Ink Stud Fever

Rare, valuable confirmation of Jon's profession! and...
Meta-self-loathing!

Daniel Clowes once compared the compliment of being a generation's most famous underground cartoonist to being "the world's most famous badminton player." Jim Davis comes right out and depicts cartoonists as universally despised. The gag is no more explicit than "everyone hates cartoonists," so one can only speculate on the precise reasons for Liz's folks' panic. Given the personal problems plaguing a vast percentage of comics artists, perhaps those fears are not unfounded. Not without historical precedent are: O.C.D., chronic depression, impotence, sex mania, alcoholism, BDSM, agoraphobia, womanizing, domestic violence, megalomania, schizophrenia, L.S.D. damage, antisemitism, Libertarianism, Objectivism, perpetual misery, religious zealotry, intense assholism, insanity. More of these lives have ended in suicide, self-destruction, and sorrow than seems statistically reasonable.

The other roles in our world under harsh criticism today are children and parents, which constitutes the entire population. Liz's parents are unable/ unwilling to conceal their disappointment in their daughter's lifestyle choices. Liz, being a strong-willed professional woman of cool, detached demeanor, may or may not care that her parents have expectations of Liz that differ from her own. The Wilsons' disapproval takes the form of a (feigned?) threat to their physical health, forcing Liz to express concern even if she has seen past her boyfriend's social caste and her parents' prejudice.

The parent who expects more of their child than general good health, ability to function in adult society, and the pursuit of personal happiness is setting everyone up for a Catch-22 of doom. The inevitably imperfect offspring can never feel adequate and the tyrant parent will never be satisfied. This cycle begins at birth and does not end until the family tree is burnt to the ground.

One strategy for potential liberation from this loop is through acts of rebellion. Not without its own associated damages, this kind of resistance, conscious or unconscious, still binds one to the wheel: decades into adulthood you're still just acting out against your parents. The more they don't want you to date a cartoonist, the more you may feel compelled to date a cartoonist.

Compare and contrast to Liz's BF having this conversation with his mother. So long has Jon been, well, Jon, that the smallest measure of triumph in his life causes her mind to snap and body to shut down. Note the parallel, though: Jon and Liz's announcements both cause physical reactions and near-suffocation in their parents. Whether overjoyed or displeased, we'll be the death of them.

Also, hmm, Betty Wilson... Betty Wilson... ah, Betty Wilson.

Cat Scratch Fever

Title Panel: Normally a non sequitur opportunity to place Garfield and his name in unfamiliar context for no reason, today the title panel takes advantage of the forum's allowance of exaggerated artwork to create an impressionistic emblem of the character's key passions for food, sleep, and outrageous laziness. The drawing is stretched and grotesque enough that only by familiarity with Garfield iconography we even recognize what we're looking at. It is an image of comical concentration that could have run by itself as a daily strip.

Garfield: With just as much exertion of his arm muscle, could have scratched his own back. Or he could have done what other cats do, and curled up in Jon's lap for a petting. But achieving simple goals through psychological gamesmanship is a Garfield habit, and most of the time proving his manipulation skills seems to mean more than taking pleasure in the desired result. There are times in life when enjoying the journey over the destination is healthy and meditative. This is not one of them.

Jon: Jon has a great series of takes in the bottom row, in which he thinks he has Garfield's hand-signal game figured out, then for some reason starts really getting into it, and ends with an Arbuckle slow-burn... as he continues scratching Garfield's back. There are few things in human psychology more hilarious to behold than someone confidently plowing forward when we know he is clueless, and a man trudging forward through an activity he hates as he complains about doing it.

Cat's Donut Dance

Panel 1: Damn it, Jon, seriously, you left a plate of donuts out on the table unguarded? You expect to be eating any donuts today? Though he is not in it, this panel tells us more about Jon than Garfield; about his bottomless capacity for trust, and refusal to admit how his friend treats him. Fall guys are funniest when they set up their own fall.

Panel 2: Well. At least Jon was only expecting "a donut" out of an entire plate of sinkers. When a man's dreams are so small... it just makes them easier to crush.

I haven't anything insightful to add about it, but Garfield standing with hands on hips and expression of satisfaction at a mouthful of fried dough gave me a laughing cramp.

Panel 3: The giant cat tongue is a good sight gag, offering saliva-drenched food a good gross-out gag, and the conciliatory gesture Garfield knows Jon would never accept a sharp character note about remorselessness and insincerity. Note also: It is impossible to know how much time elapses between Panels 1 and 2, which is the secret power of the punchline. In Panel 2 it looks for all the world like Garfield is chewing the donuts. Surprise! This begs another question. If all six donuts visible on the plate are accounted for on his tongue, plus another presumably buried in the stack, plus another now mushed into his cheeks, where in his anatomy was Garfield concealing the 8+ donuts? And where might we get a donut with pale blue frosting?

Verdict: Garfield donut jokes are hilarious.

The Cookie, The Thief, His Stripes & the Poster

A good comedy rule of thumb is that passive aggressive behavior is usually funnier than confrontation. Admittedly, Garfield frequently disproves or at least flaunts its disregard for this rule. Today we see it fully embraced, however. At first a normal person would wonder why a man would avoid direct confrontation with his own cat. The stakes are low. The offense of having eaten the last cookie is petty, and probably not even punishable. There is no mystery about the offender: Jon knows perfectly well that Garfield is guilty.

The lengths Jon goes to in forcing Garfield's confession may not seem as excessive as Hamlet Act 3, Scene 2, but relative to the crime, maybe they are. And Garfield reacts with glaring rage, but doesn't apologize. What else could Jon have expected or wanted? And yes, that last poster likely says "REWARD," and Jon is taping it up in his own home, as if anyone were there to see it and collect such a reward besides Garfield or possibly Liz. Well, sometimes our desire for small, meaningless vindication is enough motivation.

