Wow! Just... Wow!

You're looking at a couple comic frames by Fletcher Hanks--who apparently penned some pretty insane science fiction comics, from what I've read..

There is SO MUCH to love here! "The Leopard Women of Venus" -- a planet that is commonly associated with all things leopard! They're easily identifiable as "Leopard Women" because of their bright red space suits and totally un-leopardlike appearance. (It rather looks like the woman peering out of the apparently British* spaceship's windshield could be a leopard woman. She's a titian blond dressed in red, too.)

Riding "giant saurians" -- which come in a lovely array of colors, it seems. And they ride them, standing up on their tippy-toes, with no sort of restraints or reins at all! We know that they're moving at "terrific speed," though, because the women's hair is flying out behind them -- in the vacuum of space. Maybe it's their catlike balance that makes them Leopard Women.

But my personal favorite sci-fi idea here (and new favorite phrase) HAS to be the "head guns"! It makes so much sense, really. They fire where you look. Unfortunately, it seems that they fire all the time. And the "intensified comet fire" they're spewing doesn't seem to produce much in the way of recoil, so that's nice. Nothing to hinder their leopard-perfect posture.
__________
* Just look where the steering wheel is!

Zombie Frat Boys?

My first read of this caption led me to believe that the guy who's speaking is rushing the Zeta Eta Braina fraternity, and in order to join, he has to let them eat his brains. This immediately made me think of the ridiculously dangerous drinking that goes on at many universities. This guy won't miss his brains if he's gonna do that anyway.

After actually looking at it for a minute, it's apparent that the speaker's hair is thinning on top, and he simply thinks these guys are frat rushes.

Now that I look at this awhile, the guy at the door sorta' resembles my dad!

And while we're on the subject of resemblances, I think this trio may be the undead Howard brothers. (L to R) Moe, Curly, and Shemp. Larry is probably breaking in the back window with his violin.

The great(ly twisted) Scott Nickel's Eek! comic strip.
Read it! Buy his book!

A different universe?

Oddly enough, I didn't get the full meaning of this comic until I posted it here a few moments ago. I initially thought, "How humorously surreal. The traffic signal gets up and walks when its light changes to 'WALK'!"

But did you notice the guy standing on the corner? He looks appropriately shocked at the walking signal, in the second frame, but that's only half the gag. In the first frame, his eyes are shut! Apparently, the man in the purple shirt is some sort of traffic signal to the unique stoplight-ish lifeforms of the world depicted in this Speed Bump cartoon.


It's a brilliant minimalist science fiction story!

More to the point, it's a mediation on the relationship between symbols and the thing signified, and how often we misread signs or miss them altogether. We assume, from our limited life experience, that the man on the corner is the intelligent being, waiting for the sign to change to "walk," so that he can cross the street. The initial shock comes to our senses as we observe that the "signal's" change to "walk" signified that it was okay for the post-ling on the corner to cross. Then, in mild horror, we observe that we have been supplanted as the leading intelligence in our sphere of existence by something we thought as a mindless slave-machine, and it is WE who are reduced to the mindless subservient role!

The artist even explores gender identifiers in the second frame. We might assume that this "walk/don't walk" signal is female, since it appears to be wearing a skirt. Maybe, though, it a guy wearing a kilt, symbolizing his membership in clan MacPost.

We appear to be faced with the probing question, "Do I really understand anything, including this cartoon?"
****

Actually, things seem to work the opposite way in my world. Appliances and other needful items seem to move to somewhere difficult to find when I close my eyes.

A few All Saint's Eve comics

What you can't see is the angry mob of torch-bearing villagers behind them! I should know. I was there. Brains in jars don't lurch--even for charity! I think that may be one of my evil creations just beyond the hunchback, though. In the very back, lagging behind the Charles Addams-esque asylum escapee, is the disembodied pair of pants from Dr Seuss' What Was I Scared Of?

