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Gil Thorp, 10/11/07

Oh my God, wait: Oregon? Too big to hide? Need I remind you what I found when I went Google image searching on “Culver Vale”?

“Gah, I’ve got to hide somewhere … I know, I’ll hide behind this Oregon flag! Wait, you can still see me … if only I weren’t so big … too big to hide…”

Comics are submitted to syndicates weeks in advance, so as much as I’d like to believe that the creators of Gil Thorp are stealing ideas from me in some sort of insane feedback loop, I know that’s not the case. But maybe they are generating their plots out of Google image searches and free association, in which case I say: kudos, sirs, kudos.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 10/11/07

This may well be the most esoteric TDIET ever, moving the strip away from its usual petty domestic gripes and towards a world-theory of aesthetic ethics. “E. Hennenfeld” is obviously a longtime observer of Portland’s fine arts scene, and is a fierce subscriber to the vision of art as a life-encompassing construct. How dare Pistachio offer a minimalist vision in his painting that isn’t reflected in his home? Is his home not as much an artifact — and thus a work of art in a true sense — as the canvases that hang in museums? By refusing to live his artistic philosophy, he reveals himself to be nothing but a hack and a fraud. It’s heady stuff, but hey, bitter waitresses and verbally abusive husbands aren’t the only people with gripes, OK?

Curtis, 10/11/07

I don’t mean to get in the way of a good hairy feet joke, but isn’t Michelle’s whole schtick that she’s snooty and rich? She gets driven around by a chauffeur, sneers at Curtis’s plebian pizza joints, etc., etc. Surely her mother could afford health insurance, yes? Also, doesn’t one usually check into rehab because one can’t stop taking the medication, not because of the medication’s unexpected side-effects? Also … aw, the heck with it. Ha ha! Hairy feet! I know what she’s been doing with those feet.

Pluggers, 10/11/07

Good lord, Rex Morgan is a plugger! I don’t think any of us were expecting that.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/1/07

Let’s leave aside for a moment the cringe-inducing and increasingly intrusive pederastic vibe that the Rex-Niki relationship is giving off. Even if we pretend none of that is happening (LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU), the text is quite amusing enough even without its subtext. Surly Dr. Morgan, who can barely be bothered to rescue his ex-nanny, practice medicine, be nice to his wife, or acknowledge his daughter, now suddenly is all excited about standing waist-deep in freezing water and gutting a fish? I have to imagine that this burst of activity is springing out of Rex’s infinitely deep well of self-hatred: maybe Green Lumberjack Shirt Rex, mentor to Young Urchin Niki, will like himself! This whole project seems so blatantly destined for disaster that I can barely contain my excitement. Presumably after about twenty minutes Niki will freak out because he’s having Katrina flooding flashbacks, and the overpowering stench of mothballs will drive away all the fish, so Rex will tell Niki how disappointed he is, and then they’ll drive back to the city in silence. Then it’s all over but the quiet, private weeping.

The Morgans’ previous attempt at water-based recreation didn’t go particularly well, either. And yes, Rex apparently feels the need to dress like a complete dork whenever there’s the slightest chance that he might end up in a river.

Dick Tracy, 10/1/07

Wow, it’s kind of unusual for Dick Tracy to shy away from showing us a scene of unspeakable carnage like this; admittedly, the strip’s gaze is sadistically lingering on the poor Baron’s shock and grief, but that’s subtle stuff when compared with the mangled bodies that are this feature’s stock in trade. Perhaps Dick’s descriptions can grow increasingly graphic over the course of the week. “…and there are bits of bone and viscera everywhere … they’ll need a firehose to get it off front steps of the Capitol …”

For Better Or For Worse, 10/1/07

Ah, life’s great cycle, told in FBOFW’s new achronological style. Panel five depicts the moment when Deanna’s creative spirit was last allowed full expression, before her stifling mother began the job of dampening it; the first three panels depict the snuffing of its final embers, as a smirking Michael goads their children to ensure that she’ll never have a moment of self-reflection that might lead to her escape.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 10/1/07

Yet another Curmudgeon reader gets TDIET props! Devin Wilger of Saskatchewan is none other than faithful reader Citric, and I’ll let him describe the panel in his own words:

Basically, the strip is inspired by my father (and, to a lesser extent, me) … [my father] has since surpassed anything I was annoyed with before and fell off a building, and broke his nose, in separate incidents, and didn’t go to the doctor after either one. And yet, if my mom has something bothering her, he does insist she go.

It’s sort of creepy to see my dad depicted as my wife though. I’ll say that right now.

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Hey kids! Before we launch into today’s comics, I need to back up a bit, because I didn’t give credit where it was due yesterday. Seems that Monday’s TDIET was submitted by faithful reader Klipper an his wife, better known no doubt as Zoe‘s parents!

They’ll Do It Every Time, 9/24/07

It’s OK, Klipper! You can just get up and change the channels with the little buttons on the TV set itself, you know. No need to cuss. Kudos on the green plaid pants, by the way — most people wouldn’t have the nerve to pull that off.

And now on to today!

Archie, 9/25/07

Ignoring the glaring problem with the dates (perhaps the AJGLU 3000 refuses to embrace the papist conspiracy that is the so-called “Gregorian calendar”?), I am quite pleased by the vision of these four teens lined up at the Learning Bar, each with an iconic symbol of their favorite summer activity, to wit:

• Jughead: Surfing.
• Archie: Naked basketball.
• Betty: Being carried aloft on a litter by a team of manservants, one of whom is extra-hunky and shielding her from the hot sun with a fringed umbrella of the type employed the by the queens of the Orient in days of yore.
• Veronica: Putting on her cleverest disguise and prowling the night as the Black Cat, Riverdale’s greatest — and sexiest — rug thief!

Mary Worth, 9/25/07

“Mary, please don’t say ‘I told you so…'” HA HA HA HA HA HA

Poor Drew! He’s managed to botch relationships with two perfectly nice women, he has to go admit to his father’s awful not-girlfriend that she was right, and if this little couch scene is any indication, he probably just walked in on a little Dr. Jeff-Mary make-out time. So in panel two, he’s responding the only way he knows how: by shrugging the most epic shrug that human shoulders have ever attempted. I mean, look at that thing. He’s even putting his knees into it. He’s going to need some long hours at the chiropractor afterwards, but his form is so perfect, it’ll totally be worth it.

Luann, 9/25/07

Actual, not-made-up discussion my wife and I had last night as we were falling asleep:

Me: Hey, does TJ have a job or anything?

Her: He’s a vest salesman! …no, a vest model.

TJ apparently only uses his snazzy sweater vests as formalwear, though: when he’s cooking for his hard-working man, he wears a more casual black button-up white collared number. Today, Brad suggests that his friend might make some extra money by serving as the firehouse’s sexual plaything, a proposal that’s not being dismissed out of hand. Oh, TJ! You’ll do anything to avoid getting a real job!

Apartment 3-G, 9/25/07

Yeah, you know, “family matters.” Like in junior high, when they separated the boys and the girls and showed them filmstrips about “family matters.”

True Margo-watchers know what that vibrating index finger presages. Eric and Nora need to get down on the floor now and cover their heads with their arms if they want to have any hope of coming out of this with their pretty faces intact.