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Curtis
Shoe, 2/1/10

Say what you will about Funky Winkerbean, but at least it’s totally upfront with its non-stop cavalcade of misery. Some strips hide a core of intense gloom that occasionally peeks out from underneath the cheery front end of a gag-a-day strip. Take today’s Shoe, for instance. The Perfesser thought-balloons that “mama said there’d be days like this” as his morning alarm goes off. In other words, he’s already written the day off as terrible in his first few seconds of wakefulness. “Oh, look, I didn’t die painlessly in my sleep. Yep, it looks like it’s gonna be one of those days!”
It’s also possible that the alarm has been going off for hours now, and the Perfesser is simply unable to move close enough to the clock to turn it off, due to some combination of obesity and decrepitude.
Gil Thorp, 2/1/10

Like many an angry, aimless dropout of his generation, Steve Luhm uses sarcasm to get in little digs at his elders that they’re too irony-deficient to catch. “My dad taught me there’s honor in any job if you work at hard at it … even coaching! And you know what’s a good sign that someone’s a hard worker? When they just hand off part of their workload to some other random person at the first opportunity! Anyway, I’ll be sure to thank my dad for that pearl of wisdom.”
Judge Parker, 2/1/10

Speaking of sarcasm, the Judge Parker narration box’s is particularly transparent today. At breakfast, Sam is still talking about Neddy’s live-in boyfriend! Still! The guy just will not shut up about it! Come on, dude, move on into the 21st century with the rest of us, OK?
Curtis, 2/1/10

I admit to being charmed by the enormous unblinking eye on Michelle’s t-shirt today. Curtis’s romantic ardor must be intense indeed, as it would instill a major case of the heebie-jeebies in the soul of a lesser suitor.
Luann, 2/1/10

Wait, they wish they had more time together? Every time we see them in this God-damned strip, they’re endless hashing out the terms of their perfectly gross relationship. Admittedly, each panel featuring Brand and/or Toni is one that doesn’t feature Luann and/or Gunther, but one shouldn’t have to settle for the lesser evil. Why not just retool the strip around Knute, Puddles the dog, Shannon, and Mr. Fogarty, and do everyone a favor?
Mary Worth, 2/1/10

Dear young people everywhere: do not ask either of your parents why he or she cannot forget a past lover unless you want to hear things about his or her past sexytimes that will shake you to your core. Fortunately, Wilbur is such a negative nelly that he goes straight to the arguments while meaningfully adjusting his glasses, though this may only presage tomorrow’s vivid recounting of the mind-blowing post-argument make-up sex. The description will blow Dawn’s socks off, assuming that purple bands of gauze wrapped around the middle of one’s feet can be said to constitute “socks.”
Gil Thorp, 1/12/10

Say, let’s catch up with Steve Luhm, the promising young man who decided to turn his back on his college career and become a high school janitor! Why would an obviously clever person do such a thing? Today, we learn that Steve is looking for easy access to high school girls, who he wrongheadedly believes will be impressed when he superciliously corrects their basic geography mistakes. Sure, Steve, rub the back of your head bashfully if you will, but you’re obviously hoping that your easy command of body-of-water nomenclature will somehow compensate for your lack of earning power and social status and get you at least to second base with sexy vest girl there. Let me assure you right now that it will not.
One might forgive Steve if he is genuinely the compulsive geographer that he claims. The chances that anybody, even in the “halls of academe,” would be having a dismissive conversation about various seas are extremely low, and this might be the only chance he has to strut his stuff. But I’m thinking it’s more the terribly-awkward-advance thing.
Spider-Man, 1/12/10

Like Spider-Man himself, I’m pretty disoriented by today’s Spider-Man strip. Not only is our hero being abruptly forced in mid-banter to engage in actual heroics, but there wasn’t even any elaborate set-up establishing the extremely low stakes in this conflict. Will this battle somehow reduce Peter Parker’s already low income, which he doesn’t really need anyway because his wife is a movie star? Will it reveal his secret identity to his Aunt May, who probably already actually knows? Will it embarrass him in the press? Will it interfere with his enjoyment of NBC’s Thursday-night lineup?
I’m assuming that the radiating black lines in panel two represent tingling spider-sense, in which case said sense is even less useful than I have hitherto imagined it. Note that Spidey encountered Sabertooth when the former was idly web-slinging around town, only to be abruptly punched in the chest by the latter. If his sense of prescience is only firing off now, as a giant mutant with razor-sharp claws is verbally threatening to kill him while actually lunging at him, I’d have to imagine that this supposed super-power is more distracting than anything else.
Curtis, 1/12/10

Credit where credit is due: “I’m, like, the black Greg Louganis of ice skating” is extremely funny. I’m a little concerned that Curtis appears to have lost a finger on his gloved hand between panels one and two, however.
The Lockhorns, 1/7/10

