Marty Moon: The Straw That Stirs the Milford Drink

Today’s strip just serves to bring the glaring plot holes, inconsistencies and missed opportunities into stark relief, not unlike Marty’s face in P2.  Without belaboring the obvious – oh, who am I kidding? Let’s belabor the obvious:

1. If an Aagard scores 26 points and there’s no one there to report on it, does it make a sound? Last winter’s saga of Aaron and his opioid-addicted mother ended with his transfer into the protective custody of the Hiatt-Brown family. Rubin brought Aaron back this season, but Big Ken Brown is no longer around to make things happen. Couldn’t those loose ends have been tied up in a panel?
2. Nice use of parallel drinking by the not-broadcasting broadcasters, one with hooch, the other with Yoo-Hoo (or does that just say “Poo”?). The glaring sign behind Marty’s head must be meant to offer a contrast to his apparent sour mood. It also offers a nice segue into a song parody but I fear those days are behind me. The idea that WDIG can’t or won’t run games without Marty to call them borders on the absurd. Absurd doesn’t begin to describe the Milford Pirate Network’s approach to the games. If they’d been up front about why they popped up then played it straight, they’d still be on the air and no one would’ve cared that there was no coverage from Marty and WDIG. But noooo, MPN based its whole schtick on taunting Marty, so no Marty, no MPN. For that matter…
3. … no Marty, no Gil to antagonize or be antagonized by Marty. Hence Gil’s call on Pocket Square Sporting Radio Station Manager to no doubt try to get Marty back on the air. As with his meeting with Marty, Gil’s on neutral ground where drinks are involved but this time it’s only coffee (unless Gil’s secretly making it Irish).

If all this is a pivot towards turning this strip from Gil Thorp into Marty Moon, I could be persuaded to stick around. The travails of a drunken shock jock looking to redeem himself to unwitting victims of his shock doesn’t cover new ground but it has potential.

late metapost: Over lunch I came across this article about Latinos attempting to assimilate in the American South. No one in the story is Puerto Rican, but it touches on an angle Rubin has chosen not to pursue to much extent in this arc.

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Pining for the fjords? No, just for some actual sports action

Oh look, Pirate Boy Levin finally got his puffy shirt, and just as Seinfeld was a show about nothing, this has become a plot about nothing.

It’s just become a mockery on so many levels it’s ceased to even be funny. The whole idea of the alternative broadcast was to compete with the WDIG broadcast and to protest Marty’s culturally insensitive references to Jorge Padilla via occasional outbursts. The outbursts haven’t been protests so much as snark; only Pirate Boy has even brought up the Pirate Network’s reason for being. And competitive? There’s been zero effort to make this anything but a bunch of goofy, childish antics. “Sportsball” is what people who are contemptuous of sports (and the people who play them) call sports. By playing up this angle, Pirate Boy & co. are as disrespectful to Jorge in their own way as Marty has been in his.

I dunno. Maybe I was expecting MPN to play the games a little straighter, showing some sensitivity to the Padillas’ situation and calling Marty out for his lack of same. Maybe Pirate Boy will hit Marty with that stick on Monday, but I’m not holding my breath.

MPN improves its image

Well I have to say I like the hot chick in the MPN shirt way better then the clown in the pirate hat with his parrot. Hey I’ll even go to games to see her instead of Mister Pirate. Heck with staying home on Youtube. But how the hell are they listening to Marty that closely that they can hear his mistakes?? I’ve sat next to broadcasters before (High School Cube mostly ) and you can hear them, but its not like you really Listen to them with the supposed roar of the crowd. So again we have one good thing and one bad thing. If its good drawing its nonsense dialogue. If its good dialogue its shitty artwork.

How they got the logoed shirts is somewhat a mystery but its possible these days with the internet and ordering obscure stuff from obscure websites. My fantasy baseball teams name  is the Flying Tigers and I have a logo And a t-shirt with a design on it that I wear proudly during baseball season.

Back to the artwork — what the hell is that guy doing with his arms up to Martys left? Starting a wave? And who runs like that in basketball? Looks like a fuckin track meet. # 13 is looking the other way and NOT RUNNING. No wonder Marty cant concentrate – he isnt sure what sport he’s announcing anymore. Of course I’d have other issues :)

 

 

Clowntime Is Over

I really feel for Paloma Padilla (remember her?): what started out as an indignant response to Marty’s callous, bigoted attitude toward her brother, her fellow Puerto Ricans, and their plight turned, in the hands of her erstwhile friend Karina and the horrible, nebbishy stereotype Duncan Levin, into a clown show. Worse still, the Milford kids – from the Dollanganger family in the Goshen stands to the mullet with the bad knockoff Joy Division t-shirt on his Dove Bar laptop at home – are lapping it up. Where’s that Al-Jo Ames when you need her (and how dated does that last hyperlinked strip look now)?

