Monty (10/28/09)

While I understand the urge to munch, especially around Halloween, I don’t think I could be convinced to eat soybean molasses chews unless I was trapped in a bunker with no other source of food. Then again, everyone has different tastes. I remember my grandmother keeping a giant jar of molasses in her kitchen. She would pour a healthy amount of the stuff onto a plate and then sop it up with bread. I tried molasses once, out of curiosity, which was enough for me to know that it wasn’t my cup of tea. And even though I find soybeans to be a delightful snack, I’m sure their light, nutty flavor would be completely overwhelmed by even the tiniest hint of molasses.

Monty (7/9/09)

Once I got through laughing at today’s Monty (and after remembering how much I hated down pillows, with their thousands of pointy feathers), I began to realize how many truly bizarre things are rendered in this strip. The most obvious is the fact that a man is sharing his bed with a pet bird. There’s really no good explanation for something like that. I’m also bugged by the sunglasses that adorn the man’s head, even in sleep, but I’m willing to let that pass. What I can’t get over, however, is the size of this bird’s head, which proves to be freakishly large when shown next to his bestubbled master. I’m not sure what our fine feathered friend eats on a regular basis, but I’m willing to bet it’s not run-of-the-mill birdseed.

Monty (6/28/09)

One of the central tenets of any martial art is that, no matter how skilled you become, there will always be someone stronger, faster, smarter and more proficient. We all learn from a master, who in turn learns from another master. It’s the sort of teaching that encourages humility in everyone, from the simple sailor aboard his simple sailboat to the admiral aboard his mighty battleship. Even Godzilla, with his fierce temper and Tokyo-destroying ways would do well not to get too cocky lest a monsoon swoop him out to sea.

Monty (5/31/09)

I once tried haiku…
Verse filled a spiral notebook…
Which sits in my drawer.

Monty (5/23/09)

Tomorrow marks the latest installment of Chicago’s annual Bike the Drive event, which steers cars away from Lake Shore Drive and opens up the scenic expressway to cyclists of all ages. The event kicks off at 5:30 am (which is a little early for me) and continues until 10:00 am. During that time, cyclists are free to pedal over automotive territory without seeing so much as a glimpse of a motor vehicle. I’ve completed the ride twice and am planning to go again tomorrow. It’s a liberating experience that reaches its peak for me as I ride over the bridge that covers the joining of the Chicago River on the east with Lake Michigan on the west. Awesome.

Monty (5/12/09)

The spoiled child is a classic character in comedy (see Üter from The Simpsons) but rarely does he reach the level of maniacal self-absorption that we see in today’s Monty. The bulging eyes and frozen smile of this sadistic, cat hunting child are disturbing, to say the least. The boy’s expression in panel one suggests creepy glee, while his demeanor in panel two reveals an obsessiveness that borders on that of Captain Ahab. I’m not sure what to make of panel three, though, in which the bratty child appears to be nothing more than a comatose version of the Maytag repairman.

Monty (5/4/09)

I suppose this qualifies as one of those instances in which the cartoonist asks the reader to imagine a world beyond the boundaries of the strip’s panels. That must be the case since this fortune teller’s digs seem anything but opulent. Although her customer seems impressed, all I see in these panels is a small table, a crystal ball and an empty, light brown wall. Maybe this woman is using the power of suggestion to trick her customer into thinking he’s visiting the Taj Mahal when what he’s really doing is crouching in a rickety chair on the first floor of a single room occupancy hotel. Who knows, maybe she’ll use that same power of suggestion to unload some of those biodiesel-fueled electric generators she’s talking up in panel four.