Archive: Six Chix

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Crock, 2/11/24

You know, some days I open up the ol’ comics in my newspaper web browser and think, “After all these years on this blog, do I truly have anything new to say?” But then I realize that Crock contains one of the many Crockian elements that annoy me — the tendency to generically call all the enlisted men under Crock’s command “trooper” — and I finally take the initiative go look up the names of the ranks in the French Foreign Legion and discover that, in fact, their equivalent of a private is given the rank of “légionnaire.” Why wouldn’t they be calling them this in this strip? You’re the only newspaper comic strip set in the French Foreign Legion, please lean into it! Why else do you think people are even reading you? Trust me, it’s not for the jokes.

Six Chix, 2/11/24

“Wait, why is this guy green?” you’re probably asking, like a simpleton. Uh, hello? Some sicko in San Francisco just removed his head from his neck, and then removed his neck entirely, and then affixed his head directly to his shoulders? My dude definitely died during that process, which is why, just like the classic Universal Pictures design of Frankenstein’s Monster, he’s green, because that’s what color a shambling collection of rotting corpse parts is. Can’t believe I still have to explain this to you people.

Panels from Beetle Bailey, 2/11/24

Something extremely sinister is happening in the throwaway panels of Beetle Bailey. “I’m so close to convincing the platoon that the world is slowly dying and the only solution is mass suicide. Hopefully they won’t notice — ah, damn it! Curse Zero’s eternal optimism and functioning clock!”

Dick Tracy, 2/11/24

Aw, looks like Sam’s gone back to visit his old popski at the family diner. And just in time to keep his dad from poisoning yet another one of his customers!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/11/24

“I never could’ve imagined this outcome. It’s wild, huh? Surprises? Arbitrary revelations for which no groundwork has been laid? This is what people enjoy in narrative, right? They find this satisfying?”

Mary Worth, 2/11/24

Oh, no! Sonia isn’t Keith’s daughter after all! Who could’ve possibly predicted? Oh, right, all of us. Obviously what’s going to happen is that Keith isn’t going to tell anybody this and will just continue to treat Sonia as the daughter he never knew because That’s What A Hero He Is, but I think it would be very funny if today’s quote is a hint that his emotional devastation is going to lead to a mescaline binge.

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Six Chix, 2/7/24

I said my piece a while back about why I’m not the biggest fan of cartoons about hell, but you know me: I can’t resist looking at a comic and thinking about the world-building, even in cases, like this one, where the world is hell. I’m kind of intrigued by the fact that the dude on the left here has one puff of chest hair on his otherwise smooth torso. Do the souls of the damned continually regrow their body hair, only to have it burn painfully off now and then as the temperature of the hellfire varies at random?

Pluggers, 2/7/24

This is a pretty subpar Pluggers in the sense that the plugger in the panel isn’t contributing to an overall joke or even giving us any new information over and above what’s in the caption. Feel like the dog-man should either be saying something jokey like “I want you to have my Lawrence Welk albums if I don’t make it” or just going all out with “They’re going to gut me like a fish, Bob! No, I’m not going to calm down!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/7/24

“Your nephew? Your nephew!?! You’re telling me that if your sibling has a son, that person is considered part of your family, and there’s even a special word you use to identify them? Holy shit, this changes everything.

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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!