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Archive: Pardon My Planet

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Sacred Tuesday

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Gasoline Alley, 4/2/24

I realize that a lot of fiction essentially consists of making up a guy to get mad at so you can be happy when he loses, but I feel like Walt and Skeezix seething with rage and despair because a town name change has been proposed by a guy named Elbert Imeswine is a little much. He’s not going to do it, guys, and he’s not going to get elected! This is the sort of thing that wouldn’t happen in real life and extremely wouldn’t happen in a strip that has the same name as the town in question, especially when all the strip has keeping it alive as a media property is the fact that its name is deeply engrained enough in our collective consciousness as to elicit vague feelings of recognition from people who have never read it, or read a newspaper.

Pardon My Planet, 4/2/24

Halos are derived in origin from an artistic practice in many cultures of depicting holy or divine figures with a glowing circle behind their heads, implying an internal radiance. Things got weird as artists learned how to create more naturalistic perspective in their work, and these circles became a sort of floating disk (as in this 15th century painting) before evolving into the glowing hula hoop we know and love today. Anyway, it’s nice to see the disk form making a comeback in today’s Pardon My Planet, but that’s about the only thing that’s nice about it. Hey, Pardon My Planet, you familiar with Matthew 22:30? “At the resurrection people will neither marry nor be given in marriage; they will be like the angels in heaven”? Heresy much?

Pluggers, 4/2/24

Oh my gosh, this plugger seems to have discovered the Holy Grail! I’m sure that newspaper includes information that will transform our knowledge of history and religious studies; commodities prices are probably among the less splashy bits of data it contains, but they’re still important for helping us understand the time period.

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Ahh, the famously sleepy comics characters. Gang’s all here

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Blondie, 3/14/24

Dagwood Bumstead’s inhumanly vast appetite is so well known that it obscures one of his other unnatural qualities — namely, his ability to nap anywhere, at any time. As a middle-aged man like Dagwood, every time I see him in his traditional couch-sleeping position I think about how I personally wouldn’t be comfortable with my knees bent up like that for more than few minutes, let alone the hours we’re supposed understand he spends snoozing. Normally he’s in that position because his couch is too short for him to stretch out, so it actually really bothers me that his imagination can’t summon up a couch long enough to fit him, Beetle, and Garfield alike, even thought I know the reason why (the reason is clip art). Thankfully, this base level of annoyance is stopping me from trying mentally rotate Beetle into a position that would demonstrate how very much not the same size he and Dagwood are.

Hagar the Horrible, 3/14/24

Look at the bear’s face! It’s not “dancing” at all. Any bear-themed entertainment aimed at an audience of bloodthirsty Vikings is absolutely going to end with the bear eviscerating its poor “dance partner,” just like the “dancing school” Hagar attended was actually the Viking war band that plundered half of Europe, where he learned his skills in the “dance” of combat before killing his chieftain and taking his place.

Pardon My Planet, 3/14/24

I guess I can imagine that some people who showed up to an advertised “slugfest” would be disappointed if the fighters were not ordinary human beings, but rather freakish ten-foot-long slug-beasts of a kind unknown to science. But I think most of them would be OK with it.

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Does he think the pigs are, like, collectivized or something

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Shoe, 3/9/24

The bird-people of Shoe generally have two emotional registers: horrified and very depressed. So I’m pleased that Shoe has discovered a third one, even though it’s apoplectic rage. The Perfesser has mostly slept through it, but it’s still an important step.

Pardon My Planet, 3/9/24

Not sure what’s worse here: that Pardon My Planet doesn’t know what socialism is, or that Pardon My Planet doesn’t know why that piggy was going to market.

Gil Thorp, 3/9/24

Gil has tried a lot of tactics for getting his student-athletes to improve their performance — coaching them, not coaching them, coaching them but real half-assed, getting other people to coach them for him, and so forth. But it turns out that the best technique of all is to simply exude the pleasant vibes that can only be created by sexual satisfaction.