In my opinion, The Snagglepuss Chronicles has the best writing in current comic books. Mark Russell writes that pink cool cat as a gay southern playwright in the mid-1950s. It fits like a velvet glove. So go fit this comic book into your stash!
I love the dialog. In issue 3, Snagglepuss is on a talk show, where he neatly stated the difference between television and theater.
Snagglepuss: Television is about creating stars, theater develops actors.
Talk Show Host: And what’s the difference?
Snagglepuss: A star shows people who they’d wish to be, an actor shows them what they are.
In issue 2, a nasty woman from the House Committee on Un-American Activities tries to convince Snagglepuss to write scripts for her about the evil commies about to take over America and we gotta get them and anyone who remotely smells the least bit pinko. Snagglepuss elegantly, politely, and firmly refuses.
Snagglepuss: You ask for my pen, and that I cannot give.
Nasty Woman: Why?
Snagglepuss: Because it’s all I have.
I wiped a tear from my aspiring author eyes at that. I get the feeling I will wipe off a few more. HUAC did not treat writers well.
Huckleberry Hound is also gay in this storyline. Snagglepuss takes that poor, hangdog-sad soul under his wing. I admit I would never have thought Huckleberry would be gay. I can’t tell by looking at him, surprise surprise. A guy at Prism Comics once called me an ally. That was nice of him, but that didn’t give me gaydar.
Except for Porky Pig. C’mon, everyone knows Porky was gay! The rumor is that Porky kept his career because Yosemite Sam kicked down the office door of a homophobic executive who wanted to fire Porky, and Yosemite drew his pistols, and…
Yosemite Sam: Ah hates homophobes! Ah’m the nastiest, worstiest, shoot-em-firstiest bigot basher in the west, east, north, and south! If’n I hear of yuh ever threatenin’ my pal Porky Pig ever again, mah two six-shooters will do mah talkin’ for me! Like this!
BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!!!
The executive’s desk fell into itty-bitty pieces. Yosemite hopped onto the homophobe’s lap and smushed his face onto the homophobe’s nose.
Yosemite Sam: One more thing, you skunk. Mah guns are cartoon guns, so they don’t run outta lead. Lemme show yuh!
BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM!!!
The executive’s chair fell to pieces. Yosemite stomped out of the office. Bugs Bunny stepped in and smirked at the carnage. He spoke to the trembling, white-faced, whimpering homophobe.
Bugs Bunny: Eh, what he said, doc.
P.S. I don’t own any velvet gloves, I just like the sound of that.