Greetings! Today we take another foray (I started with Tentacle Tuesday: the Many-Armed Tentacle Strip) into (modern) newspaper strips. It’s easy to assume that everything published in your paper’s comics page is drivel, but there’s some reassuring exceptions to this rule.
First, we have Canadian Pooch Café, around since 2000. One wouldn’t think that a strip about a dog (Poncho, the terror of the neighbourhood) and its owners and friends would have tentacles in it, but it does, much to my delight.
Scary Gary, by Mark Buford, follows the everyday tribulations of a 700-hundred year old vampire who’s gone quite soft and suburban. The most excitement he can hope for is purchasing a new bag of chips… on the other hand, his henchman Leopold’s life is a whirl of nefarious, villainous schemes and ploys.
My colleague has talked in detail about a certain crotchety witch in Growing Old Gracelessly With Broom-Hilda, so I’ll just leave this one strip here (and politely inquire why Broomie thinks that the octopus isn’t good enough to cuddle with, huh, HUH??)
Mark Tatulli’s Lio is a riot of tentacles, given that Lio’s best friend is a giant squid. All of it is pretty fun, but once in a while I’m so charmed that I save the strip to my computer. Here are some of those saved, favourite strips:
Bizarro – ah, to be able to rely on something that’s still good some thirty-plus years later -, has already had a Tentacle Tuesday of its own (see Let’s Get Bizarro), but since then I’ve accumulated a few extra strips.
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It was forty-eight years ago today, which is to say Thursday, April the 20th, 1970, when a certain short, dumpy, cheap-cigar-chomping 1500-year-old green witch first crash-landed into the funny pages, though we wouldn’t know she was green until that Sunday.
Russell Myers‘ (born October 9, 1938 in Pittsburg, Kansas, and still with us) Broom-Hilda has been easy to take for granted… it’s never been a trendy strip, but it’s always had its adherents, a somewhat enlightened, or at least less dim than average, passel of loonies, to which I proudly belong.
Over the long years, the changing times and the powers-that-be had Broomie clean up her act, stripping her of her beloved vices one after the other. Well, she’s held on to her gluttony and lust, but no longer indulges her passion for third-rate tobacco and beer. Still, since there was so much more in the strip’s DNA, the eschewing of Broomie’s low-down habits was not fatal.