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B.C.
Gil Thorp, 7/8/10
“Oh, hey,” you are almost certainly saying, “What’s going in Gil Thorp?” (Yes, you are definitely saying this, in your minds, don’t try to deny it to me, I know you too well.) Well, Milford’s star pitcher Slim Chance’s band got the “chance” to open for their alt-country heroes, Backyard Tire Fire (they are a real band who actually exists, and who apparently have spent some extremely ill-conceived product placement money), which gig happened the day before Slim was supposed to start in the team’s opening game of the playdowns, but the team van broke down on the way home, and Slim had to take a cab the last 150 miles, and he arrived just as the third inning was starting, ready to be the hero…
…and he lost, terribly. This is one of the reasons why I like Gil Thorp. It isn’t afraid to have plots that fly in the face of the sort of narrative arcs you’d expect! This is especially the case when such contrarian plotting ends with the Mudlarks having their hopes and dreams ground to dust.
Beetle Bailey, 7/8/10
The soldiers at Camp Swampy have any number of good reasons to hate and loathe Sgt. Snorkel (mostly involving their relentless physical abuse at his hands), but it does seem kind of cruel of them to mock the broken shell of a man that he’s become, thanks to his harrowing food addiction. “Oh, God, a delicious brown blob of some sort, right there on my tie … uh, it doesn’t count if I don’t use my hands, right? Come on, tongue…”
B.C., 7/8/10
There are a lot of puzzling concepts in today’s B.C., but let’s start with the most obvious: the phone, built into the tree. I guess much of the visual humor of the strip comes from putting modern things in ancient settings, but the tree-phone is a really baffling mishmosh. I mean, I get why you have to build it into a natural feature, I suppose, but why do the phone-parts look like they’re from the early 20th century? “Oh, they’re in caveman times, so it would make much more sense to have a phone that’s from 9,900 years in the future rather than 10,000 years in the future.”
Then there’s the question of whose phone-tree this is. The Cute Chick and the Fat Broad (gah, I know their names, their terrible, offensive names) just seem to be casually strolling by it when it rings. In this primitive era, did people not “own” phones per se, but rather just answer the ones that were scattered around the landscape, or, if they were feeling sassy, pick one up and dial a number at random, then start talking dirty to whoever picks up at the other end?
Mark Trail, 7/8/10
In addition to having a mustache and threatening cute animals, our current Mark Trail villain appears to be a dirty communist, or at least that’s my assumption based on his complete inability to understand basic market economics. Sassy only has value as a beloved pet to a lonely, malformed orphan boy; but the baddie’s “What he’s offering may not be enough” implies, wrongly, that there is some kind of market demand for this irritating, mewling pup. Someone is about to be very disappointed by the results of an eBay auction.
Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/8/10
With Toots and Brook’s problems solved by a little TLC and karate, we can at last move on to the next plot, which should be hilarious, as we find out how Rex’s “be a supercilious dick to everyone” bedside manner works out when he has to drop the c-bomb on the mayor. Whether you’re powerful and influential, or have a serious illness, or both, Rex will be a jerk about it, and by “it” I mean “pretty much everything.”
Apartment 3-G, 6/3/10
I’m assuming that Martin and Gabriella are sneaking into 3-G to find and dispose of Roberta’s Chekovian gun, but wouldn’t it be great if Martin has lost all of his money in the recession and the two have been forced to launch a spree of actual breaking and entry? They start with Margo’s apartment — that’s a gimmie, since she gave them a key and all — and then they’ll work their way up to homes where they actually have to break the locks, bickering comically all the while!
Spider-Man, 6/3/10
Some time ago I berated the newspaper Spider-Man strip for just giving up and embracing camp. Now I long for the days when at least I’d have campiness to entertain me. This most recent plot development, in which Sabretooth and Wolverine battle each other endlessly until simultaneously passing out from exhaustion, while Spidey scratches his head like a moron and cracks wise, is some sub-Three Stooges shit.
B.C., 6/3/10
Hey, remember three days ago, when B.C. made a joke with exactly this structure? It was 10 years out of date, but at least you knew what the hell it was supposed to be about. With this one, I’m not sure if we’re supposed to understand that capitalism is a dagger thrust through the heart of humanity, or if it harnesses the opposed forces of love and hate to work together, or what, exactly. I do know, from looking at the two strips next to each other, that no art has been reused; the two identical-looking scenes have been completely redrawn. You have to admire the dedication that shows, I suppose, but I can’t say that the baffling jokes merit the extra work.
B.C., 5/31/10
With Johnny Hart’s grandson Mason Mastroianni firmly at the helm of the strip, at long last it can shake off its lassitude and take principled stands on current issues. For instance, there’s a major energy company whose sins of omission and commission have angered millions of Americans of late, and that company is … Enron? Eh, sure, why not. Logo’s sure easier to draw, right?
