what is apparently known as the "Comic Strip Switcheroo"

AKA, according to Wikipedia, the "Great Comics Switcheroonie" or the "Great April Fools Day Comics Switcheroonie." I don't think i need to further discuss how violated i already feel to have to include the word "Switcheroonie" twice in a blog just to maintain journalistic accuracy.

The story behind this shit that some of you may or may not vaguely remember depending on whether you were an avid comics reader in the spring of 1997, is that tonight i was over at an ex girlfriend and good pal of mine's house and i noticed she had an extremely yellowed comic hung on the side of her fridge with magnets. Upon closer inspection, it was a Zippy strip entitled "Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert!" from 4/1/1997*.

If you don't know this pretty awesome tale already, the kicker of the seeing it was that it was also very obviously drawn by Bill Amend, and not William "Bill" "Griffy" Griffith, as said strip usually is. An unmistakably Amendian Jason-head-on-Zippy-like-body and Peter-without-a-hat-head-on-Griffy-like-body play video games (looks like an NES from the controller design, IMO) much in the same way the Fox brothers have been known to be shown doing. the refrain "Bling! Bling! Bling!" repeats through each of the 4 panels of the strip from the pretty much undepicted TV** they are playing said video games on, and in the last panel one of the Fox brothers says "Are we having a punch line yet?" (which, if you are privy to the whole Zippy-vs-Garfield "Are we having fun yet" brouhaha, is a pretty decent nod to Griffy's coining of the phrase, in my opinion.)

i couldn't find this shit online, but you're welcome to search for yourself -- a more patient webman than i would probably be able to cull at least a few of the strips from somewhere or other. I remember, back in the day, that I found Amend's take on Zippy one of the Switcheroo's weaker japes, and seeing it now just backs up the suspicion I had back when i saw it for the first time: Bill Amend has no fucking idea what makes Zippy what it was. It is basically just that seeing it on the fridge of my long-ago ex girlfriend, with whom I was going out on 4/1/1997 in fact, that made me remember the as since unrepeated glory of that day in Mixtual history, the day a whole shitload of comic strip artists decided that they would all draw each other's strips for a day and turn them in for publication without the knowledge of their editors.

Beyond that I don't remember a giant amount about the specific strips and their respective Switcheroos (let alone -Roonies), but i do remember that this thing nonetheless happened and was something that was pretty amazing for the time it happened, let alone any time at all, when you really think about it. check out the woefully few examples they have linked on Wikipedia*** and if you are tickled do some digging for yourself and see what you can find. At this point I suppose they've missed the 10 year anniversary, but i'd settle for an 11.

*(For the uninitiated, Zippy masthead includes a title for the specific strip on the same line as the title of the strip itself and authorial credit.)

**but in a last-panel twist the noise is revealed to be coming from Quincy, the beloved Fox Trot iguana

***Also, the one of these that Jim Davis evidently drew is probably the best proof that I've ever seen of Jim Davis not having had anything to do with the creation of a comic strip in approximately 15 years

Back in the 'mix

Be forewarned:

My keyboard has some sort of junk up in it and the following keys are inoperable: numeral five, apostrophe, dash, quotations. Some NUM LOCKing and some cutting and pasting and some using of different computers could probably help me solve this problem, but if you notice some grammatical wonkery, it could be due to that state of my keyboard.

So, sorry I like, never blog about the comics. I could make various excuses, but they would be just that, excuses. I know, I've let my public down. Consider me back in business, please.

What better way than a brief tribute to a perennial favorite?

GET FUZZY: How do I love thee? Let me count the ways:

ONE: Satchel's eating disorder is fucking adorable.

Look at that guilty expression! Lordy I want to cuddle with that cartoon dog!

TWO: Extreme close ups:

The skills that Darby acquired as a fine arts student at Amherst college (nerd alert) are in clear evidence here. Did you know he also worked as a bicycle repairperson (crush alert) before becoming the greatest living comic page contributer? Thanks wikipedia!

THREE: The implication of curse words:


Hilarious!

Man, all blogging really requires of me is cutting and pasting stuff. I should do this more often, it's totes NBD.

AND SPEAKING OF BLOGGING...
Do you like food and people who are total sweethearts? Go here.

K thx bai!

Gene's back!

He doesn't come around too much anymore. Thought it was noteworthy.

Aren't-Buckle

I can't believe it took me this long to notice, but those reading who are not from Boston, nor periodically in the area, might be interested/outraged/confused to learn that Garfield is no longer running in the Globe.
That's right-- let it sink in. No more Garfield in the Boston Globe. The very reason I started reading comics of any kind in the first place is not available for Bostonians to read, on newsprint, anyway.
Amazingly, we've still got:

-Mallard Fillmore, this week taking a break from mocking the oh-so-current trend of baggy jeans to hilariously lampoon the supermodel industry with the slyly named character "Purge Daley" (get it??? neither did i, so here's the scoop: evidently, some people who are very thin stay thin by making themselves throw up, this is called 'bulemia' or more casually, 'purging.' and one assumes that for a supermodel, bulemia would be a full-time job!! hence the clever name! Bruce "DUI" Tinsley: one, modelling industry/womens' health: zero!)
-Prickly City, that lazy liberal scotty is attempting to woo Leona Helmsley's rich dog-heiress this week... to his don't-tread-on-my-nebulously-centrist-views girl sidekick's exasperation. Whee!
-Heart of the City, taking the pandering pop-culture 'geek' references of Fox Trot and commingling them half assedly with the elements of Calvin and Hobbes that are easiest to ape, like it does.
-Red and Rover, gentle boy-and-his-dog fluff and the second contribution to the MP from the guy who draws Adam@Home.
(Also, dude is still lapping from the years-dry well of the utterly deplorable Adam@Home, spinning his wheels for the past several weeks by doing a seemingly neverending run of strips about Adam watching TV*. It's not even an HDTV!!!)
-The MacPaint-level artistic stylings and Gary Larson content-ripoffery of F Minus.
-Harry Bliss's New Yorker rejects, the inaccurately titled "Bliss" (for those of you who would say, "That is a single panel cartoon and Garfield is a 4-panel strip, it wouldn't fit there anyway": they have started running Arlo and Janis in a 2 on top, 2 on bottom** square format)

All this garbage and plenty more that I can't think of right now, and no Lord of Lasagna to reign over all of it.
Say what you will about Garfield--- Lord knows I have. But it is a classic strip, the most classic our generation has, in fact, and that should guarantee it a permanent stop on any self respecting MP as long as it is available for publication. Hell, it isn't even in the Sunday 'mix any more. And PAWS, Inc has really been trying these past few years... unfortunate forays into espresso bar humor forgiven.
This. The painful mixtual evidence that even Bill Griffith and Berke Breathed are getting old. The looming end of FBFW (enough with the god damn super teddy, get back to Liz and Anthony already gals. If you are blocked here is a hint: have them get married)
Who is left to carry the torch? Darby Conley and Garry Trudeau? Good, because I love those guys. Hilary Price, you are also welcome to keep on doing it to it.

*i am trying to forget the disturbing week where his nose grew like pinocchio's because he lied about paying a bill
**I like to think that Jimmy Johnson would snicker when he read that

The Fay-te of Sally Forth

My friends!
A few words on the strip beloved by all (including people as far away as Iceland, according to the official website), populated by some of the most appalling (Sally's mom) and most groovy (Ted) characters on the MP. Can you guess which strip I'm talking about?? Why, it's Sally Forth, of course! I'm, just going to touch on a few issues that have been running through the ol' collective unconscious (though why I need to tell you anything when we're really just a hive mind, I don't really know).
First of all, is everyone familiar with Greg Howard? He's the lawyer-turned-'Mics-Artist who created SF in the '80s. He was some schmuck who couldn't draw:









After 10 years, he just inexplicably left the strip, turning things over to Francesco Marculiano and some artist, who never seems to get any credit. That's right, FM doesn't draw the fucking thing at all! There's a division of labor in place, because surely no human could both give voice to the divine Ted and simultaneously draw a little line on Sally's face to represent her one permanent emotion (which is.... snideness? Is that even an emotion?)

