The OFF You Don't Put On

Witness: the ultimate collusion between Native American culture and American overpriced commercialism. Of course, the whole thing hits its full apex of sublime ghastliness with the sheer nihilism embodied in the idea of obliterating all dreams, incinerating the unconscious ramblings of the mind awash in its nighttime musings. It's precisely the type of sleeping death that you would expect not to find on prominent display in a shop window.

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Ziggy's got to be doing something slightly advanced to have encountered this sort of rebuff from his passive-aggressive computer. His system's quoting old Humphrey Bogart movies at him and all he wants to do is play Taipei. The Americanized tile-matching one - not the real one.


DISCUSSION QUESTION: Will Ziggy's senior citizen target audience understand the technology reference?

Pundit, Pundthat

I won't bother linking once again to the long series of adventures between Ziggy and the guru, but he's been making the trek up Big 'ol Lump Peak for increasingly-trivial trivialities (if you may permit me a brief redundancy). The guru has taken up astrology, celebrity gossip and even set up a Starbucks, but he's showing an uncharacteristic restraint here. As long as he understands his place and he's overcome his previous depression, I'm willing to overlook the fact that our titular character is essentially climbing up a near-vertical slope on a routine basis for single-sentence banalities. Mysticism is all a sham, of course, but so is politics.

Read the Fine Print

Zing! This strip's foray into contemporary economic humor certainly lays the lash to Bear Stearns investors. Ziggy stands by ineptly, like a gorilla with a terrible credit rating.

Judging by the fruity cursive of the word "and", this bespectacled official must have had quite a segue planned between the first and second halves of his sentence, before finally deciding that his operation was already shot to hell and it was time to disclose that his company has been neglecting FDIC regulations. I guess when you're destined for the slammer a bit of gallows humor can't hurt.

The Man in Black

Ziggy's toast is singing.

Ziggy (the strip, never the individual) often deals with topic of oppression, incompetence, and self-loathing, but I think I like it the most when it's just plain weird. And when your morning foodstuffs start crooning Johnny Cash your life is plenty weird. Ziggy seems a little put off by this development, but not necessarily afraid or confused. He's probably worried that his toast will continue its soulful tune through the twin trials of butter and jam, all the way to his linear mouth.

Classism

No doubt this is what you get when you recruit a daffy old Welsh couple to run the local Chuck-e-Cheese. Forcing the guests to make value judgements on their own selves every time they have to do a number one sounds so very, very British. It would turn their dusty little heads to learn that a gentleman's wizz is much the same as that of a mere ruffian.

Convention Cruiser

This farmhand is unusually well-read for an up-at-five harvester - he's quoting Robert Frost to passing motorists in need. This strip is certainly bucking common stereotypes today; it's not unusual to meet such a literate farmhand, but to meet one while driving a stolen pink convertible.

Fiscal Policy

This from the guy who uses abstract, confusing one-liners to justify budgetary procrastination and tries to pay his taxes with a song. This is hardly the worst decision that he has made. Even the bulbous man behind the leaning desk seems impressed.

Only the Artists Are Mad Here. . .

Lovely. Is Ziggy out of the hospital and back in his arbitrary, passive-aggressive world, or merely in a medication-fueled daze? Either way, this is one of the most entertaining strips we've seen since the giant squid attack.

So, who's the culprit? Painter smurf? The ghost of Bob Ross? Even, heaven forbid, this guy? And just what does he do to you when he catches you? Paint you to death? "You'll be looking like Slim Goodbody when I'm finished with you!!" Chilling.

"In times of sickness the soul collects itself anew. . ."

Poor Ziggy has lymphangioleiomyomatosis, or maybe something less communicable - the doctors certainly aren't keeping their distance. You can see his health dwindle on the graph at his bedside. Poor Ziggy may need a transfusion - it's just too bad the nearest hobbit/dwarf hybrid with the same blood type is hundreds of miles away, and bears an ancient grudge against Ziggy's warrior-clan.

Precious Moments

Aww, how precious. I wouldn't mind living in the magical, idealistic hippy paradise that Ziggy lives in, where you can pay for hemp sandals with a song and exchange beard hair for illicit favors. Barring some unusual singing ability on Ziggy's part, I imagine that his idealism is unfounded - he would have no place in this new, whacked-out economy of rainbows and crystal unicorns.

No Place For Questions of the Soul

Man, the Nighty News has gone philosophical on us all of a sudden. This is either some sort of misguided religious tract or merely a confusing self-evaluation question; heck, it may even be a veiled threat. Regardless, this little query seems destined to confuse the dickens out of everybody, especially our favorite pale little cave goblin, sitting alone in the dark in his terrifically-luminescent armchair.

