Polly wanna pizza

His ungrateful little bastihd behavior continues. See, Ziggy bought an enormous pallet of crackers on the pretense that they'd be right suitable for, y'know, a parrot. These crackers are priced to move and Ziggy's not going to eat that kind of avian crap.

And he's clearly not the target market See, Ziggy likes blue things. He was willing to tolerate that parrot and his infernal brown stand, but this may be the last straw that allows him to acknowledge that he has long stood on the far side of the edge he fell over when Mother died.

A TV remote as fat as a Symphony Bar

Ten months ago when I forged Ziggy Liberated in the fires of Mount Most Unpleasant, I gave a solemn oath to give each multi-panel Ziggy strip my undivided attention. So far I've held myself to my solemn oath (despite the rarity of these occurences), all with an insatiable sense of internal wonder at Ziggy's breach of standard protocol.

Today we see "Josh" the Parrot and "Fuzz" the Dog engaged in a game of friendly interspecial domination. "Josh," . . . ah, forget it. The Parrot's dominance over the day's games can be inferred by the inclusion of his signature colors in the first panel. Though avian dominance over large blue-eyed dogs is uncommon (by all account the Parrot should have been playfully - and repeatedly - mauled by this point), there's little reason to doubt the value of instructing a dog to fetch what appears to be large bars of chocolate from a nearby Sam's Club.

Polly doesn't know what he wants

Are animals capable of dishonesty? My cat certainly feigns displays of affection for food and attention, which in a simple, instinctual way is a type of lie. This parrot, on the other hand, says things that he clearly doesn't mean but that have become parrot custom (I'm sure he makes the same excuse following Tourettes-like bursts of racial slurs in public). Animals are definitely capable of their own types of subterfuge (like camouflage and decoy) though these usually entail life-or-death matters of protecting oneself from predators or entrapping possible prey. Humans admittedly do the same thing in slightly more sophisticated ways, if we allow "predator" and "prey" to take on more general meanings.

Anyway, there's no excuse for a supersentient parrot not understanding that "Polly wanna cracker" totally bloody means you want a frickin' cracker.

What is the "blue corn moon" anyway?

Apparently, this bird never learned to paint with all the colors of the wind. He's getting too hung up about ownership, man, avian or hominid. He needs to keep in mind that Ziggy's house is less an ownable estate and more an all-species commune, where everybody just pretty much hangs out and lives, man, lives! No pot, though.

Don't buy the Judge Parker Crunchies, kids!

Actually, Ziggy's eating "Trail Mix", the only snack food fully licensed and endorsed by outdoorsman/animal-loving ranger Mark Trail. Maybe a look at the ad will give some proper context:

Bad things happen when you only have MS Paint available.

He also controls the stove of hellfire

Really? I'd love to read that Bible. Judging by the looks on both the cat's and parrot's faces (the dog being incapable of holding malice), Ziggy is the kind of God that you carve up and throw into a volcano.

Still, this gets into the question of worship through utility. Culture throughout history have worshiped some non-omniscient, non-omnipotent beings merely because they believed them to have control over some singular aspect of their existence. For hunter-gatherers it was fertility and protection from death and disease, while primitive agriculturists followed beings with control over the rain and invading pests. Modern Christians train their children to pray for random favors such as bicycles and generic "blessings" for others. After all, if you can't do it for yourself, then isn't there something remarkable about the one with that particular talent or ability? All of this is just a roundabout way to say that, within a limit subsection of Animalia, a God of can openers may not be that farfetched a concept.

EDIT: Somehow I printed this one on the wrong day. I doubt it will destroy the Ziggy chronology.

Is "Ziggy" Within US Jurisdiction?

REQUEST FOR URGENT BUSINESS RELATIONSHIP FIRST I MUST PLEAD FOR YOUR STRICTEST CONFIDENCE AS FOR THIS TRANSACT=ION. THIS IS AN EXTREMELY CONFIDENTIAL MATTER OF PERSONAL BUSINESS AND I CANNOT AFFORD THIS INFORMATION TO FALL TO PUBLIC KNOWLEDGE FOR THE SHORT TERM. FOR OVER TWENTY YEARS I AM WRITER OF A COMIC STRIP KNOWN AS ZIGGY. I HAVE BEEN CONSULTING WITH OFFICIALS IN NAIROBI FOR A TRANSFER OF A LARGE NUMBER OF JOKES OVERSEAS TO THE UNITED STATES. THESE JOKES AND COMIC STRIP IDEAS HAVE BEEN IN TRANSIT FOR SOME TIME BUT ARE UNABLE TO LEAVE THE COUNTRY DUE TO CUSTOMS ISSUES. IN ORDER TO COMMENCE THIS BUSINESS AND SECURE THE FUNDS NECESSARIE FOR THIS ACTION I REQUIRE PURCHASE OF LARGE QUANTITIES OF THE CLASSIC ANIMATED SHORT "ZIGGY'S GIFT." I AM SORRY BUT IN MY CURRENT CAPACITY AS A CARTOONIST I AM UNABLE TO CONTACT YOU DIRECTLY, AND I MUST APOLOGIZE FOR HAVING TO SPEAK TO YOU IN THIS WAY. IN RETURN FOR THIS SERVICE OF DVD PURCHASES, I AM AUTHORIZED TO TRANSFER YOU THE SUM OF 1,284,228 ORIGINAL ZIGGY STRIPS (107079 DOZEN) UPON COMPLETION OF THIS TRANSATION. YOURS FAITHFULLY, TOM WILSON NOTE; PLEASE QUOTE THIS REFERENCE NUMBER (ZG/P/09/99) IN ALL YOUR RESPONSES.