Anyway, let's talk about what's been happening, namely the decline and fall of the second grooviest character in SF, the love of Isaac Pirie's life, future mother of his children Freedom Trail Pirie and Old North Church Pirie: Faye. Faye obviously rules! Remember the rock band that consisted of Hilary on drums and Faye on drums? That would never have happened without Faye and her badass little denim vest. But lo, what is this we see on the horizon? The assimilation of our heroine of cool into the flock of sheep that is the elementary school crowd! I mean, in 6ht grade I started combing my hair so I wouldn't get made fun of so much, and the following year I bought a Champion sweatshirt to try to fit in (of course I bought a purple one, so I was mocked just as heavily as before), but come one, I wasn't as cool as Faye to begin with. She was ever the free thinker, ever the iconoclast, while I was ever the schlep in a Def Leppard T-shirt. What does this mean for the world, that one of the shining lights on the 'MP has been so callously extinguished? Or will she rise again, phoenix-like, from the ashes of complacency and a polka-dot blouse?
Perhaps more importantly, what the heck is her ethnic background?? What's that you say? It's obvious, she's white like everybody else? Well check this out:










This is taken from the Oakland Tribune, and though poorly scanned by yours truly, the fact is that Faye's skin is printed in half tone, while Hilary's is not. What gives? Is Faye a member of an ethnic minority? Does the Tribune color folks in so there'll be more black people on the 'MP? Let's just say that a little internet delving reveals that in full color, everybody looks the same: White as a sheet. In fact, I think there has never been a single black person in SF, ever. So the mystery remains unsolved. All we can do is pray on bended knee that Faye, be she black, white or greyish, be returned to us as the Queen of Cool, the Paragon of Party, the Goddess of Grunge that she once was. So say we all.

For Better Or For Worse

I know it's an obvious post title but I found it apropos to my feelings on the evolution of FBFW as it appears to be developing.


Now forgive me if this sounds extreme, but this shit offends my artistic sensibilities. Lynn's early work--Jules Feiffer-influenced, in my opinion--is some of the charmingest comic art around from the late 70's* that I could think of, which may mean that it's some of the charmingest comic art around, period. Look at its contemporaries, for Christ's sake. Cathy, Garfield, Andy Capp? Fred fuckin' Basset? The fact that this strip was in the paper I think was probably if not a big deal at the time it first appeared, at least a perhaps noticeably different deal...particularly as time passed and it became apparent that the characters were aging at a real-world rate. (Garfield's birthdays notwithstanding.)

I mean sure it's cutesy at times, but the shit is not exactly Full House either. I would call it the My So-Called Life of the comics page, in fact, if MSCL had gone on for 30 years and started when Angela was a baby and each episode was 45 seconds long. It too is about a middle-class family doing regular old shit, involving children, drawn in what can only be described as a hippie-ish style of art. Which brings me to the point-- I am really, really glad that Lynn ceased and desisted with the redrawing bullshit that was going on. I'm not sure whether that was to soften the blow with our less web-savvy fellow FBFW fans or what, but I for one found it to be a bad idea. I'm all for the 'Michael's Reminiscences' or whatever they might be called that preface these reruns, now that they're being printed with the original art. Even if they might be a little hokey sometimes, hey, it's FBFW, right? Even MSCL could be a little hokey sometimes.

But, to quote the judge in Philedelphia, "Let's see where this is going." Maybe eventually the reminiscences will not even be there and we'll have bona fide reruns-- and if they were done sequentially, I wouldn't mind that one bit. I have a suspicion that book-sales-related concerns may make that not happen and they'll do it in the randomer style that they use on the Time Travel section of fborfw.com, though. And I guess that would also be cool with me, although I never imagined this strip going that route when I thought about the possibility of it ending.

Whatever happens, let's not forget that we've got one final romance to wrap up before "time" "stops" or whatever, and evidently some Sunday newness to look forward to:
ya still got it, Lynn baby! Who needs dia-log... that strip 'leaves' me in stitches! (A one-two pun-ch for my gal Laura over at fbfw.com!)

*I know that strip's from 1981, but I think fbfw started in like '79 right?

Sunday Brunch

Greetings, Comics Comrades!
A lot of whispers have been circulating the past few days about just what exactly a 'Butter Tart' is, because lord knows if the Pattersons love them, then we must love them too. Now 'tis Sunday brunch time, and this is a perfect opportunity to share the wealth of Canadian baking lore with all and sundry. Below is the FBorFW officially sanctioned Butter Tart recipe. Vegan adaptations are ecnouraged. Now enjoy them with the hot, caffeinated beverage of your choice while you read the glorious and colorful Sunday 'Mics!

Pecan Raisin Tarts

This traditional nut and raisin tart is the perfect dessert to put out at holiday gatherings. Guaranteed to disappear quickly!

Large egg 1 1 Brown sugar, packed 1/2 cup 125 mL Coarsely chopped raisins 1/4 cup 60 mL Corn syrup 1/4 cup 60 mL Butter (or hard margarine), softened 3 tbsp. 50 mL Finely chopped pecans 2 tbsp. 30 mL Lemon juice 1 1/2 tsp. 7 mL Vanilla extract 1/2 tsp. 2 mL Salt 1/8 tsp. 0.5 mL Unbaked tart shells 12 12

Preheat oven to 375°F (190°C). Beat egg with fork in medium bowl until frothy. Add next 8 ingredients. Stir well. Arrange tart shells on baking sheet with sides. Spoon raisin mixture into tart shells. Bake on bottom rack in oven for about 15 minutes until pastry is browned and filling rises to form a dome. Remove tarts from baking sheet and place on wire rack to cool. Makes 12 tarts.

1 tart: 202 Calories; 10.4 g Total Fat (4.4 g Mono, 1.2 g Poly, 4.0 g Sat); 23 mg Cholesterol; 27 g Carbohydrate; 1 g Fibre; 2 g Protein; 187 mg Sodium

For Whom The Mixtual Bell Tolls

Friends-- greetings. Nice to be back. Albeit to some potentially troubling news on fborfw.com:

New Phase of "For Better or For Worse" Begins Sept. 3
Posted: August 29, 2007 | News Bites Home

Kansas City, MO (08/29/2007) Aug. 28, 2007 -- Lynn Johnston’s popular comic strip “For Better or For Worse” begins a new phase Monday, Sept. 3, as character Michael Patterson looks through a family photo album with his 5-year-old daughter, Meredith. With this strip, Michael begins retelling the Patterson family story by recounting the courtship of his parents, John and Elly, the central characters in the 28-year-old comic strip read by millions each day.

In a mixture of new, old and retouched work, readers will begin to see scenes of the past -- Elly reading in the library at college and catching the eye of the young dental student who will one day become her husband.

“This was an opportunity to give my readers new material, as well as my being able to pick and choose through the original art and making it different, making it a new entity, as it were,” says Johnston.

Johnston will keep fans engaged with a mix of special strips from the past and newly drawn panels that will help reintroduce favorite storylines. The strip’s current storyline will be interlaced with Michael's remembrances until it gradually reaches a natural closing stage sometime early next year. When that happens, time will stop for the extended Patterson family, but not their stories. The stories will be relived by a current generation of fans and introduced for the first time to a new generation.

Right now, Johnston is still exploring the budding romance between oldest daughter Elizabeth and an old high school flame.

"I'm interested and readers are interested to know what is going to happen with Anthony and Elizabeth," she said. "That resolution can't happen too fast. They've only just started to see each other again after a long time apart."

