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Curtis, 9/26/10

Curtis shackles its artist’s powerful, primitive vision and impeccable draftsmanship to the well-thumbed sheaf of stock narratives the world expects from a genre strip. Hey, it’s a living. But art will out! The strip slips its narrative fetters once a year for Kwanzaa, and once in a while for its title character’s superhero fantasies.

There’s so much to love here: the spandex mask rising to wrap SuperCaptainCoolMan’s improbable coiffure, the villain’s breakfast, mustache, and pince-nez, the allusion to confusing and unspeakable prison sex, “…you evil but stupid genius”, and that implacable wall o’ mammoth. But best of all, the electric elephant stinkeye at the climax, and “ZORGG.” A worthy successor to QLUNQ! HA HA HA WHINNY!

Then back to earth for a tired “principal’s office” joke — and maybe Derrick and “Onion” waiting in the hall? The nicest trips end far too soon.

Mark Trail, 9/26/10

Mark’s part-time gig with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration has slowly but completely corrupted his principles as an Outdoor Journalist. No longer does he implore readers to “Enjoy Nature” — no, now it’s all, “Stay away from the terrifying outdoors, where you will die from the flash floods and the lightning and the tornadoes and the tsunamis and the flying squid.” And shilling weather radios so people can stay inside and entertain themselves by scaring the dog.

EEEEEEE!

Brenda Starr, 9/26/10

No sound effects here but the pitapat of my fanboy heart. Brenda Starr is looking into the Pokeville hometown background of Tap Fitzpatrick, the flamboyant DA falsely (she thinks) accused of the murder of TV host Felicity Fox (no, not her). Pokeville has its secrets, at least one of whom is driving that Hummer that nearly ran over Brenda’s Mustang. But most of the town’s action is at Joe’s One Stop, Pokeville’s Jack Ass Acres, where you can get anything you want from the resident gap-toothed androgyne and owner of Bullseye the Dog — except information.

O Brenda Starr, how do I love thee?

1. Crisp, hard-edged modern drawing by artist June Brigman — retaining the trademark eye-sparkles of Dale Messick’s loopy-girly style.
2. People smoke, yet the strip is not about their smoking (see, Curtis?).
3. Intelligent background jokes — “Live Bait! Tanning!”
4. Timely material — Hummers, Mustangs, bloggers, prescription drug abuse, the decline of print journalism.
5. Author Mary Schmich, renaissance woman and (dare I hope?) future hyphenated spouse of former Baltimore Mayor Kurt Schmoke.
6. Brenda Starr kicks ass!

Pluggers, 9/26/10

The essence of Pluggers. Except for the color, which seems way too upscale, and anyway should have leached out decades ago.


— Uncle Lumpy

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So ends the Fall 2010 Comics Curmudgeon Fundraiser — a sincere “thank you” to everyone for your generosity, patience, or both. It’s never too late to contribute, of course — that’s what the little button on the left is for — but no fund drives for six months or so, promise. Now y’all’ve been so nice, here’s an extra helping of Saturday comic goodness:

Mary Worth, 9/25/10

Mary prunes and preens in smug self-satisfaction, never more menacing than when she’s bent two young lives to her will — in this case, by engineering the world’s most logorrheic second date.

Charterstone used to have a gardener, the vaguely ethnic Carlos Alora, whom we haven’t seen for years: the shaping of all lives is now Mary’s alone, and here we see her greatest achievement. No, not the shapeless lump in her hand — that’s just something to bleach for dinner. It’s on the left, her own precious rose — odorless, bloodless, perfect, and white as the grave.

Gil Thorp, 9/25/10

First among the many charms of Gil Thorp is its fidelity to “sports” themes that bore even those few readers they don’t utterly baffle. For example, the team rosters are dutifully trotted out every season, as though we’re going to clear away the piles of sports memorabilia cluttering our dens to find a pen and paper and write them down. And then there are the sportsy “issues” that define the season — like that thing Coach Tod Andrews saw! Was it Milford’s second-half offense-bogging? Could it have been the exhaustion of senior linebackers Cody Exner and Marcus Tedford? Perhaps the overreliance on “Mr. Excitement”, “The Ghost”, Jamaar Gaddis? Or was it the rookiehood of QB Miles Paris?

Hey, wake up — see what I mean? Nobody cares. At least from a male heterosexual perspective, today’s strip boils down to, “Hey, cute glasses! Not much of an ass. Hmpf, Gil’s faking it again.” Then on to Hägar the Horrible.

Bizarro, 9/25/10

I just stuck this in ’cause I like it.

The Phantom, 9/25/10

On a quest to rescue his beloved Diana, the Phantom infiltrates Rhodia’s feared Gravelines Maximum Security Prison, which sports the world’s most adorable prison logo! Take a look:

That’s where I want to go on my next incarceration! Maybe when the lovebirds reunite they’ll hang out on the beach before they leave? It’s happened before!

Crankshaft, 9/25/10

Just a lame hospital joke, but hey: he had an intestinal blockage that cleared up on its own yesterday and he’s still in the hospital why, exactly? And can’t sleep why? Is son-in-law Jeff still spiking his Metamucil® with wallpaper paste?

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/25/10

Oh, we’re deep into the Rex Morgan Problem now, folks — starts out all Rexy with the finger and the latex and the KY and the Whoooooooop!, but morphs into a legal whodunit about records disclosure, segues into a political contest of wills, and here we are at “shady developer.” ZZzzzz … wake me for the gunfire.

And seriously, for somebody whose prostate has become as famous as the other donuts down at the diner, Hizzoner looks awful cheery in panel 3. And look, he’s running for re-election, right? Tell me again why can’t he oppose Jason King’s strip mall now?


OK, look: this is a Saturday post, on a freaking Saturday! Is that worth a couple bucks, or what? I thought so! Thank you!

Whoooooooop!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Click above to contribute by credit card or PayPal, here to contribute by check, or here for more details — Thanks!

It’s the final day of the Fall 2010 Fundraiser — if you enjoy the Comics Curmudgeon, please take a few minutes to make a donation of any amount to support Josh and his fine work. You’ll feel great about it, and so will Josh — thank you!


Gasoline Alley, 9/24/10

Even beyond the bus plunge trope beloved of generations of lead-type print journalists, the current Gasoline Alley plot is chock full of old-timey goodness:

Sound effects in dialect — “Kee-rash”, y’all! “Smootch”!

Regionalisms — “Let’s don’t”, like Louisiana’s “might could”, Josh’s beloved upstate N.Y. “pop”, and the “bubbler” (water fountain) of my own Milwaukee roots.

Agricultural sexuality — Rural kids don’t have much patience for courtly love. But Rover won’t fall for Miss Chris’s comely charms either, considering what’s waiting at home.

Picaresque plotlines — A forgotten lunch, excess cell-phone use, failed brakes, missing spare, sudden infatuation: what us know-it-all city-folk call “incoherent.”

Blondie, 9/24/10

OK, cartoonists, listen up. It’s wonderful that you’ve got friends and neighbors, and peachy that they give to charity and get married and whatnot, but won’t you please, please stop sticking them in your comics? Your audience doesn’t give a rip about these people, and they always look creepy and out of place. This is not how to treat friends and neighbors in print.

Sally Forth, 9/23/10

This is how to treat friends and neighbors in print.

Dick Tracy, 9/24/10

Chief Liz is right. In fact, Dick will eventually fool himself, arrest himself for vagrancy, and then die a grisly and mysterious death at his own hands while in self-custody. His last words will be a lame wisecrack about how he died. At the funeral, friends will say, “He would have wanted it this way”, and they’ll be right, too.


— Uncle Lumpy