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Pluggers, 7/11/06

Boy, you read a strip for a while and you think you know it pretty well, but I have to admit that I’m shocked by how quickly Pluggers has gone from “smug and self-satisfied” to “soul-wrenchingly depressing.” Rhino-Man (not to be confused with the Rhino) must be very, very hard up for cash if the $7.50 or so he’ll get for his Carter-era 13-inch is going to get him out of some bind. That’s bad enough, but what’s really bringing me down is his incredibly glum facial expression. Presumably he’s thinking about the long trudge back to his tiny, barely furnished apartment, where he won’t even have broadcast TV to distract him from the fact that he’s broke and he’s going to die alone.

I know Pluggers doesn’t usually do continuing storylines, but I’d like to see the new, bleaker Pluggers follow Rhino-Man for the next few days:

• “Plugger venture capital.” (Rhino-Man is rooting through a dumpster, looking for bottles or cans he can return.)
• “Plugger Zoloft.” (Rhino-Man is passed out in his battered easy chair, surrounded by empty cans of Milwaukee’s Best.)
• “Plugger liquid assets.” (Rhino-Man is selling his blood.)
• “This is how a Plugger’s wages are garnished.” (Two Bear-Men are cutting off one of Rhino Man’s thumbs.)
• “Plugger therapy.” (Rhino-Man has a shotgun in his mouth.)

Gil Thorp, 7/11/06

It’s kind of interesting that Von and the legendary Marty Moon are now palling around on the golf course, considering that it was Marty’s arrest that started Von’s mediocre radio career. It’s good to see that Marty is leading a young and impressionable fellow DJ down a dark path of illegal sports betting, and also good to see that Gil Thorp still has it when it comes to incomprehensible sports jargon. Here’s the definition of a “Nassau”, if you’re curious; I’m not even going to attempt to parse the third panel. Instead, I offer the following philosophical question: Is there a parallel universe Marty Moon, and if so, does he spend all his spare time ministering to sick children and not have a goatee?

Marvin, 7/11/06

Marvin, you may have heard, is dispensing with its long-standing “whites only” policy and has introduced a new character: “Ming Ming,” a Chinese baby adopted by Marvin’s aunt. So far, Ming Ming has spent her time engaging in a strange internal monologue about the alien beings that have kidnapped her and taken her to a mysterious planet. As opposed to the homeland that she’s gotten to know and love so well over, you know, so many years. She’s also, as you can see here, been sitting completely motionless and staring forward with her creepy, expressionless eyes. So, um, yay diversity.

Mary Worth, 7/11/06

Topographical-Map-Shirt-Girl is walking briskly for her life away from the raging game of “Bad Touch, Worse Touch” that Mary and Aldo have going here. Aldo at first looks forlorn and slouchy, his arms in the C3PO position, as Mary essentially asks him if he likes things that are alive. But with her gentle and uninvited touch on his shoulder, it’s Aldo who comes alive, and begins, and he suddenly moves to poke Mary in the face with his finger, as if he thinks that the living image of his late wife standing before him must be some sort of mirage. Who knows, maybe we’ve got it all wrong — maybe these two lonely middle-aged widowed folks are going to find comfort with each other this summer. Or maybe they’ll continue to make confusing hand gestures that have never accompanied actual human interaction in the entire history of bipedalism.

Mark Trail, 7/11/06

I’m pretty sure that in the last panel, Mark is leaning down to take a big, healthy whiff of bear scat.

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You’ve probably noticed the pictures of various cool, attractive people sporting Comics Curmudgeon gear in the sidebar just under the Amazon ad and thought to yourself, “I’d like to be one of those people, but I’m just not cool and/or attractive enough!” Well, here’s a shot in the arm for your self-esteem: you can be one of those people! All you have to do is (1) buy some Comics Curmudgeon gear, (2) take a picture of yourself wearing and/or drinking out of it, and (3) e-mail said picture to me. People have already taken step 1 in record numbers; those shirts and mugs should be arriving around now, so I order you to take steps 2 and 3 today!

As always, I lead by example. Check out my awesome new Margo Warhol t-shirt (art courtesy of David Willis):

“Hey, Josh,” you’re probably saying, “That’s pretty mercenary. Isn’t there some way for my picture to appear on this blog without me having to spend any money?” Of course there is. You could, say, pretend to be a cartoon character from a soap opera strip. Yes, the Finger Quotin’ Margo Lookalike Contest is over, but I want to emphasize that I am more than willing to give a platform to whatever wacko wants to pretend to be Margo Magee or the like. Why, here’s a picture recently sent to me by faithful reader MonkeyPants:

Now, you might be saying, “Hey, she’s not wearing a turtleneck!” But she used to work for King Features and actually edited Apartment 3-G for four years, so I think she knows a little bit more about what Margo would wear than you do.

I conclude this metapost by pointing out two more comics blogs that get more obsessive than even I could contemplate and focus their rage on a single strip: Permanent Monday, which is all about Garfield, and Dinette Set Deconstruction, which is about, well, the Dinette Set. Joy and Burl’s heads float quite creepily above the text in the latter.

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Mark Trail, 7/10/06

SAY, MARK! IT’S REALLY POLITE OF YOU AND RANGER RICK TO THINK OF US AND SHOUT YOUR DIALOGUE SO WE CAN HEAR IT! I’M ASSUMING THAT’S WHY YOU’RE YELLING WHILE YOU’RE TALKING, EVEN THOUGH YOU’RE ONLY INCHES AWAY FROM EACH OTHER UP IN THAT TREE! IT SORT OF MAKES ME FEEL UNGRATEFUL TO POINT OUT THAT THROUGH THE MAGIC OF CARTOONING, WE CAN “HEAR” YOU JUST FINE, EVEN THOUGH OUR PERSPECTIVE IS QUITE FAR AWAY FROM YOU! BUT REALLY, THANKS FOR BEING SO THOUGHTFUL!

OH, AND I THINK THE BEAR IS TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT HE’S GOING TO ENJOY KILLING AND EATING YOU WHEN YOU GET DOWN FROM THAT TREE, AS YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO DO EVENTUALLY! JUST A GUESS, THOUGH!

Those of you enraptured by Mark Trail’s giant talking animals (and who isn’t, really?) will enjoy this drinking game over at the Deadspin sports blog.

For Better Or For Worse, 7/10/06

I think I speak for everyone everywhere when I say that I hope this is (a) karmic retribution for the Pattersons Junior allowing their little squallers to run wild and disturb the peaceful Kelpforths in their quiet cigar-smoking repose and (b) the beginning of Mike’s slow descent into madness. I might point out that Deanna seems to have been able to sleep just fine through the tinkling and the tonkling, but not through her husband’s lunatic overreaction to it, yet miraculously she didn’t punch him in the throat or anything. I might also point out that Mrs. C. has problems of her own in regards to sleeping through fan noise (though for her it’s less TINKLE TONKLE TINKLE TONK and more CLICK CLICK WHIRRR); however, rather than wrapping the fan in scotch tape like some sort of crazy person, she just makes me turn it off.

The Lockhorns, 7/10/06

Sometimes the Lockorns is just so much about unadulterated mutual loathing that it takes my breath away. Look at the way they’re glaring at each other with undisguised contempt. Roast rage is on the menu every night at Casa Lockhorn, along with buttered bile and fried green hate.