Post Content

Oddly coincident with my stewardship here at The Comics Curmudgeon, the Sunday comics are rolling out their B-Teams. Let’s take a look.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/20/09

OK, Rex Morgan, M.D. usually disappoints by dishing out endless observational chit-chat between Rex and June followed by a lot of talking on phones, and then, once everyone has lost interest, annihilating some minor character in a hail of gunfire or whatnot. Josh cites this as one factor in The Rex Morgan Problem, and I will not say him nay. But here’s a new and disturbing development — after weeks of observational chit-chat between secondary character Becka and assorted walk-ons, one of them (wildlife writer Tim Howard, and there’s fifteen minutes of my life I won’t get back) flies into an incandescent rage over a minor procedural issue in the organization of search parties. By the time we reach the final panel, we envy poor, wet, demented Pearl and Henry (oh God why me), feeling that the story that’s tormented us since June is fresh and new.

Also: “A@#SS“!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/20/09

Passing by the fact that Snuffy is himself a replacement for long-departed Barney Google, what’s with poor Micah? This is the first we hear of him — yet, as the only gainfully-employed resident of Hootin’ Holler, he must’ve been the centerpiece of the Gazette‘s business section for years. I mean, it’s not like violence and murder are going to crowd him out of the paper — the Gazette puts the Police Blotter, casualty list, and obits in agate type behind the classifieds.

Apartment 3-G, 9/20/09

Oh, and here’s Aristotle Papagoras, newly emblondened and ready for his closeup. This charlatan pusher absent-mindedly bilks disease-addled Dr. “Skully” Bryant out of his lucrative Upper East Side psychiatric practice, while thought-babbling obsessively about his junkie skank “patient.” This better end in murder, and I don’t much care who.

Crock, 9/20/09

Yes, for quite a few years now, as a matter of fact!

— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Mary Worth, 9/19/09

Some cops slip a spare gun in their boot for extra protection. Jason of the Argonauts lashed a Gorgon’s head to his shield and turned adversaries to stone. Confusing the two, Detective Scott paralyzes his foot.

Crankshaft, 9/19/09

Crankshaft‘s old-timey photo reminds us: generations come and go; only pain and loss endure. After that fateful game, Grimace abandoned his dead-end mascot career and opened discussions with McDonald’s.

The Phantom, 9/19/09

Long into the night, Chatu stares at his pinups and spins elaborate, violent fantasies. Not so special after all, are ya, pal?

And in other news:

Rhymes with Orange, 9/19/09

Hey lady — pills for that now, they have!

9 Chickweed Lane, 9/19/09

Juliette Burber, who bullies insecure college students and trustees, chides her mother for bullying a sales clerk. Next: Edda kicks a Cub Scout!

Hey, Josh is off for the week — if you have any trouble with the site, etc., reach me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net. You can still reach Josh at bio@jfruh.com, but expect a wait.

Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Beetle Bailey, 9/18/09

Wow, I’m not sure who reeks of desperation more here: Sgt. Snorkel, wandering despondently around Camp Swampy in the middle of the night because he can’t be with his true love Beetle, or Sgt. Lugg, who has given up on having Sarge acknowledge any kind of affection for her and is now just offering no-strings-attached sex. Sarge is sad and lonely enough to take her up on it, but obviously he needs to get himself good and drunk first.

Blondie, 9/18/09

I’m a 35-year-old who spends much of his time writing a blog about Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G, so obviously I’m not “hip” and “with it” when it comes to the kids today, but: really? I always thought of Crocs as being dorky and suburban, not the sort of thing the kids would use to drive teachers crazy and “push the buttons” of anyone in authority. (Thanks for using the quote marks there, Blondie, as otherwise I would have assumed that some literal button-pushing was going on.) I suppose upon reflection that Crocs have all the necessary attributes for being a punk rock accessory, seeing as they’re both ugly and uncomfortable.

Hi and Lois, 9/18/09

Speaking of punk rock, here’s one of those scary, crazy, anything-goes Webcomics artists! Man, they’re a bunch of angry radicals, aren’t they! And why wouldn’t they be, with their failure to make as much money as the 50 or so widely syndicated newspaper comics artists? Don’t worry, my pink-haired friend; someday your son will be smugly paying gag writers to churn out daily installments of the strip you created before heading out to the golf course, right up to the point when the medium in which its published goes bankrupt.

Family Circus, 9/18/09

“I’m diggin’ up all the pets we buried and piecing together bits of their corpses to make a Frankenstein animal monster! Should I reanimate the dead matter using dark magic or perverted science?”

Ziggy, 9/18/09

Ziggy thinks that his parrot should know something about Quetzalcoatl, the fearsome flying snake god of the Aztecs! That’s because Ziggy experienced a psychotic break from reality, many years ago.

Speaking of breaks, psychotic and otherwise … I’m takin’ the next week off! But don’t worry, your favorite Uncle Lumpy will be here to amuse you. See you next Saturday!