They are simply something to meditate on. I read them over looking for something funny. If nothing comes up I survey them again for looking for a single panel of good graphics: the implied cityscape of Curtis' urban habitat, balloon letters that spell out the sound of a cake hitting the ground, the shift in light that causes the characters to turn to silhouettes for just a single panel. There's always something.
I don't know what the word 'Zen' means but that may be the closest thing I can come up with to describe it. A world of wisdom contained within a 2.5 sq/in frame. Tucked inside the least important section of the daily newspaper. And that day's edition itself will be obsolete and out-dated by tomorrows printing. Throw it away and onto the next one.
It's easy to overlook them. A lot of them are stupid and the punchlines are lame. But that's only if you read them as quickly as possible, left to right, bottom to top and then onto the next page. Look them over again though, look over them until you find something to laugh at. I truly believe we must laugh to keep from crying. How else can we be expected to endure the rest of this world?
The blog Garfield minus Garfield (.net, check it out) was so successful it spawned an entire retrospective book of revised Garfield panels. In the introduction Jim Davis admits what has been so obvious all these years but somehow hidden in plain sight: Garfield's owner John is a sad, lonely man. He also happens to own a cat.
Take out one element in an already tiny composition and everything changes. Remove the unnecessary punchline and things turn from cheesy to surreal. Just imagine how beautiful the woods are before Hagar and Eddie emerge into the first frame. I could get lost all day inside there.
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