky-dab at his nose, he rises — refined and redefined, “Snuffy” no more!

Judge Parker, 10/13/13 (panel)

Boy, this lady sure hates hats, doesn’t she?

Beetle Bailey, 10/13/13

You know, there are plenty of attractive and willing human partners around, like Sarge’s Sgt. Louise Lugg, Beetle’s Miss Buxley, and Killer’s groupies, but it’s all surrogates with these guys: robots, trees, and again with Beetle’s beloved pillow here. I’m just saying that’s kind of messed up.

Mary Worth, 10/13/13 (panel)

We had to wait a long time to see Mary’s head impaled on a fish, but I think we can all agree it was worth it.

Mutts, 10/13/13

Mooch ignores the comics’ prohibition of “FLICK” to imply that Earl has sex with his own parasites.


— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Apartment 3-G, 10/12/13

Every long-running drama has a character I call “the Dann”, after Dann Florek of TV’s Law and Order. The Dann’s role is to say or do anything — heedless of consistency, motivation, and common sense — that will advance the plot. Depending on where the writers want to go, it could be: “You know I’ve got your back.” / “I’ll have your badge for this!” / “I stand up for my detectives!” / “The Chief of D’s wants you gone!”, or for that matter, “There’s a funny noise in this room!” / “Who cut the cheese?”, or “Friendship is magic!” Sometimes the writers roll dice or play drinking games to decide what to make him do. It’s a tough gig being the Dann.


“Friendship is magic, dirtbag!”

Pity then poor Marty, Lu Ann’s art student and current Dann-doyenne of Apartment 3-G. Since May, this little whirlwind has gone from oppositional/defiant with the Governor of New York, hyper-vigilant and protective of her sad-sack father Cole, in denial about Cole’s PTSD–alcohol–head trauma–substance abuse–depression–chronic pain–being really stupid issues, intrigued/repelled by “bad girl” Tori, enraged that her Dad concealed his brain tumor from her, bingeing with Tori on booze and smokes, to simultaneously contemptuous of her father and furious with Lu Ann because of, um, the reasons? Oh yeah, and somewhere in there she dyed her hair.

But have all her Dann-ite exertions moved the plot of Apartment 3-G forward even one narrative inch? No, they have not: day after day, it’s still just two people standing in a room talking. I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I wish Tommie would come back and liven things up.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/12/13

“You may have cheated death, honey, but remain irremediably ignorant! Ha ha!”
“Lady’s got a point, Funky! Hu-yuck, Hu-yuck!”
And there’s your smirk, Josh — the perfect Funky Winkerbean!

Judge Parker, 10/12/13

Parkers are so accustomed to unearned cash they have a private slang for talking about it.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/12/13

Rex suspects some of those old Polaroids may have survived the bathhouse fire. Depending on her next move, Becka could be enjoying a long vacation and a big raise, or sharing a shallow grave with Buck. Tread lightly, Becka!


Hey, Josh is taking a week off and I’ll be here through Sunday the 20th. Drop me a line at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net if the site starts misbehaving. Enjoy!

Ooh, Becka. Oh, Becka! Beckabeckabeckabeckabecka!

— Uncle Lumpy