Immodest Mouse

The mouse combo performs a song that both is / is about a celebration of their freedom of speech. The mice are interested in testing the boundaries and openly criticizing Garfield because they "can" do it, and do not consider whether they ought to do so, and if it will have repercussions beyond being murdered. As is all too frequent an ailment in fully developed nations with protection of natural human rights, these creatures have confused, ignored, or forgotten that guaranteed freedom of expression does not absolve one from responsibility for that expression. It does rather the opposite.

Sung, presumably, to the tune of "Blue Tail Fly" ("Jimmy Crack Corn"), the mice's song is tied to the history of minstrelsy and the larger tradition of American folk music. It is a protest song of sorts, in the mode of complaint, lament, or criticism aimed at Boss, the Man, the System; the power of these sorts of cheeky-serious numbers has historically been that they are symbolic, coded, or written in slang, and that the ruling class does not see musical expression as a meaningful threat, or does not patter Romany as it were. With this song the mice are probably a little too de-coded and foolishly perform one inch from the oppressor's face.

And so do the singing mice commit an error common among adversaries of the Batman. Criminals aware of Batman's "no guns" and "no killing" rules constantly try to exploit the perceived loophole, and particularly foolish villains will use it to taunt the hero. The self-imposed rules, of course, are flexible at best, questionable for certain. Garfield does not normally do violence to the mice because he has no motivation to do so. The mice seem to have confused Garfield's disinterest with benevolence or weakness.

Meanwhile, in the title panel, Garfield leaves his particularly unappealing bite pattern for forensic odontologists, so it is a good thing he did not eat the mice.

This is all theoretical, of course, because in practice, Garfield crushes and maims mice all the time.

The Orange Violin

Clarifications for the Curious:
-We may assume Jon is not still making his Chuck E. Cheese requests from yesterday, but making reservations at another restaurant for another date. The immediacy of placing the two strips next to each other might seem confusing, but Garfield tends to group running gags as close together as possible. This is not a technique utilized by many other strips, because it tends to draw attention to the format, and may indicate to the audience that the writer is idea-starved. Garfield, on the other hand, takes care to highlight its stock situations, which goes hand-in-hand with the strip's ongoing mission to provide variants on a narrow range of interests. This trait that does not go unappreciated by fans, as indicated by the nearly illiterate Wikipedia article (ugh) which attempts and fails to catalog these situations. The good news is that Jon is organizing another date, which means Liz wasn't put off by the robot mouse. Take that, Garfield!

-The "juice harp" Jon speaks of is chicken-speak neologism for Jew's harp. Jew's harp is not an antisemetic term, as far as etymologists know, though all the dictionaries I consulted (and followed by the presumed experts at the Jew's Harp Guild website) are unsure about the derivation. I can't fault Garfield for the editor-pleasing, nonconfrontational choice, but the uncommon terminology does confuse the gag a little. Why not just say "jaw harp", which is equally wrong, but more recognizable?

In any case, forget the poor romantic substitution of a Jew's harp for a violin, and Jon's dismay at how weird the world is: the real joke is that Jon turns to his cat to help him decide if he should accept the proposal. Garfield, either hoping to sabotage the date, or figuring it's going to be an evening of idiocy anyway, silently nudges Jon toward disaster. Leave it to Garfield to find a way to turn affirmation into a way of being negative.

Orange Cats Can't Polka

The solidly funny reveal of Jon's idea of the relationship intensity-level between attending professional lectures and looking at hosiery is supported in each panel by more-or-less normal interaction turned into comedy mirrors by the various failings and passions of the characters. This is, in the end, a strip about how goofy and bad Jon's taste is, while straight man Liz is wearing a lemon-lime tube top.

1: Jon's sentiment is not unwelcome (Liz returns it), but the thrust of his character is in how he earnestly announces "I like you" as a way to start a conversation. Garfield stands by watching, though he is not usually interested in Jon's doings, which makes us ask: what was going on before this scene?

2: I cannot praise enough, nor do I need to unpack the image of a man announcing "I think it's time we took our relationship to the next level" as he simultaneously makes a mad dash away from a woman. It is maybe not as relevant to Jon and Liz's lives as some other people's, but it is a fine portrait of human romance through the ages.

3: Pointless observation (!): seven bubblettes is a lot of little circles to descend from a thought bubble.

If Polka-Karaoke Night sounds fun to you (it kinda does to me), and/or you don't think polka is inherently funny, you have fallen prey to a trance effecting many Garfield readers. After 27 years, it's easy to forget Garfield is a cat. The joke is that Jon has a designated night that he sings polkas to his cat. Normally he is alone for this, but now that he has a girlfriend, she and Jon get to take turns singing to each other... and the cat. God help me, I want to see the strip where Jon spends hours trying to coax Garfield to do a Frankie Yankovic number.