Lio knows, from his reading of ancient holyday customs, that the carving of the jack-o-lantern and the distribution of candy on Halloween night was originally intended to ward off the evil spirits believed to run amok on that night. Here, the cartoonist reminds us of these age-old customs turned on their heads by the warped mind of a child. Instead of protecting from evil spirits, this lantern actually produces a creepy monster. Rather than handing out candy at the door to children disguised as malevolent ghosts to appease the real ones frolicking in the darkness, these young ones have left their peace offerings at the altar of the Lio-Beast in hopes of being spared it's wrath and likely hunger.
Another reading of the pictures brings about a quite different interpretation. Just as Lio knows that the path to Hell tends to be very pleasurable, today, the young theologian demonstrates that resurrection is still very awe-inspiring. From within his pumpkin tomb, he bursts forth, waving joyously at the three who have come to visit the orange sepulchre. And, just like the women at the end of the Gospel of Mark, they flee, frightened--at the prospect of a resurrected human. However, in their fear, they have left behind childish things (trick-or-treat candy.)

A lesson in idolatry, children. Man makes a god in his own likeness. Sadly, then, the unenlightened heart of the idol worshiper moves him to imitate his false idol. The effect is plainly demonstrated in panel three: a vacuity of mind, similar to the darkened inner void within the graven image.

The Journey to Hell!

Another fine offering from Lio!

There is a finer theological point that cartoonist Mark Tatulli is almost certainly not making here. The perception is that the road to Hell must be certainly, well, Hellish--obviously so. If you are headed on the path to Hell, it must certainly be bordered on all sides by goat-headed demons posing for American Gothic and road signs with huge dripping letters in a garish color of red-orange saying "Pathway to the Inferno: This Way. Your Damnation is Closer than you Think!"

Unfortunately, the proverbial journey to Hell is lots of fun. The destination, however... Only Lio sees this rightly. The pint-sized theologian laughs at those Pharisaical individuals who apparently shudder, thinking, "God I thank you that I'm not like that tax collector." How closely some of them stick to the broad road, assuming that no undead menaces means no danger of Hell-fire!

Scott Nickel is stalking me!

I'm a fan of the Eek! comic strip. Imagine my surprise when I went to look at it today, and found this!



A brain in a jar . . . named Allen?


Scott Nickel: another cartoonist who is stalking me--again!

Artistic(?) comparisons

Gregory thought the "abusive husband" in the last post looked like Bob Ross on crack,

to which I replied that it was more-or-less a self-portrait of me when I had skin and bones. Add some glasses...

And, voila!

What do you think?

The real question is why I would depict myself in a wife-beater as a wife beater!

*****

Seriously, folks. Spousal abuse is never funny, and that wasn't the point of the joke. It was just a really awful pun. Honestly.

Love is not only blind, it's dumb.

The latest Garfield gag has been Jon's obsessive twitterpation* with his gal Liz.

This is, by far, some of Jim Davis' most genuine, realistic humor. Typically, he goes for gags about the eponymous cat's self-image issues or his laziness, or Jon's exceedingly, unbelievably eccentric behavior (he can't coordinate his clothes, he loves polka, etc.) Regular readers understand that about the strip's characters and get a chuckle.

"Oh, that Garfield!" we say. "I, too, hate Mondays! heh-heh."

"That's classic Jon Arbuckle for ya! He's a real nimrod, but he seems like a fun guy to be around."

Here, Davis has hit on something many of us can identify with: the obnoxiousness of fresh infatuation and young love/rs. One can only take so much bunnies and rainbows and chocolate hearts before ya just want to slap those people back into reality. Unfortunately, these people are feeling no pain. They have the resilience of a drunk--and irrational behaviors to match. Might as well be smacking a telephone pole! Hold on--that sounds like a good plan. Be back in a moment...

I take it back. The telephone pole took umbrage at my assault.

And so, you are left with the options that Garfield takes: Smart aleck comments--ignored, in my experience (I once told such a sighing, babbling fool that he was a freak. "Yes," he responded, "But I'm a happy freak!") and banging one's head on the nearest hard surface. "At least get drunk so you'll sober up!" you want to scream.

Many of us, I'd think, will resonate with the comic because we've been there, and can look back, saying, "My gosh! What a mess I was!" That vacant stare, imbecilic grin, failure to be useful to the world at all as your brain is flooded with chemicals that addle your ability to do anything that isn't bonding with your new flame--the theologian in me wonders if it doesn't border on idolatry, but then God made the chemistry, so I guess he'll be a bit lenient.

