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Panels from Momma and Crankshaft, 4/17/13

Occasionally here at the Comics Curmudgeon, we must remember that we exist to praise the comics as a visual medium, and so here we go: two comic panels that deftly convey what it’s like to be eating food and then you realize the food is terrible and you’re thinking about the social consequences of spitting the food out, maybe onto your plate or maybe just into your hand. Momma is having dinner at her son Thomas and his wife Tina’s house; one of the weird dynamics of the strip I’ve always queasily enjoyed is that Momma is terribly cruel to her daughter-in-law, and narratively it’s pretty clear that our sympathies are not supposed to be with her, and yet her number one complaint — that Tina’s cooking is awful — is also always presented as legitimate. Do you think that she deliberately feeds Momma disgusting food, as revenge, for everything? Meanwhile, in Crankshaft, the terrible food is coming from Lena, the bus drivers’ transportation manager, and her emotional relationship to the people who loathe her baking is an underdeveloped Crankshaft plot element. Still, does she lash out with crappy food because of the toxic psychic environment created by Crankshaft’s mere presence? Almost certainly.

Gasoline Alley, 4/17/13

If, like me, you suddenly realize you have no clear picture of how all the characters in Gasoline Alley’s aging, sprawling cast are related to each other, check out this sweet family tree, which has a 2004 copyright date and a 1995 web design aesthetic! Anyway, it turns out addled supercentenarian Walt Wallet is grandfather-in-law to Slim, against whom I’ve always harbored an unreasoning hatred (well, there are a few reasons). More to the point, despite his encroaching dementia and general good nature, he clearly holds the same low opinion of Slim that I do, which warms my shriveled black heart.

Slylock Fox, 4/17/13

Usually the Slylock Fox true/false trivia strips do a pretty good job of offering questions that could plausibly be either true or false. Still, today’s second question is just way, way too specific to be false, though that would be hilarious. “2) False. The Global Soap Project is an art collective that steals soap from hotels and uses it to create ephemeral bubble-sculptures that are displayed at invitation-only events at exclusive private art galleries in lower Manhattan. After everyone goes home, the remaining soap suds are flushed down the toilet. Suck it, soap-poor nations!”

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Momma, 2/21/13

It’s funny because Momma is down to her last five bucks and her son is a thief.

Funky Winkerbean, 2/21/13

Many, many comic strips have terrible dialogue, but the dialogue in Funky Winkerbean and sister strip Crankshaft is terrible in its own unique way — not from lack of craft or attention (Hi, Crock!), but its very opposite. Stare at a simple line like “How’s your room?” long enough and you’ll start to ask yourself if readers will remember the characters are traveling, or maybe think the question is whether they have enough room, say, to swing their arms or something? Then it’s down the rabbit-hole: “How’s your hotel room?” could be any hotel, so let’s go with “How’s your room in the hotel” to make it clear this Esteemed Figure is staying at the main convention hotel and not some off-strip dive, then plaster “Music Educ Asso  t” on the wall for good measure. Despite all that work — no, because of it — you wind up with overwrought phrases that seem unambiguous, but which no actual human would ever utter: “solo car date”, “dead man’s singles”, or “space heater in the basement” (for “water heater”).

More fundamental is the Quip Fail at the heart of this strip. Hotel ratings use stars, not letters, so “B-flat hotel” makes no sense even coming from a band leader Music Educator. My guess is that the joke started out star-related — maybe Sousa’s The Stars and Stripes Forever? — and then got reworked into its present form. But if “B-flat hotel” is really your punchline, own it, don’t bury it in these wads of bumf. Put it at the end, where punchlines go: “I won’t be staying there much, so I don’t mind a B-flat hotel.” And spare us Beardo’s in-strip affirmation of your character’s dubious wit. Exactly.

Wizard of Id, 2/21/13

It’s funny because it’s not golf.

Crankshaft, 2/21/13

Got that? A joke. Now laugh, God damn you!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Apartment 3-G, 2/18/13

Margo wakes up from her asphyxiation coma and just naturally assumes Tommie has dragged her home from yet another blackout bender.

Gasoline Alley, 2/18/13

Rufus needs to arrange a sham marriage in a hurry to secure his inheritance under the terms of a really terribly drafted will, but he can’t find a human volunteer because rich or poor, he’s still Rufus. Still, none of that excuses Joel pimping out his mule. And Becky’s enthusiasm for the arrangement is starting to creep me out.

Momma, 2/18/13

As Gertrude Stein once said of Oakland, “There is no there there.” At least not nearly enough for a vaccination scar.

Gil Thorp, 2/18/13

Oh imagine that, the peacock wasn’t really the magical score-enhancing reincarnation of his tragically dead brother after all, just the wayward pet of some amiable neighbor-doofus. But Scott will say anything to deny the plain truth: “Um, … do you mean today? The sun was in my eyes! Bitch set me up! What was that noise? She said she was 18! My dog ate it! Greedo shot first! I took a wide stance! It’s not you, it’s me! I thought they were tomato plants! I never got your message! She’s just a friend! I was drunk! The serpent beguiled me, and I did eat! How could I have known it was loaded? I swear nothing like this ever happened to me before! The heart wants what it wants! I didn’t see the sign! I was dead at the time — on the Moon, with Steve! Everybody does it! Wait, I was just holding it for somebody! Ida Know! NOT ME!”

— Uncle Lumpy