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The Comics Curmudgeon Spring 2010 Fundraiser

Click above to contribute by credit card or PayPal, here to contribute by check, or here for more details — Thanks!

Gasoline Alley, 3/23/10

For better or for worse, many comics rely on wordplay for humor. Here’s a typical example, in which a simple misunderstanding will launch days and days of escalating overreactions and hilarious hijinks.

We almost lost Old Walt once before. A few years ago, Gasoline Alley ran a sweet story about his impending retirement to an Old Comics Home, where he could reminisce with the likes of Smokey Stover, the Yellow Kid, and other contemporaries (he was “born” in 1900; his son Skeezix is pushing 90). They ended that story abruptly, yanking Walt back here to be neglected by Gertie, mishear and misspeak stuff, and generally be the butt of old-guy jokes. I like to think the Old Comics Home was a kind of Heaven, and that Walt must’ve committed some unpardonable sexual sin during his wait to get in. You go, Walt!

Crankshaft, 3/23/10

Speaking of “butt of old guy” jokes, there’s nothing celestial about Ed Crankshaft’s, um, wordplay. Panel two’s “lukecold” is actually one of his better attempts, although neither Pam nor we can raise our eyes to it from the horror below. But there’s no excuse for “space heater” in panel one. Honestly, guys – “There must be something wrong with the water heater”/”My shower was lukecold!” How hard is that?

Luann, 3/23/10

Quill gives Luann ambiguously phrased, ridiculous singing advice, which Luann first misunderstands for Chinese, then takes to heart. Next week, we’ll all enjoy her solo performance of “Nnnnngh, nnngh, mmmmmmmmf!” sung with no eye contact whatsoever.

Apartment 3-G, 3/23/10

And in other news… OK, I think we can call it official — Armed lunatic junkie skank Bobbie Merrill is Martin Magee’s wife, Gabriella’s rival, Margo’s stepmom, Dr. Papagoras’s lover, and there’s gonna be hell to pay.

Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

Mary Worth, 3/23/10

Hey, remember yesterday when I suggested Mary’s mysterious “return” might be an overdue library book? Note to self: never, ever attempt to out-lame Mary Worth.

Hey, it’s the Spring 2010 Fundraiser — any cash you can spare to support Josh’s work here will be greatly appreciated — thank you!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Mary Worth, 3/22/10

Ladies and gentlemen, our long national frolic has ended, and just as we’d hoped — with a Charterstone pool party! Mary helpfully excuses Wilbur’s manic episode by reminding us his sensible lady friend Iris was out of town. But what can Mary mean by “returns”? Have her widows’ stocks declared dividends? Is Carlos Alora back on the job as groundskeeper? Dare we hope for Zombie Aldo? More likely, she just needs to get that copy of The Shorter Bartlett’s Quotations back to the library. Those fines add up.

9 Chickweed Lane, 3/22/10

One of the most annoying tendencies of serial strips is to sanctify characters until they lose all capacity for drama or comedy. Judge Parker‘s Sam Driver, Steve Roper, and Funky Winkerbean‘s bandleader Harry Dinkle has each in his turn been neutered, cast in plaster, and set up on a shelf for admiration in lieu of entertainment.

In its current story 9 Chickweed Lane — already in the running for most annoying strip in the history of ever — is going for a twofer. Mean-spirited bully Edna O’Malley (née Ernst) has already been recast as a dewy, chaste, ever-so-talented, misunderstood patriot. And here, in a single panel, her future husband is transformed from a lieutenant busted for a pointless and bungled espionage attempt into a noble set-upon war hero. Could we please have the cat back? I mean, if it’s not off in Africa curing malaria or something.

