I’m not in the mood for politics today, and, fortunately, some strip artists put up fine work, which works out nicely and so Friday Funnies come on a Tuesday this week.
But, before that, politics are pretty funny at the moment, too, and Matt Wuerker‘s commentary on John Bolton’s book provides a moment to reflect on a couple of things.
First is that a lot of people are noting that Trump claims it’s all lies and that it’s also classified, as if it can’t be both.
Of course it can. If I say that, on a secret trip to Russia, Trump gave Putin a backrub, the backrub can be a lie and the trip can still be classified.
The other, which ties in more closely to Wuerker’s piece, is that Bolton — never a popular fellow in the best of times — is being treated like the turncoat who tells the bad guys an important secret but is then killed by them because nobody likes a weasel.
Plus this quote from January:
Accordingly, since my testimony is once again at issue, I have had to resolve the serious competing issues as best I could, based on careful consideration and study. I have concluded that, if the Senate issues a subpoena for my testimony, I am prepared to testify.
We know who was in control of the Senate.
No need to bring in Bolton’s brother if you never bring in Bolton.
But enough politics for today, and, as for Bolton’s book itself, in the words of Mose Allison …
Now on with the show!
This Wallace the Brave story arc began yesterday and I’m on tenterhooks watching it play out.
Part of it was that we always had a few kids like Rose who were, as the adults might say, “Old heads on young shoulders,” and they were respected, but it was more fun to hang out with the kids like Wallace and his crew who turned everything into an extravaganza.
The other part is that, when I was coaching youth soccer years ago, we were assigned a baseball field to practice on, which called for some innovation.
So I had a drill called “fullback kicks” in which I’d stand on home plate and roll soccer balls to kids lined up at the pitcher’s rubber (no mound there). Their goal was to kick the ball over the backstop, and, if they did it, everyone else had to take a lap.
Good coaches know you don’t ever use laps as punishment, because being in shape is a good thing, not something to be hated and avoided.
But they’re one helluva good incentive if you get to be the person standing there watching everyone else — including Coach — take a lap.
And Coach was often surprised at who got to watch who trot around the field, which was the benefit of holding the drill in the first place.
Putting Rose back there in fullback could help keep the score down, since Wallace always seemed better at trash talk than at actually putting the ball into the opposing goal.
We shall see how this iteration of the game plays out.
And here’s a game that goes on forever. Dog Eat Doug is a favorite, but the combination of Sophie and Annie has really extended the range of the strip: This episode could not be anywhere near as funny without the intellectual contrast in that final panel.
It’s more Lucy and Ethel than Abbott and Costello, but, whatever it is, it works.
Brewster Rockit comes to Earth momentarily for what might have been a so-so Will Rogers kind of gag except that it’s very well done. There’s a level of wise folly in this strip that makes it kill with dumb jokes.
Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Rickard has conveniently dropped the strip at the moment when we’re kind of wondering about top secret spending of taxpayer funds anyway.
The PPP millions Mnuchin is tossing to Trump supporters isn’t really taxpayer money because it’s mostly on our credit card, much like little Agnes‘s as-yet undistributed largess.
Meanwhile, her comment in that fourth panel suggests that she’s ready to serve in Congress as soon as she clears that darned age hurdle. She’s already mastered the requisite dismissiveness and lack of self-discipline.
(And this discursion: Creators Syndicate really needs to spend a little more money on colorists. The cheap-ass color-wash shortcut, seen here and above, is an insult to their artists.)
Monty is a perpetual loser, but this segment of the ongoing ninja story arc was almost touching.
Not quite little Ebenezer Scrooge alone in the classroom wishing his sister Fan were there, but … okay, never mind. When I say it “was almost touching,” what I mean is that I laughed anyway.
There is a gift to pulling off a good schlemiel. Either too much or too little and you’ve blown it.
You’ve got to know your strengths, and Jackie Gleason is a good example: As blustering Ralph Kramden, he was absolute genius, but, as “The Poor Soul,” he was never able to muster any pity except in the sense of watching a bit not work, again.
Monty is, indeed, a poor soul, but we can’t wait for him to step on that next banana peel.
Betty‘s son speaks truth for Gen Z, though it’s been the truth for starters of every generation for quite a while.
I don’t know that there’s ever been a time when one person could work a single minimum-wage job and have their own apartment, but rents have climbed, even when you adjust them to current dollars.
And 30 years ago, one of my son’s friends got into a good college but found her white-collar family couldn’t afford it, even with a nice financial package.
When his daughter graduated from high school four years ago, the list of classmates not going any farther was considerably more extensive.
And those who did knew better than to major in art history or dance therapy.
Different dreams entirely.