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Bizarro and Six Chix, 2/2/24

Were you, as an adolescent, fascinated by Dante’s Inferno, and in particular by the book’s weird geography, in which hell is a kind of cone under the Earth’s surface, with each “circle” a ledge on which some ironic and awful punishment is dished out on unfortunate sinners? Or were you, unlike me, normal? If the former, you are truly primed to appreciate and perhaps even create today’s Six Chix, which some might fight offensive to Italians but I consider a true delight even though the pun is a little bit of a stretch. If the latter, you might produce today’s other Dante comic. Get it, OMG=”Divine” and LOL=”Comedy”? This is the product of the normie mind and frankly doesn’t deserve the label “bizarre” at all.

Pardon My Planet, 2/2/24

If one of your deep-seated fantasies is cruelly taunting women on social media for going to the bathroom, because you get off on the idea of them having to sit there uncomfortably and hold it until your issue your approval via Facebook comments, then I guess it’s better to write a syndicated newspaper comic strip about it than it is to actually do it? Like, more people will know about it from a comic, which is bad, because nobody should know about this, it’s obviously very shameful, but at least you’re not actually targeting any specific women, and women in general now have a pretty good sense that they should steer clear of you.

Beetle Bailey, 2/2/24

Ha ha, artificial intelligence, am I right? It would certainly be crazy if AI were to replace Beetle and Sarge. Now I know what you’re thinking: given that today’s strip involves a close up on our two characters whose facial expressions barely change and who are standing in a featureless, backgroundless void, how do we know that AI hasn’t already replaced them, in the sense of writing this strip? Well, just as an experiment, I asked ChatGPT to write a Beetle Bailey on this topic:

Yes, well, there you have it: the soulless machine produces dialogue even less funny than the Walker-Browne Humor Industries LLC sweatshop, somehow tries to drag things out over four panels like this is 1959 and the comics pages have infinite space to fill, gets minor details wrong (have you ever seen “polishing boots” as one of Beetle’s assigned tasks?), and seems to think that Beetle and Sarge like each other.

But what about comics bloggers? Could they be replaced by a shiny cybernetic robot?

I feel like this is something that would’ve shocked every ’60s sci-fi writer churning out pulp novels and short stories about killer robots while out of their mind on benzedrine, but the thing about AI is that it isn’t mean enough to be funny. It’s called the Comics Curmudgeon, you pablum-spewing chatbot! Get back to me when you’re prepared to say that Beetle and Sarge engaging in “banter” isn’t enjoyable for anyone!

Anyway, tune in next time, dear readers, as we explore the unpredictable landscapes of the funny pages. Until then, keep those comics coming, and don’t forget to share your thoughts in the comments. Over and out!

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Dick Tracy, 9/12/23

Sprocket Nitrate has managed to extract herself from the crumbling criminal enterprise in which she was entangled and has laid her hands on a fake passport and, you know what, good for her! Now she faces her greatest challenge yet: will she be able to bring herself to put on shoes as she flees the country? Criminal syndicates tend to have fairly relaxed workplace dress codes, but in my experience you really do need to wear shoes to board an international flight.

Mary Worth, 9/12/23

Ha ha, bet you thought that Saul and Eve getting married and paying their respects to Mary last week would signal that this week, finally, we would finally embark on a new adventure. Turns out nope! Turns out we’re stuck here forever. Truly wild that this storyline began with a lurid dogfighting plot and is going to end with an old man trying to figure out how much of his stuff he should donate to the Goodwill.

Pardon My Planet, 9/12/23

What with the combination of the classic winged-angels-standing-on-clouds depiction of heaven, reincarnation, “soul companion,” and the idea that the spirit might remain tied to the body even after death, I’m going to say something I never thought I’d say: there’s way too much going on theologically in today’s Pardon My Planet.

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Pardon My Planet, 6/17/23

Look, I am not a vegetarian (anyone who’s met me IRL will have a good chortle at me having to preface anything with this), but if you’re doing a comic set up where a guy dies and appears in the afterlife festooned with beef-eating paraphernalia only to discover that the gates to paradise are guarded by one of the very creatures he so loved to eat, you’d better follow through with it. This guy has just arrived in his personal hell, is how this strip would go if a coward hadn’t written it, whereas a divine bovine letting bygones be bygones is a truly limp “punchline.” On the other hand, I guess the implication may be that the guy died in agony in some sort of grilling accident, which I may be willing to accept.

Daddy Daze, 6/17/23

The thing about Marvin is that it just fills me with contempt and disgust, whereas Daddy Daze is still novel and weird enough to me that it instead inspires a kind of existential dread and honest fear. What was the first thing that was like changing diapers that we miss because we enter in media res? What was it? It will haunt my dreams tonight.

Gil Thorp, 6/17/23

Despite losing some key players to the juvenile justice system, the boys’ baseball team has finally figured out the secret to playdown success: just ignoring Gil’s attempts at coaching altogether, and to actively tell him to knock it off if he gets insistent with it.