Worst Independence Day Ever

It's a sad day in the history of your country when fucking Hi & Lois shows more fight and backbone than a majority of the people actually elected to fight and show backbone. This is a legacy strip, it's only goal is to stay the course, not ruffle feathers, and give readers a light chuckle (not a guarantee). Not upset the populace by suggesting that we might have to fight a tyrannical ruler again.

And look at their faces, with the exception of Trixie, the Flagstons absolutely know that fascism is here, several of their neighbors are Nazis and nothing set up to keep this from happening is going to work. Dot's thrilled to start fighting though.

August 23, 1966

Just to the front door? I would think you could make it to the mailbox or the street (whichever is further). Maybe the bathroom is further away. I could definitely make it to the street with toothpaste at my house.

It's amazing how the Fourth of July turns people into inconsiderate scofflaws. "Hey, my dog gets anxious with fireworks, can you go easy this year?" I'll make sure to point the loud ones at your house. "The neighbor down the street is a veteran with PTSD." Then he should understand that he fought for my right to shoot off loud noise makers. "Why are people shooting off fireworks? It's June 29th." It's our right and perfectly legal. All within the law (law says no fireworks until July 3 and 4). "Our city is thinking about banning fireworks." I'll still shoot them off. It's my right.

You're all jerks!

Was It Uphill Both Ways?

Billy Bob

The train pulled into the station and came to a loud, clattering stop. A man in all black and a poncho stepped off the train. A few people who were milling about the station looked over but went right back to what they were doing. "Hey, ol' timer," the man called out, a slow drawl coming from his mouth. "Is there a place to get a drink in this town?"

"Sure. Just down Main Street. Right between the sheriff's office and undertakers," the old man said.

"Thank you kindly," the man drawled, tipping his hat. The man made his way around the depot and walked down Main Street. The saloon was easy to spot as it was the only thing in town that actually had people using it. A bullet barely missed him and struck the dirt in front of him. The man quickly turned, pulled out his gun, and shot at a man peering from behind a building. The man who shot first fell to the ground, not moving.

"Dang. That was Slippery Pete. He's a member of Evil Eb's Hole In the Head Gang. Evil Eb's not gonna like you killing his posse," the old timer said.

"He shouldn't have shot first. Or at least, shouldn't have missed."

The man entered the saloon and took up a seat at the bar. "What'll ya have?" the bartender asked.

"Whisky," the man said. The bartender slid a glass of whisky to the man. The man barely caught the glass before it fell off the bar. The man then sat silently as he nursed the whisky.

"If you're looking for a bit more entertainment, there are a couple of rooms upstairs if you have the money," the bartender winked.

"I don't reckon," the man said.

"Which one of you killed Slippery Pete?" a voice boomed from the doorway. Everyone turned to look at where the voice came from. Except for the man. Most everyone pointed at the man at the bar.

"You killed Slippery Pete?" the voice boomed again.

"I guess," the man shrugged.

"You guess? Well, did ya or didn't ya?"

"I guess I did. He shot first. He missed. I didn't," the man took a swig of whisky.

The man that came into the saloon reached for a gun. "Well, I won't miss," but before he could move anymore, the man shot first getting the bigger man right in the stomach. He collapsed onto the floor and the man went back to his whisky.

"Now he's killed Mountain Man Melvin," a saloon patron said. "He's wiping out Evil Eb's posse left and right. Evil Eb ain't gonna like that."

"If Evil Eb wants to talk, Evil Eb knows where I am," the man sighed, finishing his whisky. "Maybe I will take a gander upstairs," he said and slowly stood up.

When the man found himself back on Main Street, he seemed to move slower but with more precision. "Step right up, sir! Step right up!" someone called from across the street.

"You talkin' to me?" the man asked.

"Yes, you, sir. Step right up for this rare and limited time offer!"

The man strolled up to the gentleman. They were in front of a general store. "What are you offerin'?"

"One exclusive, one-of-a-kind baked bean!" the shopkeep exclaimed. "Collect all 500."

"A baked bean? How is that one-of-a-kind?" the man asked.

"You try selling these boring things. I have a family to think about," the shopkeep sighed.

An unseen presence ran into the man, knocking him to the ground. He slowly got up and looked around. He was then struck against the jaw with a fist but no one was there. "What's going on?"

"It's Quick Quint. Another one of Evil Eb's posse!" the shopkeep shouted.