At this point I keep hoping against hope for any one of the following, in no particular order:

1. MPN streams another Milford game, preferably the girls’ game, and plays it straighter than this. Can’t happen: mostly immature MHS kids can’t not be goofs.
2. Los Morenos rejects WDIG and sponsors MPN. It’s possible: Dr. Pearl would love the revenue.
3. Marty gets fired. Never in a million years: Marty is a permanent landmark on the Milford landscape, the eternal Iago to Gil’s Othello.

Musical inspiration for today’s post:

 

Marty Moon: Insulting More Than Just Latinos

This arc turned from “Let’s empathize with the Puerto Rican kids who’ve been displaced from their homes by a natural disaster” to “Hey, let’s put on a show!” so fast, it’s made my neck snap. All I’m left with is a sense of wonder.

I wonder if Google Alphabet stock has plummeted since Rubin’s name-dropped YouTube Live in the past two strips. I wonder if The Milford Pirate Network has the requisite number of subscribers to allow it to use YouTube’s live streaming via mobile functionality. I wonder if Marty’s mike is hot. (The lightning bolt word balloon would lead me to believe so.) I wonder if this will be Marty’s Lonesome Rhodes moment: the moment when the Milford student body, Dr. Pearl, and WDIG’s listeners decide that while insulting Latinos is okay, insulting Milford students’ intelligence crosses the line. Finally, I wonder if anyone will comment on this post.

 

Which Came First, The Chicken or the Basketball?

Awrright, Moon, where’s your hall pass?

Now I’ve seen everything. Since WHEN did WDIG suddenly get concerned about decency and taste? Aren’t we out of character here, given the nature of the radio station? And who is this guy that’s telling Marty that he crossed one line too many? The husband of Sister Mary Elephant? Mr. Weatherbee’s second cousin, twice removed? Is he the equivalent of Dr. Pearl at Milford High School? “Did you hear ol’ Moon got sent down to the principal’s office? He got caught chuggin’ spit wads at the sound board.” Gang, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.

“And furthermore, Coach T is a wienie and needs to get a life!!!!!!!!!! His wife is a second-rate basketball coach whose team shows up every other month—”

“We interrupt this broadcast so that we might bring you “Art Blakey and his Jazz Messengers, Live at Minton’s Playhouse”.

Seen spray-painted on the outside wall of a wing of Milford High School:

“Clapton is God!!!!!!!!”

Seen just below:

“So is Marty!!!!!!!!”

If ya wind up in the ICU of Milford General Hospital because ya smeared too much Tex-Mex on your barbecued iguana and ya forgot to wash it down with a cold Mr. Pibb, ya might be a redneck.

Now, not only has WDIG inexplicably taken the high road (wash your mouth out with soap, Marty), MARTY NOW HAS COMPETITION. A pirate trying to be Rodney Dangerfield who is the spitting image of Buddy Holly (or Ernie Douglas, hey, gang, I won’t pull teeth in this one). Whoa, Marty, not only did the zombies tail your ass to Goshen to eat your flesh, THEY WANT YOUR JOB ALSO. Idaknow, Marty, aside from the fact that you may wind up in the Milford General Hospital being roommates with the careless redneck who ate one barbecued iguana too many and forgot his Rolaids you also got bills to pay. Are you up to the task? I would have stomped YES in times past but since that paddling in the principal’s office by Anonymous Cameo Dude Who Just Happens To Be The Husband of Sister Mary Elephant In Case Anybody Starts Snooping And Wondering How The Hell He Made It On The Set, I am left with more questions than answers. Marty about to get upstaged by a ragtag teenage unit bent on going neck-and-neck with him to call the game fairly and with malice towards none? Pass that Rolaids, please. Hey, I’ll admit his comedy routine might need some brushing up(“Milford PIRATE Network, Goshen, ya know, Jolly Roger on my hat, I look like Judge Reinhold from Fast Times at Ridgemont High? That’s a funny, Goshen”). He might go over their heads in Goshen(we’re talking a Mudlark opponent, they’re trained to roll over and be outclassed, not digest comedy schtick) with humor involving  pumped basketballs vs. stuffed basketballs, but in the end, the clock is ticking on you, Marty. Will the pendulum swing back?