OK, so Lynn is taking a souped up hiatus. That's excusable; I've loved going through some of the strips that were before my time on the Web, so I guess those of us who never visit the website will get to feel a little weird that Elly used to be kind of hot 30 years ago, and that she wore bell bottom pants. (adds to the hotness, IMO)

What troubles me more is the last couple of paragraphs. Not only at the hint that we're going to be waiting until at least 2008 for a resolution of Liz and Anthony's story, but the-----

whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. Let's wait a second here and go back and read the third to last paragraph, like I just did. It's phrased in a confusing way but am i wrong in interpreting the phrase "When that happens, time will stop for the extended Patterson family" as "The strip will end?"

My friends I do not use these letters together often, but:

WTF?????????

Is this the end of FBFW?

And if so, why the deceptive phrasing, Lynn (or more likely Laura, pun-tastic temptress of my heart that you are)? Why not just come out and say it rather than have me write a half a blog that then gets interrupted and that I feel compelled to nonetheless share because of the dramatic nature of my epiphany.

Well the cat's out of the bag now, ladies. The more I reread the above article, the more I'm convinced: No more new fbfw in 2008.

I need to be alone with my thoughts for a little while. Seriously man: this makes me feel sad.

In regards to recent events

My Friends!

Let us ignore the fact that I have treated my blogging duties like Jeremy might treat his responsibilty to pick his shoes up off of the hallway floor. It's been a while, it's just that I've been really busy doing important stuff.* But given that half of the production team here at RD&Cw/T is at summer camp this month, I figured it was time for me to step up to the plate. Much like our fishy friends over in Sherman's Lagoon, jumping on the summer softball train just as Hilary and her teammates are deboarding due to Ted's negative mental attitude. Much like Barry Bonds, breaking Hank Aaron's home run record at a baseball game which I had the option of attending for free, but did not because I had something responsible to do. You know what, I don't give a fuck because I don't even need to use a double asterix to tell you that that guy was totes hopped up on 'roids, and who needs to witness baseball history being made when they've got the 'mix to greet them each morning? NOT ME!

N-E-WAYZ, let's talk about what really matters: Ted Forth, snap the fuck out of it! Sally basically just told you that unless you get a 'tude adjustment, you are not gonna get laid. Here's what I think: Stop half-assing it with that 5 o'clock shadow and grow a beard. Sometimes a makeover is just what you need to gain a new outlook on life. And I'm not talking about some trim, shapely goatee, I am talking about an epic beard, akin to that gracing the face of the holy man down the in today's (er, yesterday's) relatively lame Bliss panel. That dude, btw is the only beardo on the page! Beards: underrepresented!

We all know that there is another facial hair issue that needs to be addressed. Yes, I am speaking of Anthony's mustache. I mean, yeah Liz, smooching is great, but don't you think that smooching a dignified mustache would be better than a bare, scratchy upper lip? And I understand that the removal of the mustache is a metaphor for the clean slate of Liz and Anthony's relationship, unsullied by the disastrous marriage with whatserface that kept them apart for so long. But puh-leez. Decide for yourself:

From a few months ago:


The current dillemna:


I realize that my argument for Ted's beard and for Anthony's mustache sort of contradict each other, but that's because whatever reasons I give for these dudes to have facial hair, the only reason they really need is that facial hair is righteous. And righteous dudes, dear readers, are the name of the game.

PEACE!



*Lying around

Seriously Righteous

I would just like to point out that, in a moment of meta-connection that bridges the divide between 'Mics and Reality, two righteous dudes are totally on the same page. The same comics page. Read my last post. Then read today's Sally Forth.




Me and Ted, dudes, me and Ted. And I mean, have you ever seen us in the same room at the same time?

TWSNLUD vs. Serious Business

My friends, it's summer! These are the months of Bruckheimer and Bay, of barbecues and baseball: fun is the order of the day. And where should we find more fun than in the Mighty 'Mics? But what is this I see before me? Things have taken a turn for the serious in our beloved panelled pages. Not to say for the worse, it's not like that, no. But for reasons unknown to any save perhaps the shadow conspiracy which lurks behind the scenes of King Features Syndicate, the mysterious Illuminati responsible for strings pulled and decisions made at United Features, yes for reasons known only to these illustrious and terrifying nether beings, our Summer Strips have been hijacked for darker purposes. Doonesbury (ever a bastion of the serious, but always tempered with the humane and humorous) is telling a disturbing and singularly un-amusing tale of "Command Rape." Lio (though never actually funny to begin with) has embarked on an uncharacteristically narrative tale of Summer Camp travails (hope you're ready for the same, PSin'A). Brad's dad is stuck in a tree (ok that one is just funny). But Garfield! Oh my sweet dear Garfield! Those of you who know me, whether through our traffic on the blogosphere or through more corporeal means, know that Garfield is everything to me. The platonic ideal of the comic strip. And what have we here????? A sordid and sad tale of jealousy and heartbreak. The sardonic feline fortress that is Garfield's implacable psyche has been emotionally breached by.... a woman! I have been all for - and I mean ALL FOR - Liz and Jon's relationship. 25 years coming, I say. But what is this? Is she the Yoko* who will break up the metaphorical rock band of the Arbuckle household? A wedge driven between the homo-inter-species love of Jon, Garfield and Odie? What next? A sapphic tryst with Nermal?? Mmmm, oh yeah. Nermal is a boy. Uh. Oh, ok. What next? A sapphic tryst with Arlene? Where the fuck is Arlene anyway? maybe they could go on some double dates, and everything would be fun and hilarious again.
In any event, I'll take this opportunity in my closing remarks to point all eyes towards the truest stalwart on the 'mics page, They Who Shall Never Let Us Down. I of course am referring the Dagwood family, a font of love and humour undiluted for 75 years (and counting)!. Who can resist the charms of an enormous sandwich, a restorative kiss on the doorstep, the hilarious "Snnxxxxx" of Dagwood's snores... or today's comic gem, the ol' pants switcheroo! I'm sure some of you are grumbling about the chrono-specific reference to "capri pants" in the strip, but come on! Look how funny he looks in pants that are too small! As someone who has been known to perpetrate this self-same brand of humour in real life, I say huzzah to you, Dean Young! Do not submit! Let the upbeat river of Blondie's world flow on, forever running high on its banks through the ever shifting landscape of the 'micsville. So raise your glasses to TWSNLUD, I say! Three cheers for Blondie! Three cheers for Dagwood! Three cheers for Daisy and whatever the hell the son is named! Three cheers for Mr. Dithers, his wife, and for the carpool! Three cheers for the mailman, and for the dog! Three cheers for Elmo, the inexplicable neighbor boy who is always around and seemingly has no parents of his own! Three cheers for TWSNLUD! May your refrigerator always remain stocked! And let us pray on bended knee that those at PAWS Inc. will hear the revelry of the Feast of Blondie and see the error of their ways. Now read on my friends, ever on and on.

p.s.: Here's a special treat from the vaults! The strip in which Dagwood Bumstead and Blondie Boopadoop (I shit you not) get hitched. That's right kids, they were unmarried lovers before this one!






*Let me also make it clear that Yoko Ono was in no way responsible for the breakup of the Beatles, and is in fact a hip, hip lady. The blame belongs squarely on the shoulders of Paul, goon among goons.

Happy Birthday, MG!

We all know what original Cat with 'Tude has the market cornered on those wacky birthday blues, so without futher adieu:

Dont worry Logan...the secret of your age is safe with me.

HOLY SHIT DUDES

So, I have been shamefully unblogriffic (what? sp?) these days, and honestly I haven't even read the 'mix in like 3 days. AND WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE NOT VIGILANT? Only like, the biggest deal in the history of fictional Canadian romance my friends. We all knew it was coming, but that doesn't make it any less awesome. TOTAL SMOOCHFEST. Consider my heart officially warmed. Not that I really need to reprint this, because I know you have all already ordered your framed editions of today's strip, but I'm going to go ahead and do it anyway.