The man reached for his gun and followed Quick Quint around the town. Quick Quint was across the street one second and then down the street the next then on the roof of a building the next. The man focused on one part of the street and waited for Quick Quint to appear and when he did, fired.

Quick Quint went down with a disgusting groan.

"Evil Eb is on his way to town to deal with you," someone came up to the man. "He's red hot and fixin' to pop."

The man said and did nothing.

"Hey, you got the time?" a man came up to another man dressed in black.

The man in black turned slowly and looked at the other man. His eyes narrowed and he sized up the man. He pulled a pocket watch, attached to a chain, out of his pocket. He opened the cover but continued to eye the man. He suddenly turned back away, closed his watch and put it back in his pocket. "No."

A couple miles outside the town, Evil Eb was approaching as fast as he could on horseback. His long hair was wild in the wind. He was dressed all in black and had a mean look on his face. Evil Eb and his posse was the meanest and deadliest in this part of the west and someone just took down his posse without even blinking an eye.

It wasn't someone. Evil Eb knew who it was. Billy Bob. Billy Bob had been after him for years. Maybe he shouldn't have killed his family but they got in Evil Eb's way. Billy Bob was getting his revenge and Evil Eb himself was next.

The man and Evil Eb stood across from each other in the middle of Main Street. "You killed my posse," Evil Eb said. "You haven't made me a happy man."

"They started it," the man drawled, reaching for his gun but not touching it.

"Ten paces and then draw, Billy Bob," Evil Eb said.

They turned their backs to each other and began walking, ten paces, away from each other. When they hit ten, both grabbed their guns, turned around quickly, and fired. Eb's bullet zipped right by the man's ear. The man's bullet hit Evil Eb's hat.

"You win, Billy Bob. Finish me off," Eb said.

"Who's Billy Bob?" the man said.

"You are."

"My name's not Billy Bob."

"You're not Billy Bob? Are ya gonna finish me off?"

"Not if I don't have to. Want to get some whisky?"

"Sure," Evil Eb said.

The two of them headed for the saloon. "If you got the money, the saloon has a couple of rooms you might be interested in. But she makes you take a bath if you smell too bad. Not really worth it if you ask me."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mary Worth

Why do we have to accept Wilbur for who he is? He's a piece of shit. Why do we have to continue to coddle this man who clearly doesn't care about us and our feelings? I don't know about you but I don't need that in my life.

Hi and Lois

Is that where Lois is? Lois decided to abandon her family and take a trip to Paris? She's the only not home yet and Trixie's acting like she's not coming home, so...

Curtis

I feel the kids are only going on a field trip because Mrs. Nelson has to return some stuff to the store. "You kids look at the art while I go next door to Macy's."

panels from Hagar the Horrible

Honi is very committed to this bit. "Yes, you better get some money, Daddy. You definitely want something thicker than this between me and Lute."

The Born Loser

Yeah, we didn't give two craps about disabled and low income people back then did we? Heck, we barely care about them now. Heh, heh, heh.

You want me to explain snow days? It's based on probability of kids actually being in school. If kids can't make it to school (you may not know this but a certain percentage of kids need to be in school for it to count as a school day) then why have school? It also depends on if buses can run and the wind chill. Businesses may start to close in order to alleviate child care problems a snow day may cause because that's all schools are--just admit it--glorified day care services.

I love people in Minnesota and Alaska laughing at more southern states who take a snow day but they're like, "We don't get a snow day unless there's a foot of snow and negative double digit temperatures." Yeah, because you are legally required to have a certain amount of days in school. If Alaska or Minnesota schools closed for every inclement weather, they'd be in school year-round.

What were we talking about? Oh, yes. Just go to school, Wilberforce.

If you would like to support my writing or research, you can buy me a cup of coffee over on Ko-fi.

If They Can Rerun Comic Strips, I Can Rerun Commentary

It's time once again to check in on my nemesis Captain Kid. What is interesting about Captain Kid is that he looks different in every appearance. Did they just hand off the story to whatever artist was available or was there a regular artist who didn't really know what they were looking for in Captain Kid? We'll probably never know. According to the Digital Comics Museum, Al Liederman did most of the writing and art but I don't know how accurate that is.

This story first appeared in Fawcett Comics' Captain Marvel Adventures #12 (June 1942) and features Captain Kid and his nameless girlfriend at the circus and Captain Kid trying to prove he's better than all these professionals. Here's hoping he dies!

Captain Kid does look like he belongs in the circus. He has the same forearm/leg condition that Popeye has but it has apparently affected his head as well.