I'll assume that the question stems from intents philosophical for the following response: we're all on our way out, buddy. Thanks for bloody well reminding me.

Bottles Not Books

Holycrapholycrapholycrap - the door must have been opened for the Apocalypse, because today's Ziggy is everything that I could have ever wanted, and it's a multi-panel endeavor to boot! It makes me forget yesterday's self-plagiarism. Presented, unmodified as always, as originally printed. This wonder requires a panel-by-panel, stream-of-consciousness analysis:

Panel 1 (after the unmodified-as-always throwaway panel in all its hospital-green splendor): Look! Ziggy's buying a sizable stack of books! That book on stress avoidance should come in handy. "Plink! Plink!" the excitable keyboard says as if in agreement.

Panel 2: "Coping With Persecution"! No way! "Plink! Plink!" Don't forget stress!

Panel 3: Anxiety and embarrassment. Pshaw! "Plink!"

Panel 4: Oops! You forgot your bag, Ziggy! Beep. . . beep. . . beep. . . - like some kind of fiendish water torture, it rains upon you.

Panel 5: Ziggy wipes sweat, tears and shirt lint all over the exit doors as he frantically shakes his fanny in a horrific parody of surrender. The Man converges upon him, prepared and eager to do their civic duty by riddling him with lead and anger.

Whoever said that Ziggy wasn't the darkest comic in the papers?

Déjà vu Redux

Well, we've passed nearly a month since the last direct incident of self-copying, and I don't think that it's a coincidence that both times the art has been measurably worse the second time around. I picture Tom Wilson and Tom II getting up at 11:30 in the morning in their respective places of residence, looking much like Ziggy here, before having a good half-dozen cups of coffee and getting ready to go to the store for more coffee and alarm clock batteries. Suddenly, the thought hits them: "Oh, crap! I have a comic to put together!"

A panicked phone call and quick glance at the morning's paper later, and we're blessed with this work of art, duplicated a second time, with inferior art. Hey - at least the emphasis has been placed on different words in the sentence, making the punchline completely different. I wonder if Ziggy's still getting up at 3:00 in the afternoon? Hey - I'm not going to be too hard on this strip - last week's lovingly-rendered octopus still resonates in my consciousness.

Bow Before the Grease Monkey

Look at that mechanic's bloodshot, sleepless eyes - he's a tweaker. It takes a goodly number of unnecessary repairs to finance such a lavish meth lab as the one brewing in Blueshirt McNametag's basement. The mechanic may be sufficiently confused to get Ziggy's lemon of a gas-guzzler confused with some fancy-schmancy organic car, but he knows what he'll be doing with his unfairly-sizable commission when his shift finally ends. Bubblers, beakers and benders - oh my!

Idiot Box, Next on FOX

Look at that face - empty, expressionless eyes, fixated squarely on the only moving object in the room: that series of swirling pixels and cathode rays that serves as the home's centerpiece. Veg the body, veg the mind. Fat, dumb and happy? Well, I suppose two out of three isn't bad.

The worst part about turning yourself into a vacant, television-respirating houseplant is having to get up to refill your drink. Here I speak from experience. Might want to check out one of those armchair toilets, but have it wired to the house's plumbing with a bidet so you don't have to clean it or your swollen, chafed and immobile butt.

Cutting Edge

Oh! Touché, indeed! This double dose of topical humor has left me in stitches!

I think it would be nice if Ziggy were to dictate all of his doings aloud to nobody in particular, coupled with an explanation of all of the possible ramifications. It would be unfortunate if Ziggy were to do anything unpredictable and we were unable to follow him to his next rollicking adventure!

Hellemarketer

What a world, what a world. Ziggy is no friend of the lenders, banks won't accept his hairless hobbit money, and he is occasionally attacked by large aquatic animals in his own bedroom, frequently enough that he is not surprised by it. Routine telephone abuse is hardly a stretch. "CLICK!!!"

Monetary Rebound

As the sleep-deprived, apathetic woman explains, Ziggy's smelly dwarf money is of no use here.

The Weirdness

A fantastic, surreal strip like this is almost enough to convince me that Tom Wilson and "Tom II" must be in cahoots with Gahan Wilson. Throw in a couple of comically-grotesque figures and this could nearly pass for one of the more sentimental Wilson panels. Though I can't imply that the two Wilson clans bear any close relation, the prospect of a fish being forced to fight a giant squid seems to have come straight from one of Gahan's sketches.