For that matter, "mature" love (a phrase which is probably going to get my blog some interesting site hits) is no more rational! What is rational about sacrifice and surrendering self-preservation? Where is the logic in putting another's needs ahead of your own? I mean, sure, it sort of lends itself to a more amiable society, but a lot of the things we do out of love would register on the DSM as mental illness!

I read once about someone who gave up his only child to be brutally murdered, to make it possible to be with the one he loved! I know this one guy who actually got himself crucified out of love for his bride!

I'm not sure if that's really sick or really beautiful.

*****

The gag might have been improved with a clock in the background, each frame, a few more hours would have ticked by.

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*Go watch "Bambi" if you didn't get that.

Comics analysis

Jim Davis is making a less-than-subtle statement here about the deepest wishes and dreams of the comic's eponymous furball. While cats may be intelligent, musical creativity is not part of their typical abilities.


Garfield, Davis is telling us, longs to be human--and a jazz musician in particular. Perhaps he once heard of Cat Stevens (though in a polka-obsessed house like Jon Arbuckle's, one wonders how) and assumed that it must be possible. Actually, in his shades, he more closely resembles Miles Davis from the cover of "'Round About Midnight."





One might assume, based on this visual cue, that Garfield's "idol" is Miles.


Then comes his comment in the final frame, which utterly renders all that comes before it nearly meaningless, and yet makes a poignant statement on its own about Garfield's dreams of humanity. "My idol," says Garfield, "does not play the trumpet." He refers, naturally, to his enraged owner, Jon! Is Garfield's idol, then, Jon? Peculiar, since the cat spends so much time in the strip mocking his hapless owner!



Why does Garfield idolize someone who is such an inferior specimen and who neither plays nor appreciates trumpet-based jazz? Should he not rather choose as an idol someone who is superior to him and who understands his passions?



It reminds me of the words of Isaiah:



All who make idols are nothing, and the things they treasure are worthless. Those who would speak up for them are blind; they are ignorant, to their own shame. Who shapes a god and casts an idol, which can profit him nothing? He and his kind will be put to shame; craftsmen are nothing but men. Let them all come together and take their stand; they will be brought down to terror and infamy. The blacksmith takes a tool and works with it in the coals; he shapes an idol with hammers, he forges it with the might of his arm. He gets hungry and loses his strength; he drinks no water and grows faint. The carpenter measures with a line and makes an outline with a marker; he roughs it out with chisels and marks it with compasses. He shapes it in the form of man, of man in all his glory, that it may dwell in a shrine. He cut down cedars, or perhaps took a cypress or oak. He let it grow among the trees of the forest, or planted a pine, and the rain made it grow. It is man's fuel for burning; some of it he takes and warms himself, he kindles a fire and bakes bread. But he also fashions a god and worships it; he makes an idol and bows down to it. Half of the wood he burns in the fire; over it he prepares his meal, he roasts his meat and eats his fill. He also warms himself and says, "Ah! I am warm; I see the fire." From the rest he makes a god, his idol; he bows down to it and worships. He prays to it and says, "Save me; you are my god." They know nothing, they understand nothing; their eyes are plastered over so they cannot see, and their minds closed so they cannot understand. No one stops to think, no one has the knowledge or understanding to say, "Half of it I used for fuel; I even baked bread over its coals, I roasted meat and I ate. Shall I make a detestable thing from what is left? Shall I bow down to a block of wood?" He feeds on ashes, a deluded heart misleads him; he cannot save himself, or say, "Is not this thing in my right hand a lie?" - Isaiah 44:9-20
*****

Additionally, it strikes me that this would be an ideal strip for Garfield Minus Garfield.

Comics Analysis Monday (on Tuesday)

A couple recent Zits comics.

Reminiscent of a few Calvin & Hobbes comics, teenager Jeremy's brain seems to have leapt out of his head. Actually, the C & H this reminds me of most is the classic strip with the Shakespeare-quoting mystery casserole.

