The current B.C. management seems perversely intent on taking the gimmick essentially designed for clip art reuse — “character reads joke out of a book sitting on a rock” — and actually put some effort into it. Should the Wiley’s Dictionary rock be moved down by the seashore, so B.C./Thor/maybe other blond caveman whose name I don’t know can enjoy the pleasant breezes through the beach grass along with his terrible four-word joke? Sure, why not!
Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/8/12
What does it take to turn Rex’s omnipresent supercilious scowl into an extremely restrained smile? His inferiors recognizing that he deserves free stuff, of course! I’m pretty sure he doesn’t really care about marine mammals one way or the other, but I assume he’ll still sit there in the stands, watching the orca-frolic, thinking “Yes, this … this is my due.”
Apartment 3-G, 12/8/12
Wow, so Greg’s been chosen to play James Bond, one of the most famous and high-profile roles in all of entertainment, and Margo hadn’t heard anything about it? He must have a terrible publicist.
Beetle Bailey, 11/19/12
I am super excited about being back in the saddle for Thanksgiving Week! What was once a celebration of getting through the year without starving to death has become another opportunity for America to indulge its bottomless appetites, so what better way to get psyched for it than to contemplate Sarge’s insatiable needs, for food, for love for … something. Attracted by the odor of the garbage that’s all over Beetle’s clothing, he waltzes into the kitchen in a fugue state, his eyes closed, his arms ready to hug, or maybe wrap around his prey and hold it down so it can be consumed.
Funky Winkerbean, 11/19/12
Sadder, unsurprisingly, is Funky Winkerbean’s annual Turkey Sale. There used to be a certain manic joy to the Westview band’s attempt to stave off bankruptcy by selling possibly non-USDA-inspected turkeys to unsuspecting saps door-to-door. A cartoonist who starts off writing strips when he’s young generally has young viewpoint characters; if he’s lucky enough to have a job for decades, of course, the viewpoint characters get old and the new young people who get introduced into the cast are feckless morons. And so the current generation of turkey salesmanship is represented by Peruvian Hat Boy here, who wanders dumbly from door to door, mumbling out half-hearted pitches memorized by rote like those dead-eyed children you see on the subway selling boxes of M&M for “school.” I suppose it’s possible that he just had his will to live crushed out of him by endless lectures about the importance of sequential art.
Even grimmer is today’s B.C. Ha ha, this turkey has scavenged through the garbage to find the severed leg of one of its kin, and has now crudely attached the dismembered limb to his own chest in order to convince the world that he’s a genetic abomination, because he’s terrified of being killed and eaten!
In non-horror news, Miss Grundy is sad that her students don’t know who Savonarola is, which might be more troubling if she were teaching a class about, say, the history of Renaissance Italy in general, or maybe precursors to the Reformation? Because while Savonarola is the subject of a moderately famous painting by Fra Bartolomeo, he was more of a political-religious figure than anything to do with art. On the other hand, kudos to The Savannah Roller, who’s definitely selected one of roller derby’s more obscure pun-names.
Heathcliff and his girlfriend, who enjoy elaborate role-play, have hired a bored pizza delivery man to “deliver” Heathcliff, for sex. You can tell the pun fills him with contempt, but work is work.
Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/7/12
So Rex Morgan saved a lady’s life with CPR and has, in his inimitable way, been a sullen dick about it ever since. Everyone’s been thanking him and telling him that he’s on YouTube and the world thinks he’s a hero and he’s just gotten madder and madder about it. I sincerely hope he uses this impromptu press conference as an opportunity to just tell everyone in the world how dumb they are and how much he hates them. “Yes, if administered correctly, CPR absolutely saves lives! Too bad most of you incompetent yahoos won’t do it correctly, leaving a trail of corpses with shattered sternums behind you. Here, here’s my long list of everything that’s wrong with everyone who’s not me!”
Whoa, did B.C. just make a radical statement on the day after the election, announcing that our democracy is nothing but a sham and that the military-industrial complex is the true winner no matter how we vote? I mean, probably not, but the alternative explanation is gibbering madness, so let’s say yes.
Pluggers, meanwhile, are glad that pesky election stuff is over so they can concentrate on what’s really important to them: their disgusting bodily functions, and pills that might make them even more disgusting.
Ha ha, yes, because pirates were known for their … lack of respect for others’ personal space? Along with the pillaging and murder? Yaarrrr?
