In the interest of not coming off like a total gutter-headed individual, I’m just going to leave this strip here with minimal comment:

“Jesus Christ that is so gross. I never wanted the opportunity to call Garfield a Tuna-Mouthed Pussy …Cat.”

Well, God forbid the mouse plays a regular-sized saxophone! That would be terrible.

(Seriously, though, pretty good image to think of. I almost wish, for once, that we could actually have that sight gag shown instead of told. But I’m pretty happy either way.)

Yes, it’s been forever. But I’m only stopping in briefly to ask one question: is there a typo in the last panel? Does Garfield officially use a “garfield-like computer font” to letter? I wouldn’t be surprised, but it’s still sort of sad news to me (I’m a classicist). The other option is that Garfield has sent Odie on a bus to:

1. Hang out with an administrative subdivision in Ancient Egypt

2. Hang out with an administrative subdivision in Greece

3. Norway

4. Alaska

5. Texas

6. North Dakota

Or, 7. He has sent him to look inside himself with the spiritual teacher named Nome.

The possibilities are slightly less limitless than you’d think. But it’s probably just a typo.

It’s the return of decent comedic plotting/timing/actual work!

Garfield takes a chomp out of Jon, but we don’t see it.  His punchline, too, such as it is, is delivered in such a monotone (of expression, that is)— though is that the slightest down-turn of his eyelids into a frown?

Maybe.  Really, though, Jon was asking for it— after 36 years or whatever, shouldn’t he know better than to A) tell Garfield he’s smelling like Bacon, B) actually go so far as to smell like Bacon (really Jon? was that Liz’s idea? is Bacon-scented-Men really her scene?), and C) wear a mustard-color shirt.  

Really, Jon’s whole body just looks like a Ham sandwich on Wheat, dashed with the essence of Bacon.  I’m (not) salivating just looking him.

I’d like to draw attention to today’s strip not for any kind of accidental-psychedelia, nor to sigh at the continued downfall of the strip’s quality, or any of the usual tropes of Garfield as a whole.

Today, I’d like to bring to attention that this strip is Genuinely Funny.  Like, I chuckled out loud.  Funny!  ”Momma didn’t raise no bounce house.” That is a funny line!  It’s just the right amount of nonsense when coming out of Garfield’s mouth.

It’s not going to change the world.  It’s not the best joke in the world.  But it doesn’t have to.  When people insult Garfield, they seem to forget that it’s just a newspaper strip.  It’s not like a series of paintings, or a series of novels, or a television series, where the bar was raised so high that when the quality dips, you really feel it.  

Garfield was always a newspaper strip.  It never tried to be more than that, at least not within the confines of the strip itself.  It never tried to raise the bar, never tried to attempt anything like consistent story lines (with few exceptions, which, somewhat obviously, were the best of the bunch), never had characters who aged, and especially not characters who died.  

The status quo always, always remains the same on Garfield.  The reason America (nay, the WORLD) has such a collective boner for the “good ol’ days” of Garfield has little to do with the quality of the strip.  It’s all due to marketing, and merchandizing, and the absolute deluge of name brand silliness.  Garfield ravioli.  Garfield tank tops. Garfield action figures.  Garfield throw rug.  Garfield & Friends (the show). Not to mention the Garfield books themselves, that perfect-sized (or at least they used to be) world of Garfield.

Being surrounded by Garfield’s face was what was so exciting about Garfield.  Drinking out of a mug that says “merry kissmas” with Garfield riding a candy cane was exciting (I am doing this right now).  Sticking those tiny suction-cupped Garfields to your car was exciting.  

And while all of this marketing totally worked (read this great article for more on the topic, btw), it also distracted everybody from the ultimate truth: that Garfield was never a very good newspaper strip.  Yes, it’s had funny moments, and Yes, the artwork for it has been better.  But Garfield has prided itself as always being the same.

So that’s why, when I read today’s strip, that I laugh out loud and move on with my day (after writing a huge blog about it, obvi).

Because that’s what you’re supposed to do with Garfield strips. Chuckle, move on.

More wonderful Garfield themed art.  I’m going to make a hypothesis on this one and say that these images are sourced from the Garfield Commodore 64 game?  Recolored, maybe.  And that game has a killer theme song (by which I mean a killer ONE SONG that plays NONSTOP through the ENTIRE game.)  That game, “Big Fat Hairy Deal,” looks like most C64 games, by which I mean really boring.

Anyways, I love that Jon’s nightmare has him in a Nemo-like Slumberland, haunted by the floating image of Garfield in an inexplicable bathing suit (inexplicable, because, as we know, Garfield doesn’t need a swimsuit, he’s got a fur coat!)

