A one-off, if only to keep it in a post separate from the sad previous one: today’s Shortpacked (that’s the comic by David Willis, the genius who brought you the Margo Warhol t-shirt) is a must-read for foob-haters.
Since I seem to have become a vague clearinghouse for comics-related news, and I’m getting this e-mailed to me left and right, I should probably say something about the untimely death of Doug Marlette. Marlette was the artist behind Kudzu, which I was always kind of ambivalent-to-negative about, but he was also a Pulitzer-prize winning editorial cartoonist; though I often didn’t agree with the points he made in his political cartoons, I found their art and attitude to be pleasingly nasty in the best possible way that a political cartoon can be. He died aged 57 in a car crash on a rainy road, which is tragic no matter what you think of his cartoons. Every comic artist deserves to go out at a ripe old age at their drawing board like Johnny Hart.
In memoriam, I offer a link to the thing Kudzu did that I perversely liked best: jokes about the difference between varying Protestant denominations. Find me one other nationally syndicated cartoonist ready to make Episcopalian jokes, hun? I also am eternally grateful for him for a cartoon he did a few years ago: I didn’t like all that much, but it did allow me to set up what may have been my most offensive Family Circus joke ever.
Blondie, 7/10/07
Ah, the dilemma for lady-lovin’ comics readers: if you want to see a Blondie love scene, you have to put up with Dagwood foreplay.
Curtis, 7/10/07
I’ve been deliberately ignoring the Curtis-Michelle drama, as is my wont, but: damn if I don’t want to see this “puppeteer” and his be-afro’d, freakily big-mouthed “puppet” as often as possible. As a regular character, he could replace Gunk, as far as I’m concerned. Or Barry.
Dick Tracy, 7/10/07
See, here’s a strip that’s still got a few tricks up its sleeve. I think we all expected that the “Grandfather” in the tradeoff would really be Dick Tracy in disguise. I don’t think any of us expected that he would peel said disguise off of his face, causing the still-lifelike features to stretch and melt like some kind of peyote-fueled nightmare.
Mark Trail, 7/10/07
OH MY GOD SHE HIT ME IN THE FACE WITH HER FACE
Marmaduke, 7/10/07
And pooping, right? Don’t forget about pooping. You forget about pooping at your own risk. I’ve seen your yard; it’s not that big.
Zits, 7/10/07
Holy crap, is Walt smoking a blunt on the back porch? YOU ARE MY NEW HERO, SIR!