Totes epic dudes, totes epic.

Off The Beaten Path, Part II

I've mentioned Ruben Bolling's "Tom The Dancing Bug" here once before, but I don't think I talked about how much I love it. Oftentimes when I'm bored at work, like say fifteen minutes ago, I will peruse its back strips and amuse myself to no end. It is a comic that can be found in greatest volume online over at salon.com for whatever reason. It has recurring characters every now and again but mostly every week you get something new, which I find pretty awesome.

Every now and again, though, he'll do these "Super Fun Pak" strips where he lampoons well-worn mixual tropes. Since this one references another comic not found in the Chron (and one that I'm sure would find little love in this community), I thought it was doubly appropriate that I share it here. I can't figure out how to make this thing stop sizing it automatically, so if it's too small to read, the original can be found here.

This one's for you, 'MG

knowing her oft-professed love of sexual innuendo on the 'mix page, I thought our blog's founder might care to see this chestnut from the FBFW vaults, circa 1981:

Kids!

Off The Beaten Path

In response to a question raised by a faithful member of our community, I thought I'd discourse a bit on "Prickly City," a comic that I don't think has made it to the pages of the Chronicle.

What it basically seems to be to me, is political cartoon in which the girl represents the right, and the dog the left. I think. I haven't read it faithfully enough to back this argument up that well. The person who draws it certainly owes a debt to Bill Watterson in terms of the pacing, the phrasing--up to the standards of 'MD420, I'd say--and the general wistful/droll tone of the proceedings. Even the art, to a certain extent, although whoever draws it is no Watterson (not even a Brady/Wimmer in my opinion).

I'm not sure whether the girl is supposed to be black or not, but um, let's charitably use the word 'refreshing' to see a child of color repping the Right's political ideals on the comics page.

Sigh.

I just looked at Wikipedia, I promised myself I would finish writing the post before I checked what limited exposure I've had against the world at large's impression. Apparently this is just a right-wing comic, plain and simple. The following is from a strip published during the Terri Schiavo controversy, apparently Carmen was upset her womens' NCAA team lost so the dog took her food away:

Carmen: Stop denying me food, Winslow!

Winslow: I'm doing it to stop your suffering, Carmen. Besides, suicide and euthanasia are cool now. Hunter Thompson, Million Dollar Baby. It's all the rage.

Carmen: But my parents want to take care of me. They love me and don't want me starved to death!

Winslow: Well, don't come whining to me because you're not a cool dead person.

I know that I sure wanted Terri Schiavo's family to pull the plug back in those heady days of 2003: all my "cool" friends were saying Terri Schiavo would suddenly become "cool" too, once that happened, and I still have my Terri Schiavo pillowcases and action figures that we're all so familiar with, because man her popularity just went off the charts when she died, right? Comedy and salient, relevant political commentary, working together to bring the funny: THAT'S how it's done, you Trudeaus, you Wileys and McGruders and dudes who draw Pearls Before Swine. Look no further than within the limits of one Prickly City, AZ.

Speaking of politics and comics, I wiki'd GARFIELD the other day and was amused to learn that in 1978, Garfield briefly touched on the topics of inflation and labor unions, but such references were "ultimately pruned from the strip to give it a more universal appeal."

A Double Dose of Wedding Bells?

the only letter i hope 'mg69 is gonna be writing any time soon is one that reads,

"Dear Lynn Johnston,

We want to see what happens with Liz and Anothony! We appreciate your sensitivity to the needs of the differently abled: however, a storyteller of your gifts must admit that this is a poor time to choose to cut to a stock storyline about April's relationship with the girl with special needs whose name I can't remember. If you are feeling time constraints because you want to tell this story before the end of the school year and you want it to seem as though it's taking place in real-time, take it from me: your public will forgive you if it ends suddenly and the rest of it takes place in July and they are still in school.

Sincerely,

Comicsgurl69, proprietress
'Righteous Dudes and Cats with 'Tudes' "

seriously folks, i am catching the so-thoroughly-detailed-it-makes-me-a-little-afraid scent of a Patterson wedding on the summer breeze. I want to see Anthony get that knee dirtier than the bottom of Elizabeth's pumps when the dude carried her! Enough is enough. OK OK: Here's how itll go down, he has proposed and, in doing so, gets down on his knee in the mud. In the next strip he is talking to Mike and a couple of his friends about the proposal and the issue of the ring comes up and in the 2nd to last panel Anthony's like, "Well, I didn't plan this, so I didn't have a ring... but I've already got one all picked out!" and one of his friends goes "Oh yeah...?" and then in the next panel the same friend continues, "...Where'd you get the 'muddy'?" and it is a further out perspective, so we see that Anthony's knee is still muddy from when he knelt in the mud to propose. The friend is pointing at the knee, which maybe has some lines drawn around it for emphasis, and mike is laughing with his mouth in a triangle, maybe his tongue sticking out. nearby, a girl is covering her mouth with her hand and giggling.

Comically wholesome gold! if only the new love of my life were reading this, we could oust Lynn Johnston from her queen bee position and every 4-week cycle would be a "Lawrence's Story!" (Just kidding, LJ!!!)

I have a feeling...

...that Lynn Johnston will not be receiving a letter from me.

A Bone to Pick with PAWS, Inc.

What's cooking folks, it's been awhile. The PSA up in this piece, repping for uptight curmudgeons from Maine to Miami with the east coast take on the SF 'Mix. i'd like to give a special shoutout to the young lady in whose name this blog began, home from her trek eastward--- here's hoping some righteous "ganja" was smoked on that mystical subcontinent, preferably out of one of those delightful hookahs that have become so popular in our western society of late.

this post will basically be an addendum to my post on Garfield's unfortunate "coffee shop" series of a few weeks ago. recently i decided to go check out the rest of the strips from that week-- they are not online anymore, but trust me when i say they were a bona fide embarassment. while i was glad to see that "xan" himself didn't reappear, every subsequent strip was plagued by amaturish, almost worrisomely bad writing. easy, lame subject matter aside, what i found most glaring was that every one of those strips could have been 2 panels--- would have been better as 2 panels, in fact--- and had that agonizing first-panel-to-second-panel reiteration that is the mark of a really low-quality 'mixual endeavor. like: if you are going to do that, at least do it the Bill Amend way, where the first panel just shows one character going "so..." and then in the next panel they are all "here's the setup for the joke we are gonna tell in the last panel". (or take another page from Amend's book that i have actual respect for: his willingness to tailor the number of panels per strip to the pacing of the joke--- sometimes 2, sometimes 6, always innovative for whatever baseball-hat wearing drudgery those Foxes were getting up to) but in these Garfields, they basically have two identical panels leading it off! like, jon would be like "This is a great coffee shop!" and Garfield would go "I like caffeine" or whatever. and then in the next panel, Jon: "I think we should come here more often! I love this place!" Garfield looks at the coffee cup and is like "I want to put my tiny pink cone of a cat penis in here" or something (that one is on me, PAWS Inc-- thanks in advance). then in the last panel there is a joke about caffeine making you jittery. like: WHAT THE FUCK. you are hiring a team of people to make this comic the best it can possibly be and this is what we, the readers, are expected to choke down on a daily basis? Because that basically was every strip the entire week and that to me is just unacceptable. Like-- i can deal with every strip in a 5 day cycle being the same if it deals with killing spiders, kicking odie off the table, "spluts" if that sort of thing still goes on, as classic as Dagwood napping in his chair or whatever fucking thing he naps in, if he even naps, i have read Blondie about 15 times total in my life but you get what I'm saying. When you are trying some radical branching out into very uncharted waters, PAWS Inc, at least make it engaging. Do not treat us like morons, morons that have recently discovered the popularity of coffee emporia. I feel I am not alone in our writer- and readership in the fact that I've given a frightening percentage of my life to reading, drawing, tracing, and thinking about Garfield. It hurts to watch "Jim Davis" floundering to court some imaginary demographic.

