You hear that? Shall I repeat it again? Blondie has been around since September of 1930.
This seventy-eight-year-old strip just keeps on going. It goes...and goes...and goes...and nothing in it ever really changes. Oh, sure, Dagwood has graduated from an early morning dash for the bus to an early morning dash to the carpool. Blondie has actually (gasp) started working, albeit in a suitably womanly job.* Generally, however, Blondie's world just...exists.
In this particular strip, Dagwood and his clone son Alexander indulge in what may be the most pointless conversation ever. The results are actually marginally funnier than is usual in Blondie strips, probably not intentionally. The way Dagwood parrots everything Alexander says and then has no idea why his son is being mildly wry at him is almost Chaucerian. Thus:
*I have an oddly vivid memory of the 1991 strip in which Blondie informed her husband that she was going to get a job. Dagwood hopped up and down, screaming that no wife of his would ever work...until he realised that Blondie's catering equalled more giant sandwiches for Dagwood. He's been okay with the situation ever since. What an enlightened man he is. You go, Dagwood.
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