This circus just lets anyone perform? Things must not have been as regulated back then.

That even lower-rent Butch Matson seems to love the trapeze artist.

You failed. Miserably. And hilariously.

Your hands slipped? Was it because of or despite of the gloves you wear for some reason?

Horse, you had one job!

Crackshot? Why are you closing your eyes? Don't tell me the loud bang scares the great Captain Kid!

Look at that carny, he's seen some stuff. Or the cocaine at this circus hits differently.

Everybody changes their look in this comic. On every page, Captain Kid looks different.

In fairness, that's a pretty good shot to just shoot the pants and not the underwear or ass itself. I say give him the doll. *squints* On second thought, maybe it's just badly colored. Don't give him the doll.

Are you just going to ignore that elephant wearing glasses?

Captain Kid couldn't even ride a horse but you expect him to subdue a gorilla? You are putting an awful lot of pressure on this mediocre white kid.

And I am not ignoring that of-the-times-but-still-very-wrong racism in the second panel. There's no reason for him to be there except for the idea that "scared Black caricatures are funny". That kind of humor may have worked in the Captain Marvel stories with Steamboat but this is Captain Kid. Nothing's funny.

On second thought, it didn't work and wasn't funny in Captain Marvel either.

Glamourboy's size seems to fluctuate with each panel. When we meet him he's about the size of three Captain Kids but here he can easily wrap his hand around Unnamed Girlfriend.

Captain Kid. Our hero.

I would definitely change that name. Torro Pedo? I understand the name play but Pedo? Really?

I'm going to start calling Captain Kid Mister Kid from now on. Or maybe Dumbass.

What the hell is that? I almost want to call that a racist caricature, too. But of what? Spanish? Italian? Jewish? Romani?

"I'm gonna grow a pair and show that gorilla what-for! But not really."

That ended quickly.

So Glamourboy was just sitting on that, what, petting Unnamed Girlfriend? She should stick with the gorilla, Mister Kid's a dud.

Defense bonds? You can shove your propaganda in a sack, mister. What was the circus doing to try to capture Glamourboy? Nothing? Because it looked like nothing.

What was with the elephant in the glasses?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

panels from Barney Google and Snuffy Smith

I like to imagine that the Christmas gifts Snuffy is purchasing here and wants wrapped are just normal items. A box of baking mix, a box of macaroni and cheese, and a Marie Callendar TV dinner.

Hi and Lois

Your youngest daughter does not take after their older siblings. Trixie's hair comes from Lois, everything else clearly comes from Hi, just like Chip, Dot, and Ditto. And instead of laughing at Trixie's wet nose, get a tissue and clean the damn thing.

panel from Ripley's Believe It Or Not

Fairmount, Indiana to Saline, Michigan is only a three hour drive. I've known people who drove a lot further for a lot less.

The Born Loser

I've already commented on this strip so I'm just going to copy what I had two years ago. City chicken is kind of a poor meal, just throwing meat together and cooking it. Maybe Brutus' aversion to it stems from him growing up so poor that city chicken is all that his mother made. Brutus isn't going back to his city chicken days. He can't. He won't.

If you would like to support my writing or research, you can buy me a cup of coffee on Ko-fi.

Four Candles? There's No Way Gladys Is 40

Recently, my students had to read "The Monkey's Paw" by W.W. Jacobs. Written in 1902, it's become a classic tale about unintended consequences and being careful about what you wish for. One of their assignments was to write an ending for it. Those who know it, know that the story ends with Mr. White using his third wish to wish away whoever is knocking at the door, presumably his own deceased son, but the ambiguous ending leaves just a little room for interpretation. To give the kids kind of an idea, I wrote my own ending, adding a little twist and another unintended consequence courtesy of the paw. If you wish to read the original story, you can read it here.

"What happened?" Mrs. White shrieked. "What happened to our son?"

"I wished whoever was at the door to return being dead. Our son would've been a monster. A disfigured monster. I wanted to spare you that," Mr. White said.

Mrs. White ran over to her husband, crying. "Oh, my Herbert..."

Herbert, still in the cemetery, had awoken, air filling his lungs for the first time in ten days. Engulfed in blackness, Herbert panicked, began pounding on the top of the coffin. If anyone had been in the cemetery, no one would hear him anyway. Soon, the pounding and panicking would stop as the air ran out.

