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The Middletons, 12/5/05

Old people … they don’t know anything about the new days … watch. “Hey, granny, pretty soon you’ll need to go on the Web to make sure you get your Social Security checks! What? No, the Web doesn’t have anything to do with spiders! It involves a computer, which you’re terrified of using and can’t afford on your fixed income. Don’t cry, though; I hear the supermarket gives out week-old donuts and damaged cans of dog food after closing time on Thursdays!”

The Middletons have waded into the comedy gold mine that is the generation gap before, though usually in this strip the humor content (such as it is) derives from the elderly lady here being much more hep to modern-day cultural touchstones (like the rock and roll music that’s all the rage these days) than her son. Of course, this joke is so soul-searingly hilarious that it’s totally worth it to throw out this established aspect of her character.

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Since I’m so terrifically self-effacing, I normally refrain from drawing attention to my own awesomeness, since I assume that it’s obvious to pretty much everyone. Nevertheless, in the past few days my overwhelming excellence has been externally verified in several contexts, so I thought I’d detail them here for your edification:

• Sunday’s New York Times Book Review contained an essay written by John Hodgman on several recently published comics collections. Not only was my blog cited in the third paragraph, but it was even referred to as “popular.” Read it here (you need to register with the NYTimes to read it, I think, but doing so is free).
• Some outfit known as the “Weblog Awards” has me as one of the ten finalists for “Best Humor/Comics Blog” for 2005. Though I have not previously heard of this awards feature, my presence on this list totally proves its validity, as far as I’m concerned. Also, apparently the winner will be determined by reader votes, so I think you all know what you need to do.
• As near as I can tell from my referral logs, a link to my blog is being circulated on Totalfark.com, the for-pay version of Fark.com, which, if you don’t know what it is, is kind of hard to explain, but it has an enormous readership. If anyone is a Totalfark subscriber and would be so kind as to explain what’s being said about me behind that subscription wall, I’d love to hear it. If a link to my site appears on Fark’s front page, I’ll probably either become a millionaire or be responsible for reducing my Web host’s servers to a heap of molten metal.

All this is enough to give a guy a big head. Fortunately, I’ve also had some online help in keeping humble. A while ago, I posted here a photo of myself at a particularly awkward age. Said photo has been reused for somewhat humiliating purposes at a Spanish-language Web log. All I can say is: the Internet is weird.

Update: Apparently it’s considered polite to link to the other nominees for the prestigious Weblog Awards, as I’ve been getting lots of traffic from them. So here’s my competition:

• Day By Day by Chris Muir
• Cox & Forkum
• Jesus’ General
• Iowahawk
• Beautiful Atrocities
• Scrappleface
• Hog On Ice
• The Dilbert Blog
• Six Meat Buffet
• Hate Mongers Quarterly
• Fafblog
• IMAO
• Protein Wisdom
• The Comics Curmudgeon
• Achewood

Now get over there and vote! Remember, you can and should vote for me once every 24 hours. Right now I’m getting my ass handed to me by Jesus’ General, but don’t let the power of Christ compel you to hold back.

Update #2: Also, my site has found its way onto Pointless Waste of Time’s Mirth Canal, which consists of more fun fun clicky clicky ratings of sites by you, the unwashed Web-surfing masses. Again, I humbly solicit your votes.

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Nothing in Sunday’s funnies set my curmudgeonly world on fire, so I’m doubling up on Saturday:

Gil Thorp, 12/3/05

Gil Thorp is in the midst of proving that its divorce from anything even vaguely resembling competitive athletics is total. In the midst of Milford High’s biggest football game of the year, with the championship on the line, goody-goody Sean Pettibone admitted to the referees that he had stepped out of bounds on an apparent touchdown play. This is short order has rid him of his hateful, helmet-haired girlfriend and won him the affection of the towering cornrowed nice girl who’s been eyeing him all semester. Weirder yet, he’s being protected from the rightful vengeance of his fellow players by … Brent? Brent “Rap Dog”? For those of you who aren’t familiar with this strip’s pantheon of losers, this is the aforementioned Brent:

In what plane of existence is this young man handing out swirlies, rather than suffering on the receiving end of so many that his otoretolaryngologyst would be financially secure for the rest of his life? Seriously, if kids like this are administering swirlies in high school these days, I want to go back. I’ve got a list of deserving candidates.

Meanwhile, in Santa Royale:

Mary Worth, 12/3/05

I’m having a hard time remembering: what was it that goeth before the fall again? Oh, yeah, it’s insufferable goddamn smugness. Wilbur, a few weeks from now, when you’re standing terrified on your kitchen table, trying to fend off a mob of angry, lonely women with nothing but a broom handle, you may want to look back on this moment with a certain degree of humility.

Actually, Mary Worth did provide Sunday’s high point of interest. Things seem to be looking up for Josh “Mr.” Hand, the latest collateral victim of Wilbur’s lousy advice, especially now that he’s mysteriously morphed into David Bowie!