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Cathy, 8/2/04

Comics readers across the world were stunned when Cathy of Cathy accepted (apparently on accident) her long-time beau Irving’s proposal of marriage earlier this year. If you’re like me (and if you’ve stuck with this blog for this long, I’m assuming you’re at least a little bit like me), your first reaction was “Oh please God, let this be the end of the strip! Please! PLEASE!”

Cathy has long defined itself by being centered on a single career woman, and, more specifically, by tapping into every ugly stereotype of career women, or for that matter women generally; her grating, monomaniacal obsessions endear her to absolutely nobody I know, or, for that matter, to any of the other characters in the strip. But now that the strip’s raison d’être — namely, Cathy’s unique and fascinating status as a single female — will be no more, surely we can all breathe a sigh relief as she and Irving and their dogs ride off onto their honeymoon and the strip’s space is taken over by a newcomer.

That is, unless the strip continues, exploring Cathy’s neurotic reaction to marriage, family life, and potentially children. Hmmm … that is rich humorous territory — plus, it’s material that’s almost never explored on the comics pages! It’s sure-fire comedy gold!

On a more personal level, I’d like to point out that I’m getting married next year and of course am in the midst of the wedding-planning process — and thus for months will see that process vomited back at me in a most unappealing way in Cathy. Thank you, Gods of the Comics!

Bonus fact: Universal Press Syndicate’s Cathy site includes a number of (significantly out-of-date) character bios, including this extremely convoluted one for Irving: “Cathy’s on-again off-again relationship with Irving is currently ‘off,’ but judging by their history together, it’s unlikely that he won’t reappear to stir up the relationship waters once again.” I think we’re all glad that he beat the odds against his not reappearing once more.

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Beetle Bailey, 8/1/04

A reviewer of Woody Allen’s Small Time Crooks said that Woody’s character, a poor schmuck who came by a load of money, dressed like “a poor person’s fantasy of what a rich person would look like.” In today’s Beetle Bailey, we have a person with bad taste’s fantasy of what sophistication would look like, to wit:

• a barracks dominated by crystal chandeliers, ill-matching patterned throw pillows, purple drapes, and fuzzy area rugs;
• a mess hall serving non-existent but vaguely fru-fru sounding items such as “Mongolian baby peas”;
• and, in the pièce de résistance, Beetle Bailey dressed as a pimp.

That last item definitely pushes the whole affair into the realm of surreal dreamscape. Any member of the Queer Eye crew recommending such a suit would surely be sent to the lowest level of aesthetic hell, which probably involves doing interior decorating for Donald Trump.

Still, this strip may be more complex than it first seems on the surface. Since the final panel reveals that the whole thing is Sarge’s nightmare, does the author intend for us to laugh Sarge’s uneducated attempts to imagine high style? Or is this Mort Walker’s own nightmarish vision of a demasculinized military? There’s something to think about for thirty seconds or so before you move on to the Junior Jumble.

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The Phantom, 7/31/04

The Phantom is one of those strips that, it strikes me, was created in significantly less politically correct times, and is desperately trying to make up for it now. After all, it revolves around a benevolent white man protecting the dark-skinned, half-naked, ludicrous-straw-hat-wearing, pidgin-spouting natives of the amusingly named African nation of Bangalla. It’s the sort of comic strip that Rudyard Kipling might have come up with, if he had known about the wonders of form-fitting spandex. Of course, today Bangalla is an independent democracy, with a capital city full gleaming, modern buildings, and a suit-wearing president with the admittedly unfortunate name of Lambada (“the forbidden dance!”) Luaga. (If the current Sunday storyline is to be believed, Bangalla has a thoroughly modern relationship with the U.S. military-industrial complex; I’ll bet President Luaga isn’t so pleased that his old friend has decided to borrow his multi-million dollar missile cruiser for his own purposes.)

Anyway, in the current weekly series, the Phantom is kicking ass and taking names not in Africa but in his wife’s native United States. And while portraying one of the strip’s African villains like a Planet of the Apes extra would probably cross a line that the strip is already too close to, I suppose it’s OK that the leader of this band of evil rednecks looks uncannily like the majestic mountain gorilla, or maybe Ernest Borgnine.

One of the things I like about the Phantom is that his origins lie in an earlier, pre-Superman era of comic book heroes. Although he is highly skilled in both fisticuffs and gunplay, he has no actual superpowers as such, though the melty word balloons in this strip imply that he has the power to make his voice super scary.

Bonus observation: Our redneck posse includes a member of America’s diminishing but still-proud suspender-wearing community.