Apartment 3-G, 5/31/10
At least one employee of the Mills Gallery has the appropriate attitude for working there (i.e., constant, debilitating mortal terror). “NO, DON’T TALK TOO LOUDLY! SHE CAN HEAR US! SHE CAN ALWAYS HEAR US!”
Family Circus, 5/31/10
Ha ha! It’s another adorable malapropism from little Jeffy! Clearly the word he meant to use is “unemployable.”
Mark Trail, 5/14/10
Even I’m not so heartless as to crack wise about sassy getting hit by a car yesterday. However, now that we know Sassy is STILL ALIVE and about to be taken to the vet by this overalled hero, I do want to hold up for derision Mark’s increasingly callous dismissals of Rusty’s wholly justifiable fears. Could this storyline finally reveal Mark as the unfeeling monster that he is? “Relax, Rusty, she’s probably trying to dig that old rabbit out of a hole! Or digging her own grave, because she’s going to die soon, alone and in pain! One of the two. Ha ha, this horse has a soft nose!”
B.C., 5/14/10
This might seem hard to understand in the setting of the strip, but remember that this is caveman times, and the tiny band of eight or so human characters we see in the strip are the only representatives of H. sapiens on the planet. Britain hasn’t even been invented yet, so pretty much all you have to do to create it is write “British pub” on a rock.
Luann, 5/14/10
“Come on, you don’t plan a thing like that! You just push down obsessive, intrusive thoughts about it and swear to yourself and everyone else that you’ll never do it, until you finally just let yourself get carried away in the moment and do it without protection with someone you’re not really comfortable with! It’s like you don’t know anything about how sex works, Tiffany!”
Hi and Lois, 4/23/10
Comics aren’t just casual fun entertainment; they can also help you grapple with everyday but still painful life dilemmas. For instance, what if your son, who you love very much and who you only want to help succeed in life and be happy, turns out to be a terrible, miserable failure? Worse, what if he’s unable to recognize his own incompetence, and runs to you, his loving, nurturing parent, for the emotional affirmation that he’s learned to expect from you? How do you react? Hi and Lois doesn’t claim to have the answers, but Hi’s frozen, heartbroken expression in the final panel at least assures you that, if you’ve ever found yourself face to embarrassing face with your useless hump of an offspring, you’re not alone.
Dennis the Menace, 4/23/10
Making sex-themed jokes about cartoon kids is a little discomfort-making even for me, but then I’m not the one who used as the punchline for my child-populated comic a Las Vegas marketing slogan carefully constructed to evoke images of binge drinking and strip clubs, am I? Anyway, the most icky thing about this comic is the contrast between how pleased Margaret looks and how angry Dennis is at the thought that the smooching news might get out. Looks like he’s gearing up to be Dennis the emotional menace, am I right?
B.C., 4/23/10
Totally not at all discomfort-making or squicky to me at all is this apparent depiction of one reptile paying another for some kind of emotiono-sexual service. It’s like he’s a dominatrix, but with cuddling? And also he’s a turtle? Anyway, it’s all good clean fun!
Funky Winkerbean, 4/21/10
Funky Winkerbean’s trip to New York featured a few moments of publishing hope for long-suffering victim Les (though surely we’ll see those dreams get squashed later), but we’ve quickly moved back to familiar territory: impotent, misplaced rage. Actually, “rage” is the wrong word: the dialogue seems rage-y enough, but the slouchy body language and numb faces denote a total absence of the passion that is rage’s necessary prerequisite. I stand by the impotence, though.
And the misplacement. There are any number of greedy, amoral morons who can be blamed for our current macroeconomic state of affairs; but, assuming that Funky is maundering about the failure of the Montoni’s franchise in New York to take off, I think it’s unlikely that, even in the best of economies, crappy midwestern pizza would have been a big hit in a city well known for its many well-established and much-loved pizza vendors. It’s not like Goldman Sachs was nefariously creating synthetic CDOs based on pizza futures and then betting against them.
Beetle Bailey, 4/21/10
Towards the end of Tony Kushner’s Angels in America, God is briefly depicted as an enormous flaming aleph, the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet. The God of Beetle Bailey is much less impressive, consisting merely of the tiny and non-fiery Name of the strip’s creator. Today, God is attempting to make Beetle sound like someone you might actually want to go on a date with, with mixed results.
Mark Trail, 4/21/10
From my long and dedicated observation of the fauna in this strip, I’ve learned that when a senator starts emitting visible sweatballs, he is on the verge of a heart attack. This is a good illustration of the moral difference between our two rival lawmakers: Senator Good Senator only suffered a cardiac event after engaging in righteous fisticuffs with some longhair, while Senator Bad Senator’s heart is going south as soon as he realizes that arrest and/or punching might be in his future.
B.C., 4/21/10
Ha ha! The bird is afraid of being killed and eaten, but the snake thinks that the bird is afraid of being sexually assaulted!
Marmaduke, 4/21/10
Yeah, so, uh, this happened. Let’s never speak of it again, shall we?