So Many Characters So Pretty in Pink. John Hughes, May You R.I.P
THE MORNING LINE:
The early a.m. roundup of today's 'toons, from the fleshy to the flashy...
I know, I knowww. I just HAD to go and bring it up yesterday. Apologies, because in today's strips, it seems most everyone's having trouble keeping their togs on.
Yesterday, responding to the suggestive Boudoir-Noir disrobing in "Judge Parker," I asked everyone in Riffster Land when the last time was that they saw such sultry shedding of the garments, "under-" and othewise. Today, folks are losing their shirts -- and not just metaphorically.
Truth be told, I'm a wee bit surprised this "Pearls" stripped -- er, slipped -- past the Eagle-Eyed Post Censors. Oh, not that a little PG-13 cartoonitude will do any harm -- at least nothing deeply, psychically scarring for life. Just glad "Pearls" ran outta panels before Stephan Pastis ventured, irretrievably, into The Full Borat. And even then, I'm putting aside my a.m. flapjacks for a few minutes, till my wounded eyes stop burning.
As for return culprit, I'm getting a little worried about artist Eduardo Barreto here. Either one of two things must be occurring: (1) "Team Parker," in an effort to stanch any cancellations, is amping up the hot-in-herre factor (as if William Hurt is about to "break glass" to get to Kathleen Turner); or (2) Eddie Barreto has been a lee-tle too isolated at the drawing board, devoid of warmblooded companionship. For everyone's sake, I hope it's only the latter -- and that Barreto remedies the sitch right quick.
Then there's the Socially Acceptable Degree of Topless Savoir-Faire in "Big Nate." Why, shades of shirtless Sean "Spicoli" Penn in "Fast Times" even come to mind -- which means yes, I admit that I remember the '80s, mullets and all. And I've got a second confession: I attended the actual "Ridgemont High" that the film and book were based on, and yes, I still occasionally wake up in cold sweats, fearful that finals are upon me and that Mr. Hand has just entered my abode, ready to lay down some bogus rules. In fact, again I must set aside my morning flapjacks yet again till the flashbacks subside, dude.
Speaking of troubling sights, Jon's look today deeply troubles me. Not that he's got the bizarro 'do, as much. No, it's more than he reminds me of somebody with this look. Lessee, lessee -- "Google" images, thankyouverymuch -- and YES! Jon summons thoughts of Boy George from his Culture Club days. And if THAT isn't an '80s flashback to fear, I don't know what it is.
Go to a happy place, gooo to a happy place. Ah, yes, the good '80s. Think of Ducky and Ferris and Bender and Jake and Del and, of course, Mr. Rooney. Thank you, John Hughes -- the man that imdb.com today is calling "the bard of teen angst." Through all those leg warmers and shoulder pads and soft-focus close-ups, you made the decade a bit goofier, a bit warmer, a bit more bearable.
Here's to you, John Hughes. May you R.I.P., and this Riffster celebrates your cinematic legacy the most feel-good way I know how. Mr. Hughes, this "Twist and Shout" is for you.
The Reliable Source
| August 7, 2009; 7:45 AM ET
Categories: The Comic Strip, The Morning Line
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