Dale Gribble, American Archetype

You're Gonna Need that Pocket Sand

Many were caught by surprise last week when, on August 8th, the news came out that Johnny Hardwick, best known as the voice actor for Dale Gribble in the hit animated series King of the Hill, had passed away at the age of 64. For many King of the Hill fans, this was an outright tragedy, especially with the news that Mike Judge was considering bringing the series back for a revival on Hulu. While sequels, reboots, and revivals have a poor track record in American television, with Twin Peaks being the only notable standout, many were still looking forward to a return to Arlen, Texas.

As a native Texan and as someone who grew up watching reruns of the show at my grandmother’s as a teenager, King of the Hill feels more and more like a home away from home. You know people like Peggy, you have cousins who remind you of Bobby, and Khan was just as much a real person as John Redcorn — although Mr. Redcorn was more likely to work at the casino across the state line than anything else. The show is near and dear to my heart. It is something that fellow parishioners and I reference laughingly when washing dishes after our post-liturgical meal. To see one of the most well-remembered characters lose his voice actor is the death of that character, and today, I want to offer a eulogy of sorts to Dale Gribble.

For those who don’t know, Dale Gribble was the archetype of a man who was a prepper. Almost like a conspiracy theorist Cliff Clavin, Dale was a man with an answer to everything and had a conspiratorial reference for why things were the way they were. He would have been an excellent “schizoposter” on Twitter, or someone who listened to both Art Bell and Alex Jones to get the best take on things. Dale would assume that the world was out to get him, all the while humorously oblivious to the fact that his son Joseph was not his own but rather the product of an affair.

Nevertheless, Dale remained stubbornly loyal both to his ideals and to those who had hurt him in the past; a defender of the honor of his friends and his family, a fisherman who had no problem with being politically incorrect. Odds are you know a Dale Gribble in your life, right down to missing the point of his own “spirit quest.” Dale, or “Rusty Shackleford” if you prefer, was someone who embodied a lot of the American Right of a certain Baby Boomer, Generation X persuasion: highly distrustful of government, he gave a fake name and could not stand the IRS, while he loved his friends, country, beer, and guns. He may have been a cartoon character, sure, but Dale Gribble at the end of the day hit at the American Id of conservative and libertarian thought in America.

The Id, as per Freud, are the unconscious desires, our instincts. Dale Gribble being the American Id shows a desire for loyalty, love, and the capability to be the master of the craft. From “personally taste-testing every single insecticide” to simply falling for his personal vices while standing up for what he believed was right, Dale was the flyover conservative of yesteryear. If the Brits have their loveable “Norf FC” meme, Americans have their Texan “Dale Gribble”:

Love Me Guns
Love Me Friends
Love Me Beer
Hate the Government

“She-she-sshhaa”

Nevertheless, this American Political Id, while lambasted in a lot of ways for humorous purposes, illustrates a man capable of putting his mind to something and mastering it, such as various languages, radio broadcasting, or being a good role model for his family. Yet at the same time, for all the projects, schemes, and friendships that a Dale might get into, even if he tries to protect himself with a fake name or backstory to throw off suspicion, the obvious never really seems to hit him before he comes up with his own explanation that’s even further from reality. The same seems to emerge with the conservatives of yesteryear: that there can be all sorts of reasons for our ongoing entropic phenomena to be happening, but it will be for any reason but the obvious, because that would be “too obvious.”

Dale excelled in the places, of course, that mattered, or at least would matter to any family man: the ability to connect with Joseph, going above and beyond for those that he shot the shit with, the works. Yet it is that naïveté that makes the Dale Gribbles of America, and in the broader Western culture, uniquely vulnerable. His wife, who had cheated on him for years, said throughout the series that it was remarkably easy to fool him, because once he trusted someone, he never thought that they would betray him or lie to him. I think we can see that in our own political elites and in their constituents who get screwed over time and time again, trusting in a system that they hold in high regard only to see their civic virtues desacralized for their destruction and replacement.

Dale Gribble, much like other characters such as Ken (played by Ryan Gosling of literally me fame), has been made into a right-wing figure. Many have taken Dale’s conspiratorial wisdom, prepping, firearm proficiency, and trap-making as their own mascot for themselves, just as much as Ike Eisenhower enjoyed High Noon despite the film’s explicitly communist and left-leaning undertones. Some of you might find it silly that I’m even writing about Dale, eulogizing a fictional character from some animated show, and perhaps you’re right. However, Dale reminds me of a good-hearted man at my Church, who in his old age takes care of an adoptive daughter from a bad upbringing. He knows of just about every conspiracy theory in the book, as well as websites and Telegram pages that I visit on occasion.

Dale Gribble is gone, and to dust he shall return, but perhaps a little bit of that dust will be the pocket sand you take with you wherever you go.