Unlikely: -That Jon is able to hook up a microphone and amp and lug a full-sized accordion (they're heavy, folks) into the room with enough speed to surprise Liz. This is timing that works pretty well in Bob Clampett cartoons, and can be done in radio, but functions effortlessly in comics.
-That the karaoke festivities require live instruments, which would be more of a "Sing-Along as Jon Plays Accordion Night."
-That Garfield would be so happy about polka karaoke night. Unless he's being sarcastic and/or rubbing it in to Liz that this is what her life has become.

Meanwhile... The Let's Polka blog is incensed over today's strip. Please let this start a war between a polka blog and a Garfield blog: WELCOME TO THE 21ST CENTURY! The critics say Garfield is toothless; I say let 'em eat my big fat hairy deal.

Cat-tle and Hum

The most unlikely part of this dilemma is that he asks his cat if he ever hums. Everyone gets songs caught in their head. Everyone knows at least one cat food jingle, probably the Meow Mix song, because it is diabolically catchy and hilarious. I don't know if Alpo used to have a jingle of any note, but maybe Garfield also remembers that one from his endorsement deal back in the day. But Jon has been under a daily barrage of un-catlike behavior from Garfield, and constantly treats him as an equal. I love those moments when the unreality of this world becomes such a matter of course that Jon can just assume that Garfield has the ability to hum.

Mechanics of Garfield Thought Bubbles: Garfield is usually able to prompt Jon's disgusted sideways glance through meaningful silences and body language. Today a lack of verbal response and movement would indicate tot he casual reader that today violates the cardinal rule that Jon cannot hear Garfield's thoughts. Among the possibilities is a subtle version of: "Did I... really just ask my cat if he ever hums?"

Down in the West Texas Town of El Gato...

YAY! Jon understands why I love Garfield: that single straight line set and empty void backdrop create a Beckettesque abstract existential landscape for this lack-of-passion play. The "barren land" Jon wanders is a regular suburban house made unfamiliar and strange by being so very boring and slightly off. Please see Dr. Freud's The Uncanny... and Jim Davis' Garfield at Large!

Panel three reminds us (read: me) why we (read: me and Garfield) like Jon. He may be the pathetic moron in all of us, but he lives alone because he can entertain himself. No complaints from me if Garfield turns into a strip about Jon as a wandering country-western balladeer.

I Was Sure He'd Be Listening to "Am I Cool Or What?"

Gag panel and strip-proper unity alert! This rare occurrence is intensified by an equally rare joke-about-modern-technology. I do like that the strip isn't reliant on iPods in specific; in 1995, it could've been about Garfield's DiscMan, or in 1989 it could've been about Garfield's new Fisher-Price Pocket Rockers. There's also no hint of the hacky comic strip trope wherein fogeys cannot comprehend the technology of today- e.g. Dagwood shooting himself in the brain because he sees a VCR.

I read Garfield every day, but I'm first to admit that the humor is low-key, if not check-for-pulse catatonic - that's part of the fun. But this punchline actually made me laugh aloud. I even like Jon's innocent excitement to find out what delightful sounds must be inspiring this reverie. This is a fat-guy joke par excellence, and there should be much back-patting in Casa Davis this eve.

Finally, in the Gag Panel, Garfield's right earbud cord is loooong.

Radio Filled the Arbuckle Star

Lest you saucier Garfield readers think for a moment that Jon is being euphemistic in panel two, there is no double-entendre listing under "bug zapper" in any slang dictionary.

Thankfully, though Jon made it far enough into a date that he could attempt a kiss, there is no ultimate change in the romantic status quo. Jon's situation is so familiar that at this point, we not only need no jokes about his plaid jacket and polka dot tie, but no character need even acknowledge the outfit.

Dental Hijinks: The urban legend of dental equipment picking up radio waves is a little hackneyed even for Garfield: kid's book author Daniel Manus Pinkwater used it in Fat Men from Space, and Lucille Ball used to claim that signals on her fillings helped apprehend Japanese spies in California. It is cool how the radio fillings are just the middle link in an increasingly absurd plot... though as in the best Garfield, the on-page action is a man talking to his cat at the table.

Hawai'iana: In slight cultural faux pas, Jon has mistaken a dance for a type of music. The musical song and chant of the hula is a mele. Garfield, meanwhile, upon hearing that his owner is endowed with this strange power, is inspired to eat. The slight zoom-in for panel 3 is most certainly just to fit longer word balloons into the panel, but is jarring and forces us to consider Garfield's gross overreaction, and his logic which goes: music from teeth -> late night feast.