Really though, this just makes me want a hot dog.

(via badatpettingcats)

toothandnail:

(via perma-scowl, pizzzatime)

Let’s take time out of the norm to discuss this bit of Young Garfield Fan Art.  Suffice to say, it’s doing everything right.  Look at Garfield’s wistful face in panel one, staring up to the heavens, as if the question of “Should I Look?” is asked to the creator itself (and in fact, of course it is, and mankind only wishes we could have a checkbox meant for God for every decision).

And of course, the payoff is great.  It follows the time-honored (yet oft ignored in traditional Garfield humor) rule of “not-showing=funnier.”

I think the best part about this is how little we’re really given to know that this is Garfield rather than any other cat.  We’ve got triangles, two big eyes, the sort of incorrect way that a cat’s face works, and the name “Jon.”  It’s probably the elegance of Garfield’s design that really helped him take off.  Garfield’s original, way-too-fat look wouldn’t have sold Mugs.  His streamlined version makes much more sense, advertisingly (ha) as well as aestheticallyly.

It’s a known fact that Jim Davis doesn’t generally celebrate holidays (that’s why that whole Veterans Day kerfuffle happened— not only does he do his strips a year in advance, but apparently he doesn’t even do them in order).  I was, however, under the assumption that New Year’s Day was one of the “holidays” that he did, in fact, celebrate, or at least acknowledge.

However, taking this new year’s strip in that context somewhat robs it of the joy I derive from it.  Read like that, the gag is merely “the crystal ball predicts sleep in Garfield’s oncoming year, Garfield can’t resist the lull.”  What a lame crystal ball!  It only had to show either eating or sleeping, and Garfield couldn’t have resisted it (though the idea of Garfield eating a crystal ball is prreeetttyyy fffuuunnnyyy).

I, of course, choose to read this strip in the more occult way.  That crystal ball sees Garfield, who thinks he’s just going to have a little bit of fun (look at his cool turban!), but really is going to fall under the evil, evil spell of the crystal ball.  Look at the second panel! Garfield is surprised by what he sees inside that ball, and by panel three, he’s succumbed to it’s Sleep-Spell.  And look at Jon! Also surprised by the Crystal’s power!  Will he be strong and resist? Or will he, too, be pulled under.

But what does the Crystal Ball get out of this deal? If everyone in Muncie falls asleep, does the cruel genie inside get released?  What then?  What does this malevolent super-being have in mind for ruling a sleepy Indiana town?

First Muncie, tomorrow the World.

(if there was ever a motto for 2011, that should be it…)

Look at the last three panels.  Look at them.

Beauty.  There hasn’t been that much drawn energy in a Garfield strip in years!  It’s so well realized! And look at the follow-through, how Jon’s shirt is lifted in the penultimate panel, and remains so in the last.  

Oh, it’s so great to see.  There was a while in Garfield’s run that there was actually a lot of really nice pen and ink work going on.  When he started, JD was a pretty lousy marksman.  From the late eighties to the late nineties, he actually had a great hand on him!  

Really, Garfield’s reliance these days on the “infinite table and nothing else” design scheme, is more of a “bottom end of the knowing circle” return-to-form.

As a final note, Jon is very angry in the last panel.  As he should be, because instead of helping him get the coals started, they watched him try for over an hour, straining his brittle lungs, and laughing, probably.  Laughing, sipping martinis.  Liz watched him, slowly sucking a cigarette, wondering how long it would take.  He had to die sooner or later, and she could cash in on his inheritance.  Being the heir to one of the last great farming empires left in America, Jon’s take was sure to be paramount.  But the plan hadn’t worked out the way she wanted.  He couldn’t take the hint that she wanted marriage, and she couldn’t be forceful with him, he might have realized her true intentions.  

She finished her cigarette and lit another.  His grotesque cat rubbed against her legs, and she kicked him out of the way.  She consoled herself with the thought that though her plan may be taking longer than she’d imagined, it could never be stymied by that classic thorn:

She could never, ever fall in love with him.

It seems like these days, you never expect Garfield to deliver.  Then, out of the blue, BAM! There it is— a new strip that plumbs the depth of sanity, to deliver… what, a joke?  Is there a joke in yesterday’s strip?

No, there isn’t.  There’s a punchline. But that’s different, and besides, whatever the joke was supposed to be in panel one, panel three is disconnected from it.  With strips like these, ol’ JD is really turning into a truly Dada state.  It’s like he’s resorted to cut-up writing, but for Garfield strips.  It’s funny, because there are sites that already do this, but it’s much more interesting to see it from the Man Himself.

Also, seeing Garfield in a trenchcoat only serves to make his grotesque feet even more hideous.