I know I should be impressed that these primitive cave-dwelling hominids have mastered writing at all, but I think a big banner that says “HALLOWEEN PARTY” hanging up at a Halloween party is a little on the nose.
Mary Worth, 10/27/12
NO NO NO SECOND PANEL MUCH TOO CLOSE BACK UP BACK UP FOR THE LOVE OF GOD BACK UP
Hagar the Horrible, 10/15/12
“Maybe I shouldn’t have spent the night before I led my men into a brutal, hand-to-hand combat, during which they must either kill or be killed, filling their heads with tales of damned souls, wandering the earth as dim spectres, mere shadows of their former selves. Which thought do you think is more likely to jump into their heads unbidden it the midst of this violent melee: that they themselves will be felled in battle and their shade will live on, with the wounds and terror they feel now continuing for eternity? Or that, for the rest of their lives, every time they feel a prickling on the back of their neck or an unseasonably icy wind across their face, they’ll suspect that it’s the vengeful spirit of a man they cut down, haunting them until they succumb to madness and terror?”
Hi and Lois, 10/15/12
Ha, and if Hi’s face is any indication, he sure has earned the right to use the word “boring”! If Hi’s face is any indication, today was the day when his capacity to feel joy or pain or anything at all really was finally snuffed out by the intense ennui of mindless, soulless corporate dronery. Get used to that face, kids, it’s the only one he can make now!
Slylock Fox, 10/15/12
In order for the Slylockian world anthropomorphic animals to exist, there must be some kind of apocalyptic event in our future and their past, during which the lower beasts achieved sentience and most of the human population was wiped out, presumably violently. Normally I don’t take this personally, but something about today’s strip, in which we learn that these horror-monsters are riding our subway to our Brooklyn, makes me angry. You didn’t build that, hippo-thing! Neither did you, shirt-wearing cat! The thought of the Museum of Natural History, presumably now retooled and dedicated to the animals’ triumph over the now exterminated human race, particularly sickens me.
Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/15/12
Oh my goodness, I sure hope that “the party business” is the euphemism for prostitution that the writer of Rex Morgan and King Features Syndicate agreed on after several tortuous weeks of negotiations! Junior knows, and so does that cheery looking couple sitting on the bench. “That Junior, he runs the best brothel in San Diego County, doesn’t he, Martha?” “You can say that again, dear!”
Hey! I just flew Southwest yesterday, and as usual the flight and service were excellent, and not once did anyone attempt to feed me something that they barfed and/or shat out (sorry, I’ve already grossed myself out enough just thinking about this, not going to look up how gizzards actually work, I’m afraid there’ll be pictures).
You know, the modern, Internet-savvy newsroom is a high-pressure, 24/7 operation, so it’s nice to see that J. Jonah Jameson still takes time to humiliate his employees with elaborate, improvised, and extremely sarcastic little skits.
So Spider-Man finally had to resort to some extremely mild superheroics in order to defeat Clown-9, and I think we can all be grateful that that’s over. Because now the strip can get back to its core competency: Spider-Man’s irritating personal and domestic situation, or, in his absence (obviously he’s earned a few days of semi-conscious TV time), that of his wife. I sure hope you want to see petty bickering behind the scenes of Broadway’s most terrible comedy sensation, because it seems that’s going to be the theme of our week!
Today Jericho demonstrates that he’s too dumb to recognize when he’s been insulted, which is probably a good quality to have if you’re both thin-skinned and the sort of person that people want to insult. But he also demonstrates the natural-born actor’s native eloquence: “Spider-Man’s victory over a deranged clown” is surely one of the most pleasing turns of phrase we’re likely to see in this strip all year.
Apartment 3-G, 10/1/12
Margo, you’re slipping, girl! The best way to maintain your dignity is to act as if everything you do is dignified and ignore the opinions of other, lesser people on the subject. “Greg, my paid manservant Evan was just tending to my physical needs and you interrupted his process! This is very inconvenient for me. I demand that you apologize to him for the imposition. I believe he’s weeping quietly to himself in a corner somewhere, I’m sure you can find him, just follow the sobbing.”
Today’s B.C. features vicious carnivores using dismembered corpse parts as currency, in a scene that would fit in perfectly either in the most depraved of shock-horror films or in the beloved, family-friendly confines of the comics page! The pool of blood spreading out from beneath the quivering heap of viscera is a nice touch.