Meanwhile In The Archie Newspaper Comic Strip, Which Exists


There’s an Archie comic strip. It doesn’t showcase the parts of the Archie franchise that interested the young me, which would be when the did a side-universe adventure where they were all superheroes or Swinging Sixties Spies or robots in the future or stuff. It’s just the ordinary old universe where they’re teens in high school and I guess that’s OK. The comic strip’s been running since 1947, with the current offerings written and illustrated by Craig Boldman and Henry Scarpelli. Boldman stopped writing the strip in 2011, and Scarpelli died in 2010, so as you might figure the strip’s lost a certain timeliness, so far as that exists in the Archie plain-vanilla universe. Mostly they’ve just printed reruns. But occasionally they update an old strip and here’s today’s.

'What would you do in the event of a zombie apocalypse', Miss Grundy asks her students, because that is totally a thing that would naturally come up in class. Jughead figures he's got a stack of comic books ready in case the cable goes out.
Henry Scarpelli and Craig Boldman’s Archie from the 24th of October, 2016, and — just maybe — perhaps — a rewritten version of something that appeared maybe sometime around late 1999? If that doesn’t sound like a crazy idea? Oh, man, I know you’re looking to me like the spikey-haired guy sitting behind Jughead in the last panel there, aren’t you? Have I said too much? Also, like, what class does Miss Grundy teach that preparing for a zombie apocalypse is part of the curriculum?

If you gave me 2,000 years to guess I couldn’t say what possible upcoming future maybe-disaster Miss Grundy might have originally asked her students about. But I am delighted by this. Some poor soul at Creators.com who never asked for this job but knew how to use the Generic Comic Strip Word Balloon font in Photoshop thought hard about the best “plausibly imminent disaster people should maybe be ready for” and picked out “zombie apocalypse”. It’s delightful.

And yes, I know, the Archie comic books have a side universe where Riverdale’s been hit by the Zombie Apocalypse and I suppose that’s probably fun if you like parts of zombie apocalypses that aren’t just The Walking Dead pinball machine. Haven’t got to it myself.

Anyway, over on my mathematics blog I talk about other comic strips. No zombies, no Archie, but I do get to talk about the Law of Cosines.

Another Blog, Meanwhile Index

The Another Blog, Meanwhile index rose four points over the day’s trading and is feeling pretty darned good overall. Oh, they admit, it’s not as good as it could be, with numbers like 102 or 104 or even 152 out there. But when you consider the alternative was something like 97? Well! So most everyone’s pretty happy over here on the trading floor.

101

Wizardless


I want to talk a little about playing pinball lately, and I know not everybody is even aware you can play pinball lately, what with it not being 1978 anymore, so let me bring folks up to speed. In the old days pinball machines were relatively sedate affairs: the backglass and playfield art would be a picture of, oh, whatever, wizards in space, or boaters being tormented by Neptune, or the background characters of Mary Worth singing. On the table there’d be a bunch of bumpers, which are the mushroom-shaped things you’d think would be called kickers that kick the ball around; and a pair of kickers, which are the triangular things above the flippers that you’d think would be called bumpers; and the flippers, which are just flippers; and a bunch of drop targets, which are the things you aim the ball at and that fall down when you hit them. And the rule set was pretty straightforward: the targets would be themed to either sets of playing cards or else pool balls, and you would try to knock them all down, and if you managed that, they popped back up and you try to knock them down again.

Then someone went and invented computers, and put them in pinball machines, and they also added ramps just too late for the people who made the Evel Kneivel pinball machine, and it all got complicated because the rules could change, giving you, like, eight seconds to shoot the world’s steepest, most inaccessible ramp ever, in exchange for 2.25 billion points. With scores that enormous being thrown around, of course, they had to get corporate sponsorship for their themes and so wizards playing 9-ball in a baseball park wouldn’t cut it anymore. These days a pinball machine is themed to a popular movie/TV show franchise, a comic book superhero, or a band, which is why pinball magnate Gary Stern has been polishing his Kiss Meets The Phantom Of The Park reboot script for years.

I should say that while pinball scores got kind of out of control back there in the 90s there’ve been efforts to rein them back in, so that a normal good score is only like tens of millions anymore. Some machines have been pretty serious about reducing the score, though: the current world record for The Wizard of Oz pinball is 4, although a guy playing in the Kentucky state championships this year has a new strategy he hypothesizes will let him score 6 or, if the table is generous about giving extra balls, maybe even 7. He’s daft.

Anyway, a couple weeks ago, I had a really good game of The Walking Dead, a pinball machine of such fantastic complexity that nobody knows what all the rules are. The leading theory is that there’s actually just a seed program inside that develops new rules on the fly, so that every time someone works out “OK, if I shoot the ramp three times something good happens”, it’ll suddenly change to, say, “you have to shoot the ramp four times after hitting the Creepy Zombie in the middle twice and identify which presidents George Clinton was vice-president for and maybe slip an extra quarter in the coin slot if you know what’s good for you”. But that one time, good grief, but I was hitting everything and starting modes that nobody even knew existed. I put together a score that was about what I would expect if you added together all my Walking Dead games for an eight-month period and put it together into one game.

So. The next league night, when we play for actual competitive points, I knew I was going to flop badly and yes, it happened. On the table Tales of the Arabian Nights I put up a score of 289,180, and trust me, your pinball friends are torn between laughing and thinking with horror of what if it happened to them. Arabian Nights dates to when scores were just starting to get out of hand, so it could have a theme as uncommercial as legends that have enchanted people for centuries, but still. People who walk past it without stopping to play routinely score 600,000, and people who put coins into other machines at the pinball venue — including the change machine or the machine selling gumballs — will often get a million points from Arabian Nights.

I didn’t just flop; I flopped epochally, like if the “Agony of Defeat” guy didn’t just stumble, but also burst into flames and smashed into Evel Kneivel’s rocket-sled on its way to draining. I honestly feel accomplished, and all set for the state championships this weekend.