I'm not even gonna start about today's camera phone reference. I've made my point.

It wouldn't really be a post from me without a little FBFW dishing too, so to end on a positive note, i really like the possibilities set in motion by Saturday's cliffhanger. There has been enough dicking around lately with all this dying grandpa Jim and wedding prep, cursed trees falling on the house and what have you. Time for some romantic intrigue! And give Liz a break Lynn-- her life is so uneventful lately that I found myself wondering if you were setting her up to be a lesbian. I'd like to see her affections vied for at this wedding by this dashing best man and a comically bad-dated Anthony. I am in Anthony's corner all the way, but you never know where Lynn J is gonna take things.

My baby sister is now a high school graduate

Ah, my parents' house, where I sit currently enjoying a cup of half-caf (which my folks persistently poison me with w/o my knowledge) and listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack. In the Harris-Rockefeller household we keep our ears on a strict regimen of Broadway soundtracks, Jimmy Buffet, and that one Bob Dylan tribute concert album. It's always a pleasure to return to the 'mix of my youth, and considering that I think 50% of the 8 person readership of this blog is from Boston, I hope that this will resonate with many of you.

First off though, I would like to talk trash about "The Sidekick," which is the unfortunate format in which we Boston regionals now receive our daily dose of comics. The Sidekick is this special smaller assemblage of newsprint within our beloved Boston Globe. It opens like a book, sort of like the sunday Chronic' Datebook, only smaller, and not pink. The comics take up several pages, which I find irritating: I think they should all be on one spread. While the Sidekick contains some other stuff, like the crossword, your horoscope, the TV guide, and some super-lame mini articles about "lifestyle" type stuff, there's not much in there. If your sitting on the T and reading the Sidekick, everyone knows your just reading the comics. If I'm reading the Datebook on BART there's always a chance that I could be reading up on a review of the SF Opera's latest production, or something equally classy. Aside from any of these considerations, I firmly believe that the 'mix should not be ghettoized into some crappy other section, ever. (On an only sort of related note, Monday June 11th's Sidekick features Melt Banana on the cover, which makes me feel wierd. One thing's for sure, if Yasuko were a president she'd be Baberham Lincoln.)

Anyhoo, glad to be reading:

ROSE IS ROSE by Pat Brady and Don Wimmer. I think if I had started reading this comic at a later age I would be disgusted by it, but having grown up with it I find it JUST ADORABLE. While most family 'mix rely on conflict for their comedy, this one needs only pure sacharine cuteness, complete with a kitten, and little rainbows, hearts and candy canes that float around the characters' heads when they are feeling particularly stoked. Maybe if time ever moved in their world, Paquale would turn into a surly, difficult, teenager, but they have been stuck in a utopian lovefest ever since I started reading. I can't remember them ever having a problem, except maybe when Paquale's greedy friend Clem (was that his name?) comes over. Oh, totes reinforces RHN, obv.



I'm sorry for liking this, I can't help myself.

ARLO AND JANIS by Jimmy Johnson. Jimmy Johnson is a funny name. This is the wierdest comic about a married couple around. Perhaps 'mixdood420 will tell you guys about the now classic topless sunbathing strip someday. On the website Jimmy reprints a handful of old comics a day accompanied by awesome commentary. Here is a sample from 2002:



Jimmy writes: "This is one of Janis' hairdo variations over the years. Looking back, I think it worked quite well. Specifically, it solved the difficult problem of her bangs, a problem that haunts me still." Oh, the difficult problem of her bangs, that really gets me. What about the fact that what is happening in this strip, is that ARLO JUST CRAWLED INSIDE JANIS' NIGHTGOWN. Amazing.

ZIPPY by Bill Grifith. Brings a tear to my eye. Curse you SF Chronicle, for taking this strip away, you must truly think poorly of us.

Not so stoked on:

MALLARD FILLMORE by Bruce Tinsley. This hyper-conservative comic is really boring. I wanted to read something really obnoxious to get riled up about, but instead he's just hating on Jimmy Carter. THAT'S ORIGINAL, you lamewad.

Now for something we can all relate to: this turn that FBorFW has taken. Oh, Lynn, why must you continously introduce new men into Elizabeth's life when we all know that there is only one man for her? This poor girl has been jerked around for too long. If she and Anthony don't smooch by the end of the wedding, I'm writing a letter. You hear that Lynn?! A letter!! Another thing I will mention in this letter is something my woman friend Alexis brought to my attention recently: Why, when we visit FBorFW.com, do the characters blink? This animation is creepy, and it just distracts us from the issues at hand.

In conclusion:
Liz + Anthony 4eva, Blinking 4neva.

Lychees and Leeches

At one point, following a rather unpleasant incident during my recently completed epic sojourn to the East -er West?- a shaft of sunlight broke through the Himalayan mist to bless me with a moment of SHEER LITERARY GENIUS. Thus illuminated both physically and psychically, I turned to my dear companion Alex and said "If I was going to write a blog post about my trip to India, I would call it "Lychees and Leeches." He congratulated me on the brilliance of my poetic mind and we continued on our sweaty way. Now, this title would probably be more apt for a per-blog in which I wrote about my "life-experiences", or some crap like that. Don't worry, I will not be regaling you with tales of natural wonder and cultural exchange, I just couldn't resist the word play. Instead, I shall bless you with a description of the 'mix to be found in the English language newspapers available in Calcutta. There are two of them, both purchased daily from the newspaper-wallah (little cultural info dudes: that's the guy who sells newspapers) who hawks his wares outside Alex's home. They were obtained largely for the purpose of doing the crossword in a swell, air-conditioned breakfast joint called the Calcutta Tea Table, which served real coffee, if you asked for it extra strong. You could also glean maybe a tiny little bit of national news, definitely see about what your fave cricket star was up to, and also learn right-quick that Paris Hilton was taking two hits and passing backstage at Coachella. As was my anthropological duty, I read the 'mix.

First off, there's the Calcutta Times.

Disturbingly, the 'mix are laid-out differently on different days. Sometimes they're all up in one corner! Sometimes they're all in one column along the edge of the page! How's a strategic 'mix reader supposed to maintain her reading habits? (Note: I am not actually a strategic 'mix reader, I read L2R T2B like a normal person. But I know this issue is an important for some of us.) Anyways, here's what they've got, top to bottom on a column day:

GARFIELD - Good choice! A bit behind the current storyline, it's that one about the senile petsitter when Jon and Liz are on a date.

BEAU PEEP - This strip is of British origin, and concerns the travails of a filthy chef and his really bizarrely dressed customer. From what I gleaned over reading about four strips, it just consists of the cook saying wierd things to the customer. I was kind of into it. Actually, never mind, I just looked at the website and it turns out there are way more characters than I thought and I lost interest. Apparently that wierd guy is the title charactar, and he's some sort of military man? I can't find an image of the one strip that I really appreciated, but it goes like this: The cook says to Beau Peep, "You know what I REALLY hate about flying?"/ "That bit where you link arms and do funny kicks"/(No dialogue)/"No, hang on - that's line dancing."

BETWEEN FRIENDS - According to the internet, "Best friends Maeve, Kim and Susan all came of age in the 1970's during the height of the feminist movement. Now, in their forties, these three contemporary, modern women lean on and support each other as they deal with office politics, career issues, love, motherhood and relationships. "Between Friends" takes a humorous and contemporary look at the lives of these three women in all their angst-driven, stress-filled, caffeinated glory. " That shit was boring, and, upon learning more about it, offensive. It's doesn't reach Cathy levels of apalling-ness or anything, because it doesn't have nearly as many exclamation marks for one, and the art actually looks kinda like a sloppier FBorFW. But still...here is a sample:


Retch!