Today’s Lockhorns is particularly rich in the delightful seething contempt that keeps me coming back day after day. As if the naked animosity on the principals’ faces weren’t enough to bring joy to fans of marital misanthropy everywhere, we also have the fork jabbed into Leroy’s pile of undifferentiated food-like matter to amuse us. While it’s easy to imagine Leroy leaving it there sticking upwards to serve as a sort of visual confirmation of his complaints about the meal’s unappetizing physical qualities, the angle of the utensil, with its handle pointing away from him, implies that it was actually Loretta who put it there. Perhaps she initially appeared to thrust the fork at Leroy’s doughy torso, before changing her angle of attack at the last minute and leaving it in the home-cooked meal her husband is unable to appreciate! I also note that the configuration of the Lockhorns’ dining area seems to have changed, with Loretta’s seat being replaced by a portal to some kind of ecru nothingness, into which she can stalk when inevitably provoked.
Curtis, 1/7/10

I was about to rag on this year’s Curtis Kwanzaa storyline for its less-than-lunatic plotting and all-too-zen ending when I got to today’s final panel and found out that the whole thing was actually a touching tribute to a late friend of cartoonist Ray Billingsley. So, uh, thanks a lot, Mr. Billingsley, for making me feel even more like a petty jerk than I usually do. You’ve left me with nothing to do except point out that panel two’s depiction of an adorable bunny sleeping on the back of a contented hippo is quite charming.
Mark Trail, 1/7/10

Anyway, I certainly hope that nobody involved in the production on Mark Trail is dying inside due to neglect from his or her spouse, because I’m sure as hell going to make fun of that. Today’s exchange shows that each of the Trails has their role in this terrible dysfunctional marriage down pat, with Mark openly acknowledging that leaving his wife in a desert of emotional emptiness is just what he does!
Like a sonnet, each Mark Trail storyline is built out of a strictly defined series of components, and each story must begin with Cherry being ritually humiliated. First, she herself becomes the unwitting agent of her own loneliness. Why did she even tell Mark about that phone call, when she must have known it would lead to his almost immediate departure? In truth, she had no real choice in the matter, being driven on by her universe’s remorseless narrative logic. Compare her dialogue in that earlier strip to one from several years ago, as acted out by my lovely wife in our production of Mark Trail Theater. Amber read Tuesday’s dialogue out in her best Cherry Trail voice, and the echo was uncanny. Today, Cherry completes her debasement by launching a desperate and doomed sex advance at her husband. In panel three, Mark is closing his eyes and holding absolutely still, in the hope that Cherry will eventually lose interest and go away.
Beetle Bailey, 1/7/10

Meanwhile, Beetle Bailey grows less circumspect by the day, with Beetle no longer willing to pretend that Sarge’s elaborate exercise instructions have any purpose other than to get the young private out of his uniform trousers.
Oh my goodness, the site’s been all rearranged! More information about the redesign can be found on the Internet.
Curtis, 1/4/10

Oh, right, Kwanzaa! If there’s one thing that keeps me from viewing the purchase of a new calendar as just another step on the ever-descending spiral towards death, it’s the annual Curtis Kwanzaa fable of hallucinatory madness. I generally tear through the first half of the tale with joy when I return from my Christmas travels. Past adventures have included:
This year’s story, involving nightmarish soul-stealing shadow-things, talking, styled animals, and all-knowing rhythm instruments, while whimsical and awesome when measured by other yardsticks, is thus rather pedestrian by when viewed in the Curtis Kwanzaa context. Still, today our hero appears to be passing through a magic mirror into the realm of the dead, so perhaps things might be looking up. I’d also like to point out that his sentient animal friends can speak and think like humans but, since they cannot enter the spirit realm, apparently do not have souls, which to my mind makes them by far the creepiest part of this whole drama so far.
Pluggers, 1/4/10

Speaking of monstrous, soulless beasts, let’s check in with Pluggers! Let’s see, yep, same old same old, pluggers are casting their minds back to a bygone age and … finding it … wanting? OH MY GOD EVERYTHING I KNOW IS WRONG! Is 2010 the year pluggers finally get with the times? What’s next? “Pluggers will suffer a witch to live”? MADNESS!
Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 1/4/10

