Post Content

Shoe, 10/8/15

There’s something profoundly unsettling about how much closer together everything in the frame is in panel two than in panel one. I guess this is supposed to be a result of the “camera angle” changing, but it looks more like the Shoeniverse is collapsing in on itself, possibly representing the Perfesser’s confused mental state. The doctor’s look of mounting anxiety in panel two indicates that he too is troubled by his surroundings. Wasn’t … wasn’t I further away from him before? he thinks. How did he get right up behind me? “My memory,” the Perfesser says. “My memory.

Rex Morgan, M.D, 10/8/15

“Relax, mom … I’m just ordering a teenager to literally become nothing more than an object I can use to improve my own skills and career prospects! She has to obey me, because I’ve made her my personal servant with the help of a wizened old criminal who has recognized in me a fellow sociopath. But she won’t be naked. I already know that female bodies like mine are a source of great shame!”

Apartment 3-G, 10/8/15

As usual, Apartment 3-G keeps the most interesting developments in this storyline off-panel. I mean, did Eric just pantomime knocking on a nonexistent door as he encountered Martin in the street, maybe saying “knock knock!” aloud? Or did he literally rap his knuckles on his beloved’s father’s face?

Post Content

Gasoline Alley, 10/7/15

Sometimes I refer to myself as “pretend Internet famous,” which is a thing that a lot of people are these days, I think. It means that I’m not actually famous, but I am known to many people who don’t know me, and am occasionally recognized in public. It also means that I have what people in the tech-publishing-internet-fame world call a “platform,” in the sense that I have a blog and a social media footprint that I can use to reach several thousand people very easily. There are a lot of people who use those platforms for what I’d call “brandshaming,” which generally involves posting about really terrible customer service interactions with big companies on Twitter. I don’t begrudge this to anyone, obviously, because I find these scenarios as infuriating as the next person, but ranting about them online doesn’t usually seem super fun to me, plus it strikes me as unfair that someone with a relatively popular Twitter account can get problems resolved very quickly when another equally deserving person can’t.

Maybe the time I was most tempted to go on a brandshaming tear was a few weeks ago, when I was trying to get a new stove delivered to our old house in Baltimore. We’re selling it and our tenants had moved out and our realtor told us that a new stove would really help make the kitchen stand out, so I ordered one from Home Depot’s website and paid the extra fee to have them install it and take the old stove away, and arranged for a friend to be there when it was going to be delivered. Easy, right? Except, haha, no, in Maryland you need a qualified plumber to do gas hookups, and so the guy who delivered it said to my friend, “Oh, no, this is a gas stove, I can’t hook this up or disconnect the old one,” as if he hadn’t known he was delivering a gas stove, and then he just left it there in the middle of the kitchen and took off. It took several phone calls to reveal that in fact a plumber contracted by Home Depot would be calling me to set up an appointment to install this thing in the next, like, 72 hours or so. And then someone else would call to make another appointment to take the old stove away. Did I mention we were having an open house in two days?

Anyway, everyone I talked to at Home Depot was extremely nice and apologetic, as people often are when they don’t have decision-making power but have to serve as the public face of a dysfunctional institution. Several people told me that I would’ve been informed of all this if I had actually bought the stove in a store (but why couldn’t the info be included in the four auto-generated emails I had received after I bought it?) and that Maryland had overstrict laws about who could and couldn’t install gas appliances (but then why didn’t they just send a qualified person out with the delivery people, like Sears did with our gas dryer?). I ended up paying a handyman I knew to install it and take away the old stove and he was able to do it the next day, and Home Depot refunded me the amount I had paid for installation, so it all worked out in the end, but it left an extremely bad, I-will-never-buy-from-Home-Depot-again taste in my mouth, and I really wanted to complain about it to my hapless Internet followers, but I thought, nah, nobody wants to hear this.

Except apparently the writer of Gasoline Alley went through the exact same thing recently, and has decided to inflict the saga on everyone who reads Gasoline Alley, which is obviously substantially fewer people than the number who read it in its heyday but is still, let’s be real, probably more than the number who follow me on Twitter, and I thought: why not me? So, apologies to everyone, but, damn it, if there’s one thing that causes huge corporations to change their crappy policies, it’s public shaming on a dumb comics blog. Improve or face further opprobrium, Home Depot!

Crankshaft, 10/7/15

Speaking of home improvement projects, the term is actually R-value, not R-factor. I’m not sure if using the correct phrase would’ve ruined the joke or not, but the important thing is that either Crankshaft or his son-in-law or both are in terrible, terrible pain.

Mark Trail, 10/7/15

Sorry I haven’t been keeping you up to date on the undersea battle in progress in Mark Trail, but I was definitely sure you’d want to know that Mark has finally summoned Chekhov’s giant mutant moray eel to defeat his enemies, in a move a thousand times more badass than anything Namor is going to pull off in Newspaper Spider-Man. Today’s single panel is the greatest entry in the “man attacked by sea serpent” artistic genre since Laocoön and His Sons.

Post Content

Funky Winkerbean, 10/6/15

Welp, I guess we’re done with Lisa smugging from beyond the grave and have moved on to … Cindy’s love life! Did you know that Cindy was supposed to be significantly (?) older than her new hunky Hollywood boyfriend, Mason Jarr? I sure didn’t! I mean, I guess her whole shtick is complaining about getting old, but the narrative time jumps haven’t transformed her into a stooped, balding potato-person like her fellow main cast members, and honestly I have no read on how old Mason is supposed to be anyway, so I sort of figured they were roughly in the same ballpark. Anyway, I kind of enjoy how Cindy starts off in panel two making a dumb Funkyverse-typical metaphor about, like, tires, I guess, but immediately gives up and just starts talking about how pretty soon nobody’s going to consider her attractive anymore, haha, the patriarchy, amiright people? Mason’s last-panel smirk is pretty great too. “That’s right, babe! The inevitable passage of time brings death to us all, and we think we’re ready for that, but first it takes away the good looks on which we’ve founded our entire self-image.”

Family Circus, 10/6/15

The “Billy, age 7” panels of the Family Circus definitely present some of the most complex layers of narrative and metanarrative in the comics today. You have the strip being drawn by the real-life Jeffy, but deliberately done all crappy so that it can be credited to a seven-year-old version of his real-life older brother who in this fiction is filling in so his real-life deceased father can watch baseball. The look on Billy’s face really says it all here. “Please,” he seems to be thinking, “release me from this convoluted web of puns and artifice. It’s exhausting.

Apartment 3-G, 10/6/15

“You know, I’m one of Margo’s best friends and know her parents pretty well and also am part of the team responsible for her care, so they’re definitely not going to want to hear this from me. Why don’t you, a total stranger, go over to their place in the middle of the night and tell them about it? I’m not going to tell you anything about their weird family backstory or dynamic, but you should definitely fill them in about how you used to be Margo’s boyfriend but then let everyone think you were dead for five years while you hung out with some Tibetan nuns, they’ll love that.”

Marvin, 10/6/15

This is 100% the facial expression of a woman whose grandchild has stolen her credit card and gone on a spending spree at a toy store.