Force a Storyline Thursday

"Fine - I don't wanna listen to your stupid bird conspiracies anyway."


Recently Ziggy's parrot has had Don Corleone eyes for no real reason; though consistency is not a hallmark (ha!) of this feature Ziggy's expression suggests that he is being menaced by some type of avian cabal. Pissed-off purple bird above may have a hand in this.

. . . And now the mice are involved. Ziggy is positively seething in fear, if such a thing is possible.

Only the dog is on Ziggy's side, perhaps because the birds and mice (along with, presumably, other unseen accomplices) found him too dense to include in their plans. In other news, Ziggy's ideal woman creeps me right the heck out.

The Green Team

I noticed this Superteam has attempted a matching color scheme. I don't think the bird is pissed for want of a higher position than sidekick - after all, he was a cult leader last week - but because superhero teams are actually supposed to do things.

I've been lacking in philosophy for some time, now, and seeing as it's the stated goal of this blog to find philosophy in unlikely places, I'm going to have to answer my inner voices of responsibility and get cracking.

Patent absurdity of the talking pet situation aside, our protagonist's situation seems to mirror the plight of the modern everyman who, having filled his life with devices of convenience, comfort and mobility, suddenly reaches a point where an uncomfortable paradox sets in: an oversaturation of free time and leisure with no real avenue of escape. In other words, our modern man, suddenly able to go everywhere and do everything, is suddenly left with nothing at all to do.

Amidst the blaring electronic equipment in the house, blistering speeds reachable by the internal combustion engine, and instant communication all over the world, we hit the Saturation Event Horizon and are left with nothing to watch, nowhere to go, and noone to talk to. I've read stories that modern man is getting dumber. And that's the only world that's scarier than a return to the Dark Ages of production and technology, and you can already start to see it now: a world full of comfortable, unmotivated people who sit alone in their nice houses getting upstaged by their pets.

Which Circle of Hell Do Bad Cooks Go To?

A barbecue gone wrong - a smoldering, open-air infernal cavern of cinderns and soot. And, lo, a voice from the mire: a voice of mock'ry, a voice of discouragement and sharp scorn. For embedded in the mess of smoke appears a demonic force, one whose sole purpose at the moment appears to be either to provide a negative incentive toward future grilling on Ziggy's part, or to persuade him to eat that which may be unhealthy to his little frame. Even the awful parrot looks down upon this unwelcome intrusion from the world of hellfire into an innocent, albeit misguided, attempt at a simple backyard barbecue.

Fly Sauce

I originally wrote paragraph after paragraph analyzing avian dietary concerns, just which condiments go well with seed, and the courtesy of complaining about such a trivial element of such a beauteous bounty.

Then I figured that I was over-analyzing things and wrote the copout you see above. Bottom line - if you're a parrot who can talk and you're eating birdseed, it's your own fault.

AARIP

Remember when Big Bird learned what happened to old Mr. Hooper? I think that it's about time for this scowling menagerie to learn what it means for a pet to "retire". The dog doesn't seem particularly upbeat - perhaps he already knows.

Ziggy has a duck?

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.

Animal House - Double Play

My schedule has beaten the heck out of me as of late, so today you're seeing double. Both of these are pretty funny if you stop to look at them:


Remind you of something?


Both pictures depict that moment of pure bestial malice and confident rage wherein the soul abandons the body, the pupils of the eyes vanish, and the sight of soft, supple prey supplants all rational thought. Where man has seen these eyes there can be only pain, death, and finally a large, off-color spot on the floor peppered with scraps of fabric and the signs of struggle.

What a change in demeanor from the parrot's last appearance. Reckon he's caught the yellow fever.



What an odd request for this jumpsuited pest control teen-turned bounty hunter - a rescue mission for personal belongings. The objectives of this mission are a great deal more subtle than the usual "Let none survive!" instructions given to fumigators.

Good luck with that, Ziggy. Jumpsuit Gas Man's constant on-the-job exposure to the potent fumes of his trade has shot his comprehension to hell. You'd have better luck giving instructions to the duffel bag at your feet.

And what of the mice? For a species whose goal is to lay low and forage quietly out of sight, these mice sure go to a lot of trouble to draw attention to themselves. Why, they'll be making off with the insulin next! I'm sure Ziggy would kill for some of Garfield's mice - they mostly just want to make friends. On the rare occasion that they, for example, make off with the entire refrigerator, they at least do so in a comical manner. Ziggy's mice mainly stay out of sight, tormenting him from the safety of their lairs. In fact, Ziggy's got such an inferiority complex that he's the one who feels excluded:

A Moment of Repose

At first glance, Ziggy seems to be rocking himself to madness, perhaps in response to yesterday's fruitless search for guidance. The bags under his eyes attest that he's been at it for most of the night, manically pondering the elusive nature of meaning as he and his parrot rock to oblivion*.

But that's only the first glance. The second glance is far more nirvanic. If we assume that the bags in Ziggy's eyes are caused merely by lack of sleep and not by crushing, abject melancholy, then this strip can be read as a communion between man and nature. Certainly the parrot looks pleased - it knows that true meaning can be found only in the context of a friend. And that's about as sentimental as I feel like getting today.

I have tried to render the moment of communion for you:

How completely serene. Anybody else notice that the undersides of Ziggy's feet appear to be concave and have a tread pattern?

(Possible additional themes: Shhh. . . go pet a cat.)

* The "Rocking to Oblivion" tour! Three days only - get your tickets online at etc., etc.