This strip would be funny (well, OK, not funny per se, but at least not so unsettling) if Ol’ Lukey were laffin’ it up with his fellow rustics in the second panel, rather than just sort of staring off into space looking befuddled and a little frightened. As it is, it appears that this elderly hillbilly is falling into corn likker-accelerated dementia, unable to remember where he’s going and why at any given moment. Soon he’ll be receiving Hootin’ Holler’s version of elder care (e.g., abandonment on a rocky hillside to be eaten by grizzlies).
Curtis, 12/21/09
IS NOTHING SAFE FROM THIS BLASTED RECESSION? The one thing that has kept all of America going in this blighted recessionary wasteland was the knowledge that, if we could just make it to December 26, we would have the annual Curtis Kwanzaa Fable to enjoy. But now we learn that this year’s tale won’t involve awesome drug-induced mayhem like giant telepathic otters and bat-winged bears, but will instead merely consist of the last few employed Americans being hit up for money.
Slylock Fox, 12/21/09
Let us pass over today’s sordid crime with only a passing nod of approbation for the perp’s amphibian insouciance, and instead focus on the TERRIFYING DEVIL-THING casually trying on shoes. Those ears aren’t shaped properly for her to be a fox or even the demon Queen of the animal hell Slylock inhabits; I must therefore assume that she’s some kind of lesser Dark Angel, trying on some spiky heels for grinding into the faces of damned souls down in her subterranean punishment realm.
The Phantom, 12/21/09
As a longstanding fan of the Phantom’s saucy narration boxes, I’m bit unsettled to learn that our host for the strip is actually an aged, bloated Billy Dee Williams, so desperate for work that he’s willing to cram an ascot into his collar and spout cheeky nonsense.
Gil Thorp, 12/21/09
Wait … but .. basketball? Milford sports tend to be more or less mutually exclusive, so this seems to indicate that football season is over. But wasn’t the football team actually kind of good this year? What about the playdowns? It bothers me that I’m more tuned in to the championship picture in the Valley Conference than I am to the fortunes of any of the real-life NFL teams for whom I ostensibly root.
And what about Duncan Daley’s simmering drunken rage? I certainly hope that he interrupts Milford’s first game by wandering onto the court, confused and belligerent, with that case of beer still hoisted on his shoulders.
Mary Worth, 12/21/09
Thank goodness the creators of Mary Worth finally realized that America simply couldn’t take any more strips featuring Wilbur typing in front of his computer; any more excitement along those lines and there would have been riots in the street. Today’s strip is still pretty good though, with Adrian and Dr. Jeff making goofy facial expressions and hand gestures (what’s Adrian playing peek-a-boo with, I’d like to know), and Mary disregarding basic kitchen safety by attempting to simultaneously open the oven and lean over the pot on the front burner (with its handle sticking out into the walkway, no less!) to stir whatever’s boiling in the back. In other words, while Wilbur is eating lonely white-bread sandwiches and agonizing over his past mistakes, the Corey Clan has been helping themselves to the “medicinal” pot brownies someone brought Scott.
Apartment 3-G, 12/21/09
Every once in a while, the characters in Apartment 3-G talk like actual New Yorkers. For instance, it makes total sense that a proud Manhattanite like the Professor would bobble his head in shock as he blurted out “Ruby has friends in Queens?!” I’m assuming he’s emphasizing that last phrase just as he would if he were saying “…on Mars?!” or “…in hell?!”
Mary Worth, 11/16/09
So, it looks like Scott is going to be A-OK, now that Dr. Jeff has given him and his sexy legs the once-over! Adrian is of course a doctor as well, but her medico-vision was disabled by grief and estrogen, so it was important for Jeff to make sure. (A competent doctor who was not a relative or potential relative of the patient was unavailable, as Dr. Jeff has made sure that everyone who works with him at Santa Royale General is one of his cronies or offspring.)
Anyway, with a mighty MEANWHILE, our narration box thrusts us pell-mell into the next storyline, and panel two shows us why we keep tuning into this feature. Who is making a phone call, and to whom? Is it someone calling to tell Mary that she’s wearing a hideous canary-yellow skirt-suit just like the one Mary’s been wearing all week, presaging a “Single White Meddling Biddy” storyline? Let’s hope!
Dick Tracy, 11/16/09
Here is the ethical dilemma for me as a Dick Tracy reader: each and every storyline inevitably ends in a scene of gruesome violence — with people being electrocuted or torn to bits by vicious dogs or run over by bulldozers — that I am genuinely shocked and discomfited to find on the comics page. And yet the rest of the strip is so baffling and dull that these flesh-mangling episodes are all I feel that I have to look forward to in this feature. Thus, I’m feeling pretty cheated right now, because despite several months’ worth of foreshadowing, not a single person in this interminable circus storyline has been mauled by a tiger, despite many chances for such a thing to happen. One can only hope that the plot’s various ne’er-do-wells have been spared that fate so that Dick can line them up and shoot them in the face one by one.
Luann, 11/16/09
For the record, this is a bad idea because Brad will try too hard and screw everything up, plus TJ will attempt to seduce Brad’s mom. His whipped sweet potatoes will still be exquisite.
Curtis, 11/16/09
I have never claimed to some kind of consistency in my comics likes and dislikes. Thus, while Marvin’s endless poop-smeared antics repulse me, I will always laugh at jokes about Curtis’s little brother picking his nose with malice aforethought, especially when this is indicated by comical sound effects.
Hi and Lois, 11/16/09
I realize that “nostalgia music” was more or less necessary to set up the punchline here, but for full sneering-at-old-people effect, I prefer “dinosaur rock” myself.
Oh, and Vintage Guitar magazine? It exists, my friends. Order it now for the dinosaur rocker on your Christmas list!
Spider-Man, 11/16/09
Newspaper comic strip Spider-Man trufans have been enjoying this plot so far, but have been waiting with mounting anxiety for the moment when the plot will hinge on the non-functioning of an ordinary household electronic device. Never fear, faithful readers! You know this feature always comes through for you!
More Josh-on-the-radio news! If your local public radio station carries Dick Gordon’s “The Story,” I am on it, today, talking nostalgically about being laid off during the last recession! In the Baltimore area it’s on WYPR at 8 pm. I will post a link to the podcast when available!