Pearls Before Swine by Stephan Pastis for September 26, 2024

The big difference being that the magician comes back in a minute.

Beautiful.

If a magician makes a mistake, he might be gone.

Being in somebody’s heart is nice, but I’d rather not disappear in the first place.

Pig, look in the pork and frozen food section

Oh, wise pig on the hill…

Pig one upped the wise one!

Pig will win AGT next year.

Pig transcends himself!

There must be some autobiography behind this one…my heart goes out…

I remember my Grandma hugging me, but I wish she could do it in person. Even though a 120 year old might not be that strong anymore.

Pig has been giving gentle advice for years. Has Steph considered using him as a stand-in when the Wise A$$ is on vacation? Wise Pig on the Hill has a certain ring about it.

I have something in my eye…

Sometimes even a Wise A$$ can be enlightened. {cartoon censor struck :) }

I believe Stephan has a typo. It would make LOTS more sense to say " IT’S ITS own form of magic."

This is the 2nd Pastis I have read that waxes philosophical about death. I’m thinking a death in the family.

Magicians don’t really disappear. It’s just a trick.

I’m not crying, you’re crying.

“Sometimes there is nothing I can add”. And that is wisdom itself.

they are somewhere else alright. six feet under, feeding the worms, or in an urn on the mantle would be the best case. shallow unmarked graves in the woods are nice too, I guess.

That’s why he’s called “the wise a**!” Dan aka…ps ‘cause he knows what’s what…

He led the way to wisdom and Pig did the traveling himself.

The timing of this particular strip is both ironic and personal for me. Thirty years ago today, one of my closest friends died of brain cancer, She was a brilliant artist—with all that goes with that—-and only 36 years old. RIP Lisa.

recommending “Shadowlands” (1993)

all our autobiographies

I know you lost your pup a few years ago., I hope you didn’t loose anyone else. I’m very sorry if you did.

This one is a keeper

My heart is getting very crowded.

No, they’re just gone. Accept it.

It means that now they’re ALWAYS with you.

Pig is the real smartest person in Pearls.

Pig you have brought tears to my eyes. So touching

Sometimes, Pig, you are very wise.

Except that we do actually live on for eternity. The location is binary.

One is truly wise when one can learn from one who is less wise.

Pig is the purest soul.

Sometimes indeed. Strength to all that have lost and/or are losing.

Did he climb that ridiculously steep hill just to show the Wise A$$ how clever he is?

Awww. Pig can sometimes bring out the soft heart in anybody.

My heart to you

Crying

Never cared much for that “they live on in our hearts” idea, but I guess if that’s all you got, get all the comfort you can from it.

unbelievable, an entire comments section with no trolls and no a** is a crack in the universe, and it is beautiful.

Love can indeed be magic. I wish more people realized that.

This one hits too close to home … great reason for a Friday Night Pig Brains fry.

my question is, how does the wise guy eat? door dash?? and is that “mountain” just a big pile of… y’know…

Pastis has been letting his softer, gentler side show recently. I wonder about the autobiographical nature of the strips, too. Wishing Stephan—and all those who grieve the loss of someone dear to them—peace.

Pig is the real wise one here. So sweet.

Pig, you’re the one who should stay on that hill.

So beautiful

Beautiful.

Oh Stephan! You must have lost someone precious. Sending you lots of comforting energy. If you can, please elaborate for your many fans who care about you. And Pig has summed it up perfectly today.

Pig would not do well in the analogy section of the SAT.

Wow, Pig. Just…wow. :D

Well, it was kind of sweet!

Choked me up. well done sir.

I love Pig and I’m so sorry for your loss ♥♥ {{HUGS}}

Thanks, Stephan(from another math prof…)

Do not stand by my grave, and weep.

I am not there, I do not sleep-

I am the thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints in snow

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning’s hush,

I am the swift up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight,

I am the soft starshine at night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry-I am not there. I did not die.