The next day, there was another pounding at the door. Practically paralyzed with mourning, Mrs. White didn't move. Mr. White went to the door and opened it to one of the local constable. "Sorry to bother you this early, sir. We are inquiring about a Mr. Abernathy Meggins. He was out visiting the family of an employee who had died. The family of a Mr. Herbert White. A neighbor reported that they saw him here last night."

Mr. White's eyes widened. The pounding at the door. The wish. What if the pounding at the door wasn't from his reborn son? What if...?

"Sir?" the constable made eye contact with Mr. White. "Would you like to step out here and talk?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Marvin

Has Grandpa here ever been around kids? They're loud. They could be sitting right next to each other and they're screaming at each other about their own private business then they get all mad if they discover you listening to them. Then be quiet!

Hi & Lois

Hi should just pay someone. Paying someone has to be cheaper than the medical bills if Hi falls and breaks his neck.

Marmaduke

It's good to see that Marmaduke just can't do anything he wants. Don't go tampering in God's domain, Marm, They'll get you.

Luann

Come on, Toni! Brad's horny!! You better be making sex popcorn in there!

Mallard Fillmore

As some of you may know, Bruce Tinsley, the original creator of Mallard Fillmore, quietly stopped producing the strip late in 2019 and the reins were handed over to Loren Fishman. From what I've seen, the arguments are a bit more intelligent than what Tinsley used and the art doesn't look like it was drawn by a child using their foot.

By the way, I've seen this scenario happen in real time on Twitter. Someone discovered some F-level celebrity followed a pro-lifer and essentially spent the rest of the day ripping their account apart. Social media is fun.

Heathcliff

It must be nice to just take the, what is it? Lasso tool? On Photoshop and just move the character around and not have to redraw it seven times.

The Born Loser

That is a pretty small cake. I get that it's only three people but that cake looks like it would only produce four good-sized pieces.

What a minute! Where's Mother Gargle?! That's something I never thought I'd say but it's her daughter's birthday. You'd think she'd be here.

From Living to Dead

As many of you have probably found out, Mort Walker, creator of the hit comic strips Beetle Bailey and Hi and Lois passed away yesterday at the age of 94. Walker was one of the last great cartoonists still living and his contributions to the comics page will last forever.

Beetle Bailey

Hi and Lois

Boner's Ark

Sam & Silo

"Do you think I've changed much since our wedding day?"

"Is that what we're going to do today? Fight?"

Comic Comics 214

I'm going to start forgoing titles for Comic Comics posts because most of the time, I can never figure out a good one, a funny one, or a clever one. It's just easier on everyone involved if I just start numbering the posts.

Hi and Lois

I don't get my news from the TV because I don't want to be told how terrible of a place the world is. I don't see it like that and I'm baffled why so many other people do. I prefer newspapers or online where I can a variety of news and disseminate it myself. After the election of Donald Trump, my family even bought subscriptions to several newspapers (including my local one) because we're going to need news now more than ever and outlets like the News-Herald will need all the help they can get.

 Dennis the Menace

Why are you asking what Dennis wants for dinner? It's clear that you have already made dinner and that everyone is sitting down to eat it. You know what I want for dinner? You to quit being a teasing bitch, Alice.

Curtis

So Heart-Throb's first job is only going to last a week. Good to know.

The Amazing Spider-Man

I don't understand why so many outer space villains refer to Earth as being primitive. Look, I'm sorry that we don't have magical tuning forks but at least we aren't constantly at war with every single planet like you guys usually are.

Luckily It Was the Chicken's Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Beetle Bailey

The way this country treats our military sometimes is just blasphemous.

Family Circus

If you want to inject Jeffy with a lethal dose of potassium chloride and say it's a flu shot or something, no one would rat you out.

Crankshaft

You ungrateful son of a... You and the teacher make a mistake causing yourselves to have to be marooned at the theater and you crap all over it. It's a wonder no one has killed you.

panel from Funky Winkerbean

Speaking of wondering why somehow hasn't killed someone yet, here's Funky and his wife. She's not going to kill him because of the bad joke or the insult to her but because she's not seeking heat so the joke/insult doesn't work.

Hi and Lois, January 29-30, February 2-3

It's clear that the five random people who create Hi and Lois don't talk to each other or even half-assedly concern themselves with even the most basic continuity, right?

Popeye

Wait. Does everybody think this gorilla in a suit is a human being? It's like that episode of The Flintstones where everybody thinks a gorilla is Fred just because the gorilla is wearing the same shirt.