THE WIZARD OF ID - Johnny Hart R.I.P., but I don't care much for this one.

ANIMAL CRACKERS - This strip is infuriating because it totes rips off the artistic stylings of Sherman's Lagoon, and I would catch it out of the corner of my eye believing I was soon to be blessed with a hilarious sharkism, only to have my hopes dashed upon the rocks of crappiness. I guess it sometimes tries to send an important message about environmentalism, which I should hypothetically be down with, but it's hard guys, it really is:



I should note that this strip, as its title might imply, actually concerns a variety of animal species, not just fish. None or them are interesting.

ARCHIES - I don't know if the actual Archie comic books are important to America's comics heritage or whatever, but this strip is basically what would happen is Dennis the Menace and Blondie had a baby (conceptually, not the actual characters you perv), and that baby had a lamer version of Blondie's artistic stylings, and a just as annoying version of D the M's "rascally-ness."

(CLASSIC) PEANUTS - Obv choice in my opinion, no problems here.

RIPLEY'S BELIEVE IT OR NOT - Panel format, not actually a comic, so much as a some funny facts about wierd stuff accompanied by an illustration in the realist style. For example: Joshua Mueller of Lakewood, Wash owns 400 pairs of sneakers!!! He wears a different pair every day of the year!!!. I enjoyed this "comic," but the print was so tiny that it hurt my eyes.

HEALTH CAPSULE - Also panel format, also not exactly a comic. I say, "wierd." And you?



A warning: "Health capsule gives helpful information. It is not intended to be of a diagnostic nature." Also I think the art annoys me.


Um, I've only covered 90% of the daily 'mix in 1 of 2 newspapers I read on the sub-con, but I have to go to work now, and considering it's been like, 2 weeks since this blog has gotten any attention, I'm gonna publish. There is a final panel in the Times which I believe deserves some attention for sure, look for a hate-fueled post IN THE FUTURE.

Shaped Like a Melon

It has recently come to my attention that short, fat, round characters in the'Mix are a consistent source of humor, and after this realization I felt the need to share briefly with my illustrious companions on the Road of Cosmic Hilarity.



While we all know that short, fat and round is cute, it wasn't necessarily clear to me that this equates with funny. I know feel strongly that it does. Let's observe yesterday's Dilbert:







Dilbert has been consistently monotonal for the past umpteen years, and I have a feeling I'm one of the only Chron readers who bothers to open up the Business section and read this 'Mic (another reason I thought I would address this today). But here, Scott Adams has tapped into one of the great veins of cute imagery, and produced... Humor! Dogbert in a suit is incontrovertably funny. Look at his fat little body! No neck! No neck is hilarious!

We've seen great animated characters displaying these traits (see Miyazaki's My Neighbor Totoro for perhaps the most shining example of the round-fat-cute phenomenon) for many years, but this seems to be shading over now into the Treasured Pages. Lord, I even enjoyed Lio the other day when it included a funny little monster with a squat body and just his eyes poking out. Lio! I hate that comic, and all it took was for Marc Tatulli to draw a rotund beastie, and here I am chuckling all over the floor (as opposed to chucking all over the floor, my typical reaction).

This leads me to another thought: perhaps this is the reason I enjoy Garfield so much. He's fundamentally a funny little fat-round dude. Perhaps this brand of humor has been lurking amongst us for decades, and I just never realized it. Though as the PSin'A has already addressed, there's nothing fucking funny about a weird coffee shop gag, 15 years too late. I hope whatever intern got to run wild with that one has been shipped over to Blondie and reduced to drawing the make-up lines on her cheeks for the rest of his life.

So I'll be on the road for a month or so, and this might be my last post before then. I'll leave you all in the capable hands of MG69, RStBK666, the PSin'A and the rest of the colorful characters here at RDaCw/T. Hopefully I'll have some bizarre and culturally untranslatable French 'Mix upon my return.

This so riled me up, that I forgot to title this post

Hi. I made the mistake of reading Garfield this morning:

Does this make anyone else as uncomfortable as it makes me? Who the fuck is this "Xan"? What is Jon even doing going into this "Xan's Cafe Caffeine" when Irma knows exactly how he likes his coffee?? Is gentrification really so bad in Pittsburgh that her diner closed and this asshole's cafe opened up??? And maybe most importantly, what in the name of all things natural is a human being in the Garfield-verse doing with a FUCKING nose of those dimensions???? Seriously: something that makes "Adam@Home" look ahead of its time by comparison should not exist, and the sack of shit who draws Adam watched enough episodes of Friends to piece together what a barista was 15 years ago. I for one am hoping that the clown at PAWS, Inc who is responsible for this sorrowful misstep gets a stern dressing-down from the guiding force behind the pen himself. But I'm resigning myself to at least a few more of these strips in the meantime.

In other, more pleasant news, I think it's safe to say we can expect some coincidence-based wackiness to liven up the lives of the Patterson clan this week. A certain fallen tree sure will make it a little harder to "leave" that house...eh?! I'm getting the feeling April might not be staying with John and Elly for too long, though. I'm wondering/hoping that where she winds up may have a little something to do with the difficulties Iris is having caring for Jim on her own? My heart for one would be warmed to see April giving back to the man who gave to her so generously.

Finally, to Fusco nay-sayers, I direct you to today's strip, and invite you to eat your words.

Nothing but net, Duffy.

Happy Trails

As 'MG69 blazes nostalgic in the Sub-Continent, I sit
in a windowless, climate-controlled room, alone save
for the bewildering prattle of my co-worker and the
thought-provoking musings of the PSin'A. Here's where it's brought me:
I've really come to love Peanuts, though I think that when it's
over, it's over. As my cosmic colleague has pointed
out, the departure of the strip is a momentous
occasion, and I think it should be respected. I'll
never forget the end of Bloom County, and Opus, my
beloved friend of many years, walking off into the
sunset. I still break out my dusty, dogeared Bloom
County collections every now and again, and I still
shed a tear every time I finish Happy Trails, the final book.

But what would it mean if Bloom County was printed again
in my newspaper as a Classic 'Mic? When we invest
ourselves in the emotional effort to come to terms
with death, loss, and the end of a beloved comic, it
seems to me that it cheapens that emotion if that's
not really the end. Of course there was Outland, and
now Opus, but I think Mr. Breathed went the correct
route by making Outland so unlike Bloom County.
Nonetheless, I rarely read it because of what it
represented to me. Another consideration with a comic
like Bloom County, as opposed to the timeless
innocence of Peanuts, is that the topical humor
wouldn't make any sense reprinted 20 years later.
Classic Doonesbury? I hope we never see it. I really
do enjoy Peanuts (particularly Snoopy's brothers; who
the hell knew?), but I feel like nothing would make
Charles Schulz happier than a bright-faced young 'Mix
hopeful getting his shot in the slot now occupied by
C.P. Who knows, maybe it could even be the PSin'A himself...?
Maybe the world is finally ready for Greenbeard.

Happy Trails to you, comics buddies. Especially you, 'MG69.

The Not-So-Golden Oldies

just a few minutes ago i realized i hadn't read FBFW since last sunday's blissfully text-heavy present to moms and future moms everywhere. having not much to do on the remainder of this friday workday, i decided to grab the old cyberboard and hang ten all the way on down to 'Mix Beach. what greeted me there was a "Classic Peanuts" strip.

as much as i want to discuss FBFW, i'm going to eschew another extolling of Lynn's unflinching ballsiness with this Grandpa Jim's Shitty Life arc (seriously, is she reading this blog?? they addressed his bathroom issues just days after i cracked wise about them) to discuss the phenomenon of "Classic" comics.

now I grew up in a Boston Globe household, so Peanuts was confined for me to two realms only: the televised realm and the realm of the Boston Herald. the tv specials and the strip were like night and day, as i remember it. TV gave you more snoopy and woodstalk than you could shake a stick at, while in print Peanuts was a shakily-drawn Moebius 'strip' (get it) of the same fucking gags over and over again: a baffling reflecting pool of that type of humor from the 60's that seems to be intended as childlike but is actually for adults to wax nostalgic about childhood to. Who liked this comic enough to actually subscribe to this Garfield-free, magazine-shaped newspaper? Not anyone I wanted to know, that was for sure.