Gang, I’m still in shell-shock over Marty Moon doing his best imitation of Bart Simpson. I thought being chewed out by the principal was reserved for Milford Elementary. Guess not. Ah, but not to worry, music ALWAYS solves my life’s conundrums. C’mon, you ’70’s crowd, yeah, you know who you are, join me in Brownsville Station’s “Smokin’ in the Boys Room”, Marty Moon style(anybody remember those Roy Orbison glasses that Cub Koda, the lead singer, used to wear? Wouldn’t they look sexy on Dr. Pearl?)

Hey, how’s it goin’ out in Mudlarkland? You ever have one of them days where it seems like EVERYBODY’S getting on your case from the Director at WDIG on down to the student body at Milford High School? Well, ya know I used to have ’em just about all the time. And this is what me and Anonymous Calculus Dude and the rest of the WDIG staff did to get out of ’em.

Sittin in the sound booth, tearing down ol’ Gil

Watching him coach, well, y’know that ain’t a thrill

The Noon tone rings, ya know that’s my cue

I’m gonna meet the staff at stall #2

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Mr. Director, doncha fill me

up with your rules

But everybody knows that smokin’ at the ‘DIG ain’t cool.

Looked out the studio, the coast was clear

Checked in the storage closet, ain’t nobody here

We put a hold on the telephone calls

To get caught at The ‘DIG would be the death of us all

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Mr. Director, doncha fill me

up with your rules

But everybody knows that smokin’ at the ‘DIG ain’t cool

I get assigned to read farm yield reports.

Oh, God, I mean to tell ya, I got bored

Mr. Director was looking for me all around

Two hours later, ya know where I was found

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Tokin’ in the men’s room

Mr. Director, don’t lecture me

UP YOURS with the rules

Cuz everybody knows that Marty Moon is really cool

Today’s Woman’s History Month entry is Bilinda Butcher, guitarist/vocalist for the group My Bloody Valentine. Though the group itself was sometimes beset with strife, make no mistake, her contributions and her talent kept the group on the forefront of the rock music world. MBV was part of a movement called shoegazing that involved obscure lyrics, guitar distortions that were wrapped up in a surreal atmosphere, basically music you would hear if you were dreaming. They made it work and she was a BIG part of it. Her haunting crooning and her Kate Bush persona propelled the music to great heights, not to mention her stellar and timely guitar-playing. MBV’s album, “Loveless” is on Rolling Stone’s 500 Greatest Albums of all time and “Isn’t Anything” is on many “1000 Albums Ya Gotta Hear” lists from SEVERAL influential publications. The Edge, from U2, is a HUGE fan of their music. Again, she’s a BIG part of that.

Take her away, gang. I’ll be giving comedy pointers to Buddy/Ernie. We should have a comedy routine ready by tipoff.

Look Out Marty, ‘Cause I’m Using Technology

As has been pointed out in yesterday’s comments, this arc is becoming less and less about two Puerto Rican high schoolers’ adjustments to life post-Hurricane Maria and more and more about how the people around them react to them.  Ernie from My Three Sons Duncan and Karina are getting more character development than Jorge and Paloma at this point. Duncan is suddenly becoming a broadcaster and Karina is growing a ginormous man hand. I’m calling recycled art on that paw.

Meanwhile Marty finally gets confronted by someone at WDIG other than the sales guy. Is he the station manager or somebody else in a position of authority over Marty? If so, why is he just now calling Marty out about his mouth when he’s been doing his derogatory schtick for several games now? And why would Marty assume (a) he has any listeners (b) those listeners love him (c) that objecting to his schtick is somehow “P.C.”?

I still maintain that if Milford was anything other than 1959 with cell phones, Marty would have been buried in a tweetstorm as soon as he overpronounced Jorge’s name during the game after Karina and Duncan visited him and would’ve been at least suspended and more than likely fired.  Whatevs; I’m looking forward to the first installment of Mudlark hoops starring Duncan Levin, livestreamed over tin cans and sponsored by Los Morenos (who boycotted WDIG).

I had to scrap my first draft title for today’s post because I used it once already. Here’s the inspiration for its replacement:

Goodnight Moon*

Goodnight room
Goodnight Moon
Goodnight fans shouting over the Moon
Goodnight light
And the racist goon
Goodnight game
“Goodnight”? Lame
Goodnight Padillas
Oh, goodnight? See ya!
Goodnight job
And goodnight slob
Goodnight little house
And goodnight souse
Goodnight Gil
And goodnight (W)DIG
Goodnight nobody
Goodnight pig
And goodnight to your shot at another gig
Goodnight scars
Goodnight hair
Good night Mudlarks everywhere

*apologies M. W. Brown