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B.C., 9/13/06

I can no longer get worked up about the fact that B.C. makes jokes about semi-obscure aspects of golf culture as if everyone’s going to get it, or the fact that said jokes aren’t funny even for those who know what the strip’s referring to. However, I do have to object to this strip being based around not just a lame-ass joke, but the totally incorrect genre of lame-ass joke. The fact that whatshisname and, uh, the other one are standing around the “Show Me” rock means that this ought to be an example of the strip’s patented non-hilarious “Show Me” joke, where the cavedude on the left starts a sentence with “Show me” and the cavedude on the right comes up with a pithy and supposedly witty response. (Actual non-hilarious example from 1990 that I found online: “Show me a girl who curls up with a good novel every night…” “…and I’ll show you a broad who lives in a bookmobile.”) This strip may provide evidence for one of my darker suspicions: that Johnny Hart has dozens of predrawn “Show Me” strips (and, presumably, “You Know” strips and “Wiley’s Dictionary” strips) just waiting for the dialogue to be filled in, and today he was so worked up about rude golf spectators that he just sort of forgot that he was supposed to do a “Show Me” joke.

The saddest part is that this bit could actually have been done as a legitimate “Show Me” strip: “Show me a golf tournament where they shout ‘You the man!’…” “…and I’ll show you a golf tournament that sells tickets to morons, too.” It does some violence to the joke and isn’t very funny, but hey, this is B.C.

Mark Trail, 9/13/06

Boy, when this Mark Trail storyline got started, it seemed like it was going to be about poaching. Three months ago, who could have predicted that it would climax with an angry mob led by a sinister chicken-kicking beekeeper attempting to kill a lovable, confused tame bear who almost killed her owner by french-kissing him while he was driving? How do they come up with these twists and turns for the plot? I bet it helps to be totally insane.

For Better Or For Worse, 9/13/06

Yesterday we learned that when Anthony thinks sexy thoughts about Liz, Liz looks sexy. Today we learn that when Liz thinks sexy thoughts about Anthony, Liz looks sexy. Presumably this imbalance exists because it’s not possible for Anthony to look sexy.

Pluggers, 9/13/06

You’re a plugger when your prescriptions cost more than your groceries, but every time anyone tries to discuss some kind of socialized medicine program, you start ranting about “God damn liberal commie Hillary-care.”

Apartment 3-G, 9/13/06

And that was the day that Tommie decided for sure that she liked girls better.

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Funky Winkerbean, 9/8/06

Is Funky Winkerbean where joy goes to die? It’s not enough to have Mopey McMopester slouching around and complaining because his best friend is finally getting some; apparently, his face needs to be drawn to make it look like he’s been crying more or less constantly for the past three days. My prediction is that our jilted nerd will eventually get together with this gothy Asian chick; but, by the time they get around to doing glum, black-clad things to one another, the other kid and the cheerleader will have broken up. Either that, or Chien and Jessica have some longstanding beef that will sunder this friendship for good. Because nobody can be happy in Funky Winkerbean, ever.

Luann, 9/8/06

Meanwhile, there are changes afoot at a much happier high school, as Gunther and Luann do a half-assed thought-balloon version of the classic dialogue from Double Indemnity. I wonder if what Luann is wondering is, “Jesus, how is it possible for Gunther to have tiny, beady little pupils and no eyeballs to speak of? And what’s the deal with the huge expanse of skin between his eyes and his eyebrows?” That’s what I’m wondering, anyway.

Pluggers, 9/8/06

Q. How many pluggers does it take to reinforce traditional gender roles?

A. All of them.

This strip, which is apparently so retrograde that it the Chief Plugger got tired of waiting for someone to submit it and just whipped it up himself, poses an interesting philosophical question: Is there such a thing as a female plugger? Or is Pluggerdom an all-male brotherhood, with the best that anyone without external genitalia can hope for being the lesser but still honorable title of “plugger’s wife”? While this cartoon seems to imply the latter, remember that the Fox-Woman (or is she a kangaroo? or some kind of dog?) has already been established to have a job that involves wearing a suit, which complicates matters: maybe there are she-pluggers, but this woman is only a plugger-in-law. She’s clearly acclimating real nice, though. Wouldn’t want those soft, feminine hands, good for cleaning dishes and spanking li’l pluggers, all calloused up by rough, strenuous man’s work like changing the light bulbs. Hope you’re don’t mind sitting in the dark till your husband gets back from the pawn shop, lady.

Mary Worth, 9/8/06

You know you’re in trouble when the Woody Allen defense suddenly seems like a good idea.

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Spider-Man, 9/7/06

When we last checked in with the web-slinger, he had just been knocked unconscious by a sinister butler. Since then, I have refrained from commenting on the various indignities this strip has visited upon its readership. When the murderous manservant drove out to a cliff where he had somehow prearranged a camera set-up to record his snuff film, I stayed silent. When Spider-Man spent an entire strip being held at gunpoint claiming in his thought balloons that he couldn’t move without endangering the suddenly not-evil Narna, then moved out of the way the very next day, I said not a word. When Narna tried to save our hero by flinging an enormous rock, only to hit him in the back of the head — despite the fact that, in the panel where she threw the rock, Spidey was facing towards her — I held my tongue.

But this — this — cannot stand. Here we have crimes not just against logic and good sense, but a violation of some of the core rules of this genre, in which we expect the villain to be defeated, in one sense or another, by the hero, and not to be rubbed out by his own incompetence as the hero lies groggy on the ground, felled by one of his allies. I’ll bet the writers think that this is ironic. It is not ironic. The introduction and then immediate solving of a problem in last year’s loathsome health insurance storyline was bad enough, but this is an abomination that cannot be so easily forgiven. I damn thee, Spider-Man! I damn thee to superhero hell in the name of the unwritten but well-understood contract between author and reader! Anathema, anathema!

Apartment 3-G, 9/7/06

Beer! Is there anything it can’t do? Beer looks like it’s about to get Tommie laid, which would make it the most powerful substance on earth.

Now, you and I both know that Tommie isn’t going to get laid, of course. No doubt right as Ted is about to make his drunken move, Lucy’s going to show up, begging for forgiveness, and either she’ll see the two of them together and further sitcom-style complications will ensue, or they’ll suddenly realize how foolish they’ve been and start macking right there in front of our poor forlorn redhead; or, even if Lucy stays in whatever adulterous love nest she’s been in for the past few months, Tommie will suddenly have an attack of righteousness and head on back to her cold, lonely bed in Apartment 3-G. So, no nookie for Tommie. But it won’t be beer’s fault.

Judge Parker, 9/7/06

Yeah, so I take back what I said before. I don’t think the glassy-eyed Abbey wants Raju to kiss her. I now think she’s just really, really high.

Pluggers, 9/7/06

So, you’re a Plugger if, uh, you’re forever haunted by the icy specter of death? Does Pluggers have any gears other than “smug” and “depressing?”