Don't get me wrong. I gained an appreciation for Schultz a few years ago, roughly around the time the ads for the Christmas special started to make me emotional. To me as a child, though, Peanuts was just confusing and off-putting, much like the existance of the Boston Herald itself. I held both in the same wary gaze i saved in my early youth for sweet cereals, war toys, commericals, and maraschino cherries--- unconscious, near-moral judgement of inanimate things and the people that were allowed to experience them, instilled in me accidentally by my parents' strict routine of PBS and health food. my status at the time as a staunch Garfield loyalist probably didn't help, either; I'm sure the whole cat/dog thing only exacerbated matters and stressed a feeling of opposition that wasn't really there.

my point is-- I guess I have a pretty pronounced issue with 'classic comics,' but man does it make me feel complicated things. as someone who has often thought that he would be a passable 'micsman, it's discouraging to know that it is practically impossible to make a living as such and see spots on the page that might give an unproven talent a real shot, be instead reserved by the work of a dead man (and work already available elsewhere in published form, no less). that combined with my practically prenatal distaste for Peanuts perverts the very aim of "classic" strips to its opposite end when I am the reader, making the familiar irritating and worn-out rather than reliable and nostalgic.

but that brings me to the other side of the coin: the fact that i recognize the phenomenon of "Classics," Peanuts or otherwise, as valuable to the 'mix at large. for one, it daily (but subtly) acknowledges the hard truth that, in the 'mix, all are not created equal. some are just better than others, and i think that's something that this world of Brevities, Lios and -- I'll say it -- Pearls Before Swines should remember before they go getting too comfortable. For that matter, so does it give your Conleys, Johnstons and Borgmans something to strive for. And although my comics-reading is done almost totally online these days, I hold the memory and experience of reading them on the page quite dearly. I recognize the love that a person can have for a particular strip, and the bereavement that its sudden absence can make you feel (I can, to this day, feel the bitter sting of US Acres' unceremonious replacement by Fox Trot one cold January morn-- "First day on the job and they're already treating me like dirt," indeed). Especially for more ocd-tendencied 'mixers such as myself and 'MD420, a beloved strip's replacement fundamentally alters the rhythm of the whole experience, and rarely for the better.

Shit, now I don't even know what to think. Sorry for the long post, I guess this is a bigger topic than I thought.

Parting Shots

Before I go visit my dear friend on the other side of the world, I'd like to give Don Asmussen a serious thumbs up. I believe that I once, in an earlier work, referred to Don's contribution "Bad Reporter" as "the only legit thing our sub par local paper has to offer," or something of the sort. I stand by that statement. Yesterday our pal Donny (why not?) blessed readers with this gem:



Bad Reporter only appears a few times a week, which makes it all the more exciting, is pretty much always funny, and is often sort of innapropriate, but not in a way that makes me feel funny inside (see the Fusco Brothers), rather in a way that makes me think "Way to go Donny, push the limits!" in a cheerleady sort of way.

Also, after being forced to look at pictures of Phil Spector's hair on the front page without any comment from the "good reporters" covering his trial, I delighted in a bit of mockery. Because, seriously, this man is clearly a psychopath.



And a genius and stuff too. If I had the technological capability to post a Ronettes mp3 I'd do that.

I say, Donny (you hate it when I call you that, don't you?), you oughtta address another hair crisis in our times: Nick Swisher's decision to cut his flowing mane, which I guess he was only growing out to donate to cancer patients in the first place. Sigh. Nick Swisher's hair: I hardly knew ye. If I had the technological capability I would create an epic photoshopped image of me caressing his shining tresses with tears in my eyes.

See you in a few weeks blogosphere! I would appreciate it if someone would create a binder for me filled with the 'mix I'll be missing, preferably laminated.

Wednesday

Can someone please tell me why Jerry Scott and Jim Borgman decided to frighten me this morning? Who is that weird hoofed shark sporting Hitler's mustache? I was frightened/confused right out of my forced chuckle over their obvious piercings joke. I had to look at the color version on the www to figure out that it is their buddy Tim (here). Phew! Next time Jerry and Jim please draw him a little more in the frame. This isn't some Friday Night Freak Fest, its the goddamned 'Mix! I sent them an angry email and I received this in reply:
No written reply to accompany it? Of course not! You crafty bastards... go ahead and laugh it up.

Moving on, I would like to officially pledge my support for the Fusco Brothers. To turn to the page of someone else that is smart enough to like this comic please go here: here
(*ding!*)

Take me to your reader--your comics reader, that is!

hi friends,
potsmokinalien here with a fresh perspective on the comics of the SF bay area, that perspective being the ramblings of someone who does not live anywhere near SF. i will be stopping by occasionally to provide thoughts on the ha-ha's and hmms that comprise our reaction to the daily comics.
speaking of which-- lately i find, probably as a result of my pseudo-obsessive love for FBFW, that moreso than laughing, the "hmm" reaction really has been what i've been getting down with in the 'mix--not the brow wrinkling "Hrmm...." of discomfort and annoyance that, say, LIO might instill in the reader, but the "Hmh." you might say to yourself when you are walking down the street hung over on a weekend morning and (not that this happened to me recently or anything) you see a high school kid in a football uniform crossing himself before he walks onto the field down the block. A feeling that you have been let into a private moment in somebody else's life. does anyone actually prefer it when FBFW's punchline is an actual joke? usually it is kind of corny: some kind of play on words, or as in today's strip, the usage of less-than-20-year-old slang. to me, the best kind of FBFW punchline is either a heartwarming life lesson or a poignantly expressed emotion--Liz's reactions to Anthony's "taken" status for the wedding; Jim's recent, controversially interesting musings on his struggle with old age; everyone's conflicted emotions and excitement on the real estate upheaval of last month.
while johnston is unquestionably Queen of the Hmm, it's nice to see the other masters of the form getting the hang of it. conley's an old hand by now, and i feel like the guy who does pearls before swine is learning, which just goes to show you it can hide in the last place you'll expect, and be absent from where you'd assume. i think that might be what bugs me about sally forth, as a matter of fact. it has this reputation for being this polite, pleasant comic but really, how can it truly be when there is never any hmm whatsoever, no emotional heft or consequence to anything that happens in that strip at all? maybe the reason sally is always smirking is because her life is better than the reader's. when she dies, all she will do is make some wry comment about how she hopes they wash the linens in heaven twice a day or something, and then when she gets to heaven god will be ted and she'll be like "ted! i didn't know you were god!" and he'll go "Come on... a footrub every night before bed? It should have been obvious!"
anyway, believe it or not the original thing i was trying to do here is, i'm starting a grandpa jim patterson death watch. i'm giving him 2 months. today's strip is making me wonder if iris has got it in her to stick it out with him even that long. stay strong, lady! this man ran for miles, with a gunny sack and a rifle on his back, for your freedom.

Out meta-ing the meta-'mix

Did anyone notice a particularly Pearls-Before-Swine-esque crocodile adorning the box of sugary cereal in Baby Blues yesterday? Looks like Rick Kirkman and Jerry Scott aren't too busy enforcing reproductive heteronormativity to take a moment to give Stephen Pastis a taste of his own medicine. Before you know it the entire page will descend into such an orgy of self-referentialism that you'll be lost without the fearless bloggers here at RD&Cw/T.

BRIEFLY NOTED

Thursday:
Jeremy's got diarrhea, and I've got a serious case of the giggles!