Herb and Jamaal, 3/21/10

Just when you think Herb and Jamaal has reached the top of its game, it breaks new ground. Generic dialogue? No dialogue at all! Bland characters? Unknown bland characters (Herb and Sarah’s flat-topped son Ezekiel, impy neighbor Willie, and Willie’s dad, um…)! Labored, arbitrary setups? You ain’t seen nothin’ yet! And icing on the cake, a heartwarming Mary Worth-style quotation from Malcolm X. ‘Cause if that man stood for anything, it’s that it’s OK to let yourself be victimized, as long as you can be smug about it.

Gil Thorp, 3/22/10

Underemployed dropout Steve Luhm here puts right his slightly icky will-they-or-won’t-they flirtation with Milford B-baller Cassie Corman. Cassie has a well-established taste for older boys — they don’t even have to be much older, and from the look of Ray Richey there, just about any boy will do. Well, Steve’s having none of it, and oh hey look Milford’s closing in on the point spread and Kinsella’s still on fire. Excuse me, I gotta call my bookie.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Today’s comics prove that the right weapon can nurture a relationship’s fragile beginning, extend its blissy peak, or bring it to a swift, bitter end — let’s see how!

The Phantom, 3/19/10

Here, Ghost-Who-Walks and Captain-Who-Stalks enjoy a rousing round of armaments-themed flirting. It won’t be long before those torpedo doors fly open, the heavy ordinance rumbles from its below-decks shotlocker, and a gleaming projectile slides its way all snug up inside that smokin’ hot barrel.

Next: BOOM!, a shared cigarette, and lounging around in purple bathrobes.

Beetle Bailey, 3/19/10

Poor Major Greenbrass’s wistful longing for General Halftrack glows soft as a candle beside Sarge’s white-hot torch for Beetle. But still, when stirred by the roar of massed air and ground forces, the Major manages to gin up a heroic narrative exalting his beloved’s pathetic shortcomings to the grand scale of epic failures by history’s other insecure, tyrannical, nutjob runt.

Apartment 3-G, 3/19/10

Drug-addled, vengeance-crazed, and Papagoras-blather-benumbed, Bobbie nevertheless understands illegal commerce better than her mugger-turned-gun-dealer pal! Let’s go over the basics for him:

• Muggers have the upper hand in their transactions; salespeople don’t. Customers won’t cower like your victims did.
• People buy untraceable guns specifically to commit crimes; some of them will get caught. Therefore, do not create traceable associations with your customers!
• This specifically means do not accompany customers into banks, lest you be photographed together. ProTip — wearing a hoodie into a bank will not help you escape attention.
• Don’t confuse your customer by asking why you should trust her: your profession is founded on mistrust. And what’s the worry? That she’ll give you someone else’s cash? Seriously, even if she bails on you, you’re out what — busfare?
• Think ahead: once you give her the gun, why shouldn’t she mug you for her money back? This is Margo’s insane evil stepmother we’re talking about, right?

Mary Worth, 3/19/10

Alas, sometimes the love is real but the artillery only a reader’s earnest fantasy. Could anything less than murder avenge the months of graceless frolicking, the arid Marylessness, and the interminable sandwichery we’ve endured for a payoff as insipid as, “I learned fatherhood from a man who was not my father.” I swear, we had better get a pool party out of this mess.

Speaking of messes, you have to credit the hilarious squalor of the life Kurt fled and now reëmbraces. Bare lath on every wall, mirror cracked in ways mirrors don’t crack, every picture and doorframe askew. Kurt looks glad to see his pregnant girlfriend, though. He must not know the child is Wilbur’s.

Spider-Man, 3/19/10

Yak yak yak ogle yak yak yak yak yak. This is like 9 Chickweed Lane, with bigger chins and less actual fighting.

Crankshaft, 3/19/10

Pam’s pinchlipped scorn gives way to shock that her husband is as big a douche as her father, and that her creators still have no idea how to set up a joke — except for the cruel one they inflict on her, day after endless day.

Hey, Josh is off on vacation out in scenic Undisclosed Location; I’m subbing for the week. If you have site issues, please contact me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net — to reach Josh personally, try bio@jfruh.com but expect a wait.

— Uncle Lumpy