Q: It is impossible to tell in the context of Garfield artwork, but has Jon done an artist's rendering of the lost cookie? ... Or had he for some reason taken a photograph of the cookie before its disappearance, in anticipation of just this situation? One hopes for the latter, as it indicates a sad acceptance by Jon of Garfield's ability to shape his life.

Hungry Pets 2

Every reader understands the basic gag today, and that it is accurately portrayed cat activity to get up in your face, disrupt what you're doing, and sit on your reading material when they want something. Like it or hate it, the self-centered rules of the cat world can be a funny, blunt mirror of how people treat each other. It's an especially nice touch the way they purr and try to look cute as if you should appreciate their demands for attention.

There are subtle shades to Garfield's particular brand of amalgamation of cat behavior and human behavior. Garfield, perfectly capable of getting his own food, likes being a bother. Likes it very much. Garfield's lazy desire to be waited upon, and the way he sort of exploits the situation to provide an excuse to be rude are distinctly human. While he may not look happy about what's going down, Garfield does throw the audience the loaded glance that means he's about to roll up his sleeves and get to work. I would not hazard to say that Garfield would enjoy being hungry for the mere chance to pester Jon (some priorities outweigh all other considerations), but when opportunity pops its head, the man-cat pounces.

Meanwhile, panel three provides an unfortunate reminder of Garfield's salami-thick tail.

Jon Candy 2.0

Title Panel: When Hippie Garfield hallucinates, he sees letters spelling out his own name and built of his own flesh. He is so self-involved that while pursuing enlightened states, he ends up deeper inside a maze of his own identity so encompassing it threatens to edge his physical form out of the frame.

The Journey of the Candy Bar: An allegory about the pleasure of anticipation, the power of guilt, and the eternal cycles that leave no hunger satisfied and no behavior rewarded. Though if we think about the individual characters, it is unlikely Odie has the power to guilt-trip Garfield into relinquishing the chocolate bar, Garfield sometimes (frequently on Sundays) asks the cast to enact jokes with full awareness of their own archetypes. The strip plays on the dynamic that Garfield will shamelessly steal Jon's food, and that Jon is so used to defeat in all things that he gives up without a fight. It also sets up an endless loop; these three have been through the scenario so many times, it's hardly about getting to enjoy the candy anymore. Nobody ever will; it's a Milk Chocolate Maltese Falcon. The power isn't with you because you have the material goods, and it's not in the McGuffin itself. It's in knowing you can wrest the chocolate from Jon at any time.

YAWN!

Jon's shock in panel 2 must be the realization that Garfield can swallow his head. Or perhaps it is envy that Garfield can yawn with an exclamation point.

Now, I realize that Jon is really supposed to be an all-purpose "loser," but sometimes that means he's boring, but sometimes means he is eccentric to the point of possible mental illness. All we ask is a little consistency, Garfield! I'm not sure what I think of Jon's increasingly frequent habit of sucking in his bottom lip to further accentuate his overbite when he is irritated with Garfield's behavior. I am sure that I like that today's strip is about a man pissed off that his cat doesn't want to hear what he thinks.

The bonus joke here is that Jon also "knows" what Garfield thinks, on an almost daily basis.

Lordy, I've been looking at Jon calling women for so long that the table looks barren without the phone sitting on it.

I Love Mondays!

Panel One: Direct address much, cat who is supposedly thinking? If that's not Garfield's sign, whose is it? Someone else in the neighborhood has a nasty cat that is worse than Garfield?

Panel Two: I will buy the excuse that Garfield almost always takes place on a straight line before a blank background, because of Jon's Spartan interior decoration. But this strip must take place in an open field.

Panel Three:
a. "Intimidation by association" isn't really far enough in meaning from "guilt by association" to be a "pun" or a "parody."

b. Garfield promptly does physically threaten someone, and has a 30-year history of prior assaults. It is less intimidation by association than "intimidation by intimidation."

c. That man is only a head taller than a cat.

d. Robert Crumb cameo?

At Play in the Garfields of the Lord

Jon went on a date and we didn't get to see it. Too bad. Jon's dates going wrong are always good strips, because we get to see that in the Garfield world, everyone is nuts. It's easy to forget when we don't see another human for months at a time.

I'm sure Garfield's remark is supposed to be sarcastic and/or rude, but it's also kind of equivocal; at least this Karen person was courteous. Jon looks angry or disappointed that he will not be seeing more of this woman (his expression changes are subtle but register a progression), but she sounds potentially codependent, so it's probably for the best.

The New Century cat design is getting more grotesque. Those massive clodhoppers are fucking insane, yes, but when did Garfield's arms (why bother calling them "front legs"?) become one inch long?!

In other curious news, I am concerned about Jon's lumpy back-fat. It's getting out of hand.

Looks 10, Jon 0

I didn't realize the "Hitting on Girls in the Park" was going to be a running story this week. Also "excess of motion lines" will appear in today's strip.

Again, Jon's utter denial when it comes to rejection by women seems less "dumb" to me than "dangerously delusional." Based on Arbuckle's recoil surprise-take in panel 2, some part of him must know he's being insulted. Meanwhile, Garfield is ashamed because Jon can't get laid. Is Jon trying to maintain his cool in front of his cat?

I fully understand why any red-blooded American man would take a chance with this dish. I had no idea public parks were frequented Veronica Lodge lookalikes who go for walks in matching heels, evening dress and big plastic purple earrings. Good cripes, please investigate her crotch definition! That dress is not only impossibly form-fitting, but some colorist's erotic imagination went nutzo, and it's also very verrry shiny. Especially on the boobs... and ass... and... it's like she swaddled her lady-parts in SaranWrap.