For help on how to follow a comic title,
My grandparents lived a block-and-a-half from my grade school. A couple of times a month, I’d go over there for lunch. Grandma fed us a great meal, and Grandpa would play a tune on his fiddle. “Pop! Goes the Weasel” or “Turkey in the Straw,” usually. A treasured childhood memory, spoiled by the over-amplified PA of the neighborhood ice cream truck.
By that reasoning, you might say that “Moby Dick” is a “whales’ book.”
I’ve read that marketing flack gunk before. It amazes me. “Intelligent wit, gentle spirit and effortless diversity.” Yes, Mallett is an intelligent wit, no doubt about it. “Gentle spirit?” See Ubermick’s comment, above. “Effortless diversity?” Someone’s gonna have to explain that one to me. (For contrast, please describe an instance where you’ve witnessed diversity making an effort.)
In any event, the typical kid in this thing expresses himself as you might expect a post-doc at Cal Tech to. In my book, it frequently features kids, but it’s for endurance sports obsessives and know-it-alls.
It’s frequently peopled by kids. Not “primarily a kids’ comic.” Not remotely a kids’ comic.
Prove I’m smarter than Mallett? Nobody’s that smart! Sure, it’s fun to point out his missteps but what I typically critique are his bizarre attitudes. And that has nothing to do with relative intelligence. I mean, how “smart” does a guy have to be to write, “This guy isn’t very nice to old fat people?” It’s not a competition.
No, I‘ve stayed out here to tweak Mallett’s crazed champions. The ones who, like you, are so invested in his saintliness. The ones who’d rather lose a limb than admit that Pastis is right about their hero.
You guys crack me up! Meanwhile, there’s a growing number of commenters who agree with me. I suppose none of them are “normal,” either, right?
The strip is “autobiographical.” Mallett is a triathlete, but recently he’s focused more on swimming and running (in that order) than on biking, and that’s true both in his own life, and in “Frazz.” On his Facebook blog, he’s cited the danger from cars, and their inattentive / aggressive (read: biciyclist-hating) drivers. As a youngster, though, bicycling was his number one.
Do you even know what a pedant is? There’s nothing “pedant[ic]” in saying that Jef Mallett is an insufferable egomaniac who at times doesn’t do his job very well.
Now, explaining shades of meaning of frequently misused words to a guy whose fragile ego won’t permit him to admit he’s wrong, that may be pedantic. And a fool’s errand.
What?! You’re capable of replying to a comment of mine in a way that isn’t a complete hatchet job?
Look, if just ONCE you’d acknowledge that I have a point, things might be different. Instead, it’s a personal attack. Every single time. With a distortion thrown in.
There is no way in hell I’m wrong 100 per cent of the time. Yours is a chicken-shit approach.
Boy, do I ever believe that. Don’t forget to thrown in a baseless, off-topic personal insult as you cock your arm.
We’re all missing out on all kinds of favorite things these days. I’m really gonna miss the Lemonade Shake-Ups at the county fair back home. There, they’re still made with chipped shards from big blocks of crystal-clear ice; lots of sugar and a whole fresh lemon.
When I was a kid, they cost 35 cents. Last one I had cost me five bucks. Worth it.
There’s more to the dining experience than taste, yes. That’s why I give people what they ask for. I think it’s arrogant of hosts to say, “If you’re at my house, you’re having your steak medium rare.” If your guests can’t stand the sight of what you’ve prepared, what good have you done?
Now, in a restaurant, different story. If Anthony Bourdain is to be believed, asking for a steak well done in a restaurant will virtually guarantee you’ll get the worst available cut of meat in the kitchen. I believe him.