Fight valiantly, little fish.

EDIT: The ferocity of the unfolding scene almost kept me from noticing Ziggy's pimpin' coat. Almost, but not quite.

More Commands

Not much to say here. Just a perfectly normal, passive-aggressive sign with an attitude. The ruthless suppression of dissent doesn't really get to me because it's difficult to imagine Ziggy complaining about anything. Ziggy's mind would really blow if the last line were: "And NO reading this sign!"

Vicarious

This is barely even satire. The worst news stations, particularly local news, try to shield you from bad news, but the national news stations have no such options. That's why most national news stories are about events happening far, far away, or to imaginary people in the future ("is [substance] in your water? Find out at nine!"). If the parents of the major news networks, most of whom manufacture weapons, wanted you to hear the news that applied to you and that would affect your future, they would report it. It's good this is my last post for the day because now my ire is up.

Friend in Need

Best strip since "DENTAL FLOSS MALFUNCTION!"

Clutch that beanie, Ziggy. Clutch it in desperation. Now how are you gonna pay off that bookie?"

A Three-Legged Dog Walks Into a Bar

Ten Reasons Why We Do Not Have
Dog-Focused Reality Television:

10. The canine kingdom, as a whole, do not represent a particularly-influential consumer group.

9. Dogs are generally incapable of changing channels, or, indeed, of comprehending anything at all.

8. Dogs are generally subject to the whims of their masters, most of whom do not share the same interests.

7. An early ratings dropoff is inevitable as various moving and fragrant objects distract the target viewing audience.

6. Dogs' genitals wag all over the place when they walk. It would never get past the censors. I'm just sayin'.

5. Actually, 6 more than deserves two spots.

4. The closed-captioning work would be repetitive.

3. Dogs have higher priorities than TV-watching, such as sniffing their own excrement.

2. Even dogs aren't stupid enough to watch reality television.

1. Nobody wants to see an hour of this:

(Is it just me, or is Ziggy's dog taking a huge poop on the floor in disapproval?)

Violenza Domestica

What a nice little food triangle developing. In a way it's Ziggy's own fault for placing the bird's perch directly above the goldfish bowl, well within dunking distance. This parrot's evil glare is intense and inescapable - nobody escapes from this evil maw.

It's always possible that the bird has no intention of eating our glum little fishy anytime soon - he's too caught up in the power structure of sadistic threats and pressure afforded by his position. If this trend continues he may have to be put down soon.

"Every exit is an entrance somewhere else."

Watch Ziggy's face screw up in consternation as he works this little doozy out. Trapped in a Carollesque nightmare, or perhaps something out of Escher, making heads or tails out of this door seems to be out of the question.

The nauseating color scheme in this facility, taken with the door's confusing message, seems to point toward some sort of behavioral study. But when did I volunteer?, Ziggy thinks to himself,
And why do I hear laughter from the other side of that large mirror on the wall?

Knowing Others is Wisdom, Knowing the Self is Enlightenment

This one makes me scream inside. On yet another wacky pilgrimage to the top of Mount Inner Peace, Ziggy encounters some homophonic topical humor, asking the guru what happened to the guru. America finds its "hip" consumer culture in a precarious position, and, on this tiny, isolated mountain in the middle of nowhere, it's no different.

Once again, we see evidence that this wise old mountain sage is leagues more wayward and lost than any of us, yet Ziggy still trusts in his wisdom. Perhaps he can't see past the beard and the robe to the confused, scared soul within, or maybe he has far too much invested in such an arduous journey to feel any well-justified disappointment. Either way, it's a long trek down. Ziggy might want to see to installing a ski lift for future fruitless hikes.

The upside? We've been right calling him "guru" all this time.

Travel Times

Left: Some ethnic humor in the last couple of Ziggys. I suspect that the May 30's strip (on the left) may be a reference to common computerized telephone messages: "To continue in English, press 1." In this case, it's more like: "To continue in English, do not turn right toward Central America." Ziggy must follow the beckon of the freakishly-oversized signs. I love the trademark ellipses before and after the phrase, as well as the unecessary boldface.

Right: This strip is a little more controversial - the travel agency has apparently hired a woman for whom "ethnic" is synonymous with "cheap and tawdry." The unnecessary bolding for "ethnic" really drives the point home. Ziggy looks freakishly huge compared to the receptionist.

I'd like to suggest another solution to Ziggy's budget concerns - I'm sure he'd find loads of people willing to rub his head for a dollar.