"Elderberries will return," but for now we're getting "these classics." I'm sure you all remember when the Boondocks began reprinting old strips, only to fade off the page forever. Now, Elderberries is a pretty crap comic, but given its subject matter (old people) I can only assume that it's authored/illustrated by a pair of geriatrics, and I feel concerned that either Joe Troise or Phil Frank has broken a hip. In my brief attempt to research the matter further, I came upon a delightfully apt website for the cranky, technophobe residents of the Elderpark retirement home.

Friday:
Bliss implies that if we could see what was going on under the table, we would see an erection.

As if Guy and Rodd thought the lower left hand corner of the page shouldn't get TOO sexy, they depict the least scandalous stripper i've ever seen, dressed as if she's about to take a dip in the Pacific circa 1945.

I'm ready for a new week and some new storylines. While Get "The Mailman" Fuzzy was nothing short of its usual genius this week, and shall recieve some well-earned attention in the near future, comixdood has correctly observed that both Garfield and FBorFW are currently in Boring-ville, and I'm ready to take a stroll over to Excitementropolis. I'll see you there!

Guy and Rodd Must Die

Enough with cute animals and groovy dudes, enough
appreciating pleasant humor and grumbling
good-naturedly about mediocre strips. Let's talk
violent insurrection on the comics page. There's a
disease spreading throughout the 'Mix, and no, it's
not the VD i'm sure everyone's catching - that is, if
they're all copulating as much as Ben seems to think
they are - it's something much more nefarious, more
vile, and certainly more maleficent (tip o' the pin to
Walt. Fun is Magic). This shit needs to stop. It needs
to BE STOPPED.

That's right, kids, we're talking about poorly worded
comic strips.

Nothing goes further to ruining a joke, and my morning
bowl of cereal (or pasta, if Isaac's cooking) than a
poorly worded strip. I mean, if the art looks like a
two-year old's vomit painting (i.e. if I drew it), it
can still be funny if it's a well written gag. mmmmm,
except maybe for Clear Blue Water. That art caused
more than a few vomit-paintings in our household. You
could blind a child with that shit. But barring
that... where was I? ah yes. Seriously, Guy and Rodd,
do you think that just because your shit is on a piece
of paper that doesn't move, it means you can abandon
the concept of comic timing altogether? No! of course
not. You were going to answer yes, I can see it in
your beady little eyes. But you were going to be
wrong. Comic timing is just as important in writing,
maybe moreso! And it's not just the timing. Bad timing
and pacing is only one symptom of VD (verbose
dialogue). Comics that suffer from this pitiable
disease also often display another fatal flaw: Poor
Wording. Sometimes the sentences are just so painfully
awkward. And here's the fucking ironic thing: The
comic strip is called BREVITY!! God damn it, I'm
becoming enraged just thinking about it! Most episodes
of Brevity have painful run on sentences, when in fact
one or two words would have done. And no fucking
subtlety. Let's look at a recent strip:



Above and beyond being generally stupid, and vaguely
offensive, look at that sentence! It's terrible! Does
no one edit this nonsense?? Come on. If you feel like
you need to make this idiot joke, how about something
a little more concise. A little more BRIEF, if you
will. Perhaps these poor, hapless goons don't know
that the word 'brevity' is derived from the word
'brief,' you might think to yourself. Ah, but you'd be
wrong. If for some reason you choose to inflict Guy
and Rodd's website on yourself (GuyandRodd.com), you will see a
foolish sight-gag that clealry demonstrates before the
court that they DO know what the word means. Guilty!!
Guilty!!!! GUILTY!!!

Let me clarify that wordy comics don't have to be bad.
They just have to be written well. A good wordy comic
is a treat, because your pleasure lasts longer. I
mean, who likes it when FBorFW or someone does an
all-visual Sunday strip? Not me. You've got a longer
format, the opportunity to tell a more developed joke.
Seems like a waste, or dare I say a cop-out? Let's
contrast comics like Brevity and Curtis (another
offender of the highest order) with something like Get
Fuzzy, or Sherman's Lagoon, both of which are blessed
with impeccable pacing and wording. Even with a joke
that isn't terribly overt, as in the case of many
installments of Get Fuzzy, it's a pleasure to read
because it's streamlined, it flows like a glorious
river through the hills and dales of our morning 'Mix
experience. I find that I often reread those strips 2
or 3 times right in a row, compelled by some outside
force to follow the sensuous flow of that river
without end. And then Brevity appears on the horizon
like a dam, killing the thousands of happy fish that
swim lazily through the patches of sunlight dappling
the page. A river of blissful ink, teeming with happy
life, destroyed all in the name of the twisted vision
of Guy and Rodd! I mean, for God's sweet sake, when I
get to Brevity, it makes me excited to get through to
Dennis the Menace. Thatthought alone makes me feel unclean.

And so I say to them (to you, Guy and Rodd, if you're
reading this): Stop. Just stop. Seriously. I'm not
fucking around anymore. I've got a shipment of
Kalashnikov's coming in tonight, and we're not going
to take this lying down anymore. Death to Guy and
Rodd, pretenders to the name. Long live true brevity
on the Comics Page!

p.s.: 'Mimefield'? Come ON.

Come On In, The Water's Fine!

Well readers, welcome to my first (and only) sober blog. There has been a lot of sentimental blogging about the 'mix and i fully intend to jump on that bandwagon. I would like to talk about something that really tug tug tugs away at my heart strings: Summertime. We all know its coming. Unless you are a complete fool, you are thinking about it obsessively with every wrinkle of your 'meat space' brain. Whether you're a kindergartner or a bitter 9to5er, the summer brings the hope that you will be able to do whatever the hell you feel like doing. Summer assists the ebb and flow of memories. Summer assuages the pain of Winter, and the sexual rejection of Spring. Summer is and always will be the most awesome time of our lives. And who do you think has tapped into the pit-stain yearnings of The People in a way that only some freaky shaman could? That's right blogosphere dwellers! Steve Alaniz and Francesco Marciuliano. The recent run of Sally strips has been raking the muck from our post-modern world and getting to the truth of what it means to be a righteous human being/family unit.
Let us have a recap of what has happened in the last week: Mon: Ted is chillaxin' in his neighbors pool (a true American hero!) Tues: War-painted faces, brandishing a yo-yo and a baseball glove, Faye and Hil have TP'd their own house in a summertime-freedom frenzy. Wed: the Forth fam is sweating it out on their couch, ice cream is melting, and Sally is having Looney Toon like hallucinations. Thurs: Ted Forth is a pillar of righteousness in the guise of a little league baseball coach. Fri: Hilary has caught the brightest firefly ever. (There are no fireflies in the Golden State, but the this strip really struck a chord with me. It takes the imagination of a child like Hil and the greatness of a mom like Sally to treasure a bug's ass and I love them for that.)
And so we find ourselves in the now, looking at today's strip. (If you haven't seen it go to http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/cgi-bin/comics/archive.pl) I had a visceral reaction of joy to this strip. I can't find words to describe how i feel about the awesome way in which Sally and Ted are constantly exploiting our square world (maybe heart-rainbow explosion?) It hearkens back to a time before Hil was born, and Sally and Ted were a couple of happy-go-lucky free-spirits. (Sally! if i didn't have so much respect for Ted i would sweep you off of your feet and marry you!) The fact that they have managed to maintain that 'spark' while raising a child and having a boring office job is truly robust, and universally inspirational. Let us do another quick recap of the week. Mon: OMG HA HA! Tues: HAHA! cute. Wed: HA! so true! Thurs: HA!HAHA! Ted = #1 Fri: only an emoticon can describe this, ;) then... Sat: OMG! ROTFLOL!!! WHAM!!! back to the good ol' yucks!
Mr. Alaniz, Mr. Marciuliano, i salute you.