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Pluggers, 9/23/24

An oft-noted source of malaise in American life is a rise of loneliness, as “third spaces” — places where people socialize that aren’t home or work — decline, and more and more people spend all their time with immediate family, coworkers — or, as they age, themselves. My new crackpot theory is that this explains why individual Plugger entries have gotten increasingly weird and idiosyncratic over the years that I’ve read the strip. They used to be the sort of corny and relatable content that emerged from consensus as you and your buddies griped or joked about life’s little foibles at the bar or on the job site. But now? Now that you took your pension and your wife has died and the VFW hall has closed, now that mostly you just sit on the couch with the TV turned on way too loud, so you can hear it and also can’t really think, which is maybe the whole point? Well, now who knows what your old pals who you exchange occasional texts with do. Do they mute the TV before they reply to your text? Probably, right? You do it, so it stands to reason that they do too. Maybe that’s why they haven’t replied to your text yet. Maybe they’re just waiting for their show to end so they can focus some attention on it. That’s probably it.

Gasoline Alley, 9/23/24

In addition to being obviously annoying, Rufus and Joel are also uncanny, in the sense that they alone among the cast stay the same age even as everyone ages around them. Are they truly human at all, or are they strange visitors from the fae realms? Well, today’s strip at least establishes that Rufus was in fact pushed down a human birth canal, which may be more information than any of us ever wanted, but now we have it.

Shoe, 9/23/24

I love the fact that the Perfesser’s eyes are closed here. He’s not just daydreaming about these culinary delights: he appears to be deep in the act of prayer, as if he’s trying to manifest them. This probably hurts Roz’s feelings, as she runs the restaurant where he’s currently sitting and from which he could presumably simply order them.

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Hello everyone! I am back from my vacation! Did you miss me? Did you realize you liked Uncle Lumpy better? Did you not even notice any changes? Feel free to only answer those questions in ways that won’t hurt my feelings. Anyway, I do want to thank Uncle Lumpy for his fabulous fill-in duties, and thank everyone who donated to the annual fundraiser (said donors will be getting individual thanks from me, this week!).

Mary Worth, 9/22/24

I also want to give thanks to the usually cold and unfeeling universe and/or the vagaries of the King Features editorial calendar. It seems strangely common that truly wild Mary Worth action, like the legendary Operation H-Town warehouse shootout, happens when I’m on vacation. But this year, I’ve gotten home just in time for the truly incredible panel in which Estelle decides to murder her fiance, and probably a bunch of sick animals too. Can’t wait!!!!

The Phantom, 9/22/24

An extremely long-simmering plot in The Phantom is that at one point the Phantom had amnesia, and ended up enlisting under the name “John X” as a patrolman in the Jungle Patrol, the paramilitary unit he ordinarily leads from the shadows as the perpetually unseen “Unknown Commander”. Before too long he regained his memory and had to juggle both roles, which was increasingly more trouble than it was worth, as fun as it was to intermittently show up as John X and make all the patrolwomen extremely horny. So our hero has finally decided to wrap up his double life by having the Unknown Commander order John X off on what’s widely understood as a suicide mission. This has the added benefit of modeling for the patrolpersons he commands the idea that they’re expected to nobly sacrifice themselves for unclear ends at any time, which could make his life a lot more convenient even ignoring the whole thing where he has one less identity to juggle now.

Beetle Bailey, 9/22/24

The throwaway panels assure us that Beetle is aware that he is a member of the U.S. Armed Forces, but it’s fascinating that in subsequent panels he contemplates various increasingly fantastical transportation modes only in terms of the convenience they would offer him, and not the incredible tactical advantage they would grant his platoon in combat. I guess there’s a reason he’s never been promoted: he simply doesn’t have the mind for military leadership.

Mark Trail, 9/22/24

WOW, Mark Trail, you had an opportunity to depict a GRAPHIC vulture vomit scene in the Sunday full-color comics and you chickened out? For shame, for shame!

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Daddy Daze, 9/21/24

How it started.

Blondie, 9/21/24

How it’s going.

Archie, 9/21/24

Veronica tries a little too hard to sell Archie’s lame observation—not even a joke, really. Foreground Babe knows the score.

Luann, 9/21/24

What is it with this strip and basic repairs? We’ve seen Toni use a torque wrench to remove bolts (when the torque is zero you’ll know it’s off!) and a pipe wrench backwards until the fitting broke and flooded the laundry room. And now instead of splurging twelve bucks on a good flap valve, Bets here commits to a lifetime of jiggling the handle. Which is somehow a metaphor for her relationship with Gunther but I don’t wish to explore that any further thanks.

Gil Thorp, 9/21/24

Coach Kaz—man of action—has a go-getter’s literal-mindedness. “I wouldn’t be where I am today if it wasn’t for Gil. Here, at this table, drinking wine with you! He invited me!”

Program note: Rod Whigham, Gil Thorp‘s artist since 2008, is retiring. He will be replaced on September 30 by Rachel Merrill, who looks to me like a good fit. Congratulations, Rod and Rachel!

9 Chickweed Lane, 9/21/24

Here we see that Edda’s self-image pretty much corresponds to Amos’s image of her, albeit with subtle enhancements. And Amos, “briefed” isn’t quite the right word; the one you’re looking for is “pantsed.”

Well, that’s all for me; Josh will be back tomorrow. This was a lot of fun—thanks, everybody! But as much enjoyment as I get subbing in for Josh, it’s also a lot of work. So I think I’ll go find myself a nice park bench and sit for a while.

—Uncle Lumpy