The cartoonists are, it appears, trying to depict the horror of performance anxiety during an exam. I think we have all experienced that terrible moment in which the mind seems to go as blank as the test before us. It is all the more humorous because of the shared experience, no?

Actually, test anxiety may not be Jeremy's worst problem. Jerry Scott and Jim Borgman are highly adept at capturing adolescent attitudes and behavior. Their solid grasp of teen culture means that they also know about the alarming number of students using alcohol and illegal narcotics. To the keen-eyed reader, the signifiers of substance abuse are readily-apparent.

From the very first frame, Jeremy's bravado and confidence are obvious tip-offs that he's been tippling. (Drinking alcoholic beverages, in other words.) Inebriated people often do very stupidly-dangerous things because their inhibitions have been lowered, and the inner sense of confidence surges to a level at which they may think they are veritably invincible. This test is worth 40% of his total grade, and he swaggers in with way too much confidence for a sober individual.

"Had a good night's sleep" (frame 2), indeed! "Passed out" is more likely the case. And then a little "hair of the dog" for the hangover... Add to this the exaggerated facial expressions, reminiscent of someone who is drunk, and it becomes pretty plain that Jeremy has been studying notes by professors Daniels and Beam! Perhaps he believes that the long history behind said beverages will allow him to better grasp the slippery tendrils of World History.

Then, of course, there is the hallucinogenic imagery in the final frame of the first comic and carried on throughout the second strip. Is Jeremy experiencing D.T.'s during his exam, or is this the result of "mind enhancing" drugs like marijuana or LSD? Such narcotics are often marketed with advertised result of "expanding your consciousness" (beyond the point of the brain?) or "freeing your mind" (the latter result literally seen to be happening here!) The average reader perceives the conversation of second strip to be occurring entirely within Jeremy's imagination. Sadly, however, this is not the case. Rather than an internal dialog, the teen has succumbed to a powerful hallucination and is raving aloud at this chewing-gum pink brain. He will probably be removed forcefully from the classroom to keep him from disturbing the other students any more.

Note how, even addled by illicit substances, Jeremy realizes his problem. He asserts boldly, and correctly, "This is not happening to me!" He even makes a moral judgment, "That is unacceptable!" But alas, Jeremy, it is too late! The damage has been done!

Via the power of the visual medium, the artists communicate that the teen's destructive behavior has caused his brain to reject him and refuse to work for him when he needs it most! He has been "poking" his "central nervous system" as if "with a sharp pencil." A harsh warning, to be sure, about the dangers of drugs! Heed the warning, young people!

Of course, Jeremy's impending failure of this class is inevitable and needful. If "Zits" is to continue believably, then Jeremy cannot continue to pass his classes! He must flunk so that he can persist as the eternal student for the purposes of the strip's continuance.

Zits: relevant, subversive and clever!

Comic Analysis Monday

If you haven't been following Garfield lately, John finally got himself a steady girlfriend. Yep. All those gags about being turned down for dates? They can't use 'em anymore. At least until these two break up. That event seems tragically close today.

Jon and Liz have been dating for several months now, and have reached the point in their relationship in which their pasts surface, and those expectations and disappointments begin to affect the romance. Cartoonist Jim Davis is introducing the theme of the characters' checkered pasts by having both of them using an item from their childhood.

She's wearing a sweater that belonged to her former boyfriend: Charlie Brown. See the trademark zigzag pattern? That's right. She's dyed her hair, but Liz is the little red-haired girl all grown up! (The zigzag sat lower on her young torso, then.) Charlie had been fun for awhile--and very loyal. However, his ability to commit to a growing, healthy relationship could only be described as "wishy-washy." And then, of course, there had been those dalliances with Peppermint Patty...

Jon holds up a golf club that hasn't been usable since he was eight. It is, for him, a symbol of past glories and victories which he expects to return to him today, and cement his deluded perception of himself as a great athlete--the sort that many women are attracted to. Back then, his skill at mini golf had garnered the approval of the most important woman in his life--his mother. Today, alas, his ability to conform to the Olympian ideal is likely to fall short--short as his child-sized golf club!

Will Davis continue this discussion of the couples' pasts in future panels, or will it remain--as is so often the case--barely-hidden subtext?