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Comics archive! Phantom

Sad I don’t get to keep saying “Man-Bot” forever

Spider-Man, 1/23/14

Say what you will about this battle between the Amazing Spider-Man and a nefarious supervillain one of Iron Man’s obsolete and jury rigged armor suits controlled by a nefarious supervillain a local publishing magnate with the stakes being Spider-Man’s very life Spider-Man’s secret identity, but at least it represents recognizably superheroic activity, it’s lasted three weeks at this point, and Peter Parker hasn’t paused once to watch TV at any time during the process. But now it looks like 2014′s quota for action and excitement has all been used up, so Man-Bot is going to crash into that van in the most hilariously half-assedly drawn panel this strip has seen to date. Is Man-Bot suddenly as long as a van, even though previously it’s been shown as not much taller than an ordinary person? Is the metal of the van’s wall peeling outward, even though Man-Bot is punching through from the outside? Yes and yes, because why not and who cares!

Family Circus, 1/23/14

Oh, dear, it appears that Jeffy is really just asking for a good smiting from the creator God, is he not? Perhaps his family will be killed and he’ll be afflicted with boils and then God will serve up a long Book of Job style poem about how Jeffy doesn’t really know crap about creating a universe, hopefully with an sidebar about what lousy parents ostriches are. Maybe He’ll go with the ironic Twilight Zone method of enlightenment, eliminating all clouds (and therefore rain) from the Earth’s sky until everyone dies of thirst. Or maybe He’ll be more New Testament gentle, and just send an angel to patiently explain to Jeffy that without those clouds he would’ve blinded himself by pointing his telescope directly at the sun, what with it being in the middle of the day and all.

Phantom, 1/23/14

Hey, remember that time in 2005 when a blonde lady discovered the Skull Cave and then the Phantom erased her mind with mind-erasing drugs? Long story short, the Phantom is going to erase this lady’s mind with mind-erasing drugs.

A fisticuff artist recognizes high-quality work

The Phantom, 1/9/14

Oh, man, the Phantom! I’ve been remiss in keeping you up to date with the Phantom, and don’t have the time/energy to fill you in on all the details about the current plot, in which a plucky journalist has hired a disreputable guide to help her find the Bandar. Mostly today I just want to point out how much the Phantom is enjoying this little spat, especially the part where the journalist calls her guide by his full name right before punching him in the face. “Mmm-hmm,” he thinks, allowing himself the faintest hint of a smile. “That’s some good punching.”

Hagar the Horrible, 1/9/14

This might seems like a joke about the kids today and/or those wacky liberals with their “fair trade” woo-woo and what is that even about amiright, but you have to keep in mind that Honi belongs to the family of a Viking noble whose entire fortune is derived from plunder and theft. In that light, this is actually a fairly saucy and defiant answer! It’s like this woman wants her entire village burned to the ground.

Better Half, 1/9/14

Were you concerned that the Better Half had used up all its medical-themed jokes in one great burst of hospital hilarity last Sunday? Don’t worry. As long as humans love the things that will eventually kill them and fear the reckoning that a visit to the doctor brings, there will always be more medical-themed jokes, to make you laugh and make you think (about death).

Bach in seiner Unterwäsche
Zeigt immer ein bisschen Arsch

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Slylock Fox, 10/16/13

Extinct or not, when a saber-toothed tiger menaces you with its 12-inch canine teeth, do not be the one to say it isn’t technically a tiger. At the very least, don’t be first one.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/16/13

Sarah toils unceasingly over her book in her basement prison. Rex is moved – Stockholm Syndrome is so adorable in the very young.

Six Chix, 10/16/13

Yes, because drug addicts need a loyalty program.

Phantom, 10/16/13

Gah, both Josh and I have been neglecting the Phantom for months because it’s just been such an incoherent mess but it’s the job so here we go:

Remember the mystery aeronaut of Mozz’s dream who had been rescued during WWI by the 19th Phantom and whose spectre showed up in the Deep Woods wearing a tattoo like the logo on drug pilot Ted West’s business card? And how the Phantom went to New York and a) forgave Ted for working with the drug gang because they threatened his family, b) broke into the drug boss’s house, c) knocked out all the minions, d) took a call that told him a big caper was going down at 3:00 AM, e) recorded the boss’s admission that he had taken a hit out on West, and f) here he is at 2:00 calling the cops?

Well the plan here is to use the Phantom’s own break-in as the pretext for a search that will lead police to incriminating evidence on the boss. There are, of course, constitutional safeguards against such behavior, but Dispatch Lady seems to think it’s pretty clever nonetheless.

Unresolved are a) what’s the big caper at 3:00, and b) what’s the connection between the aeronaut and Ted West? There you go: six months of the Phantom you’ll never have to read. If only there were some way to express your appreciation!

9 Chickweed Lane, 10/16/13

If you’re speaking English, it’s “The Well-Tempered Clavier.” This is true even if you’re having a conversation in English with a German concert pianist. The only reason to switch to German is to show off, and because Germans are required by law to correct your pronunciation, nobody would ever switch to German in this context unless they were pretty damn sure their audience didn’t speak it.

What I’m saying is a couple of thug spooks can kidnap her, drag her to a dungeon, hang her up in chains, and Edda Burber will still find a way to be the biggest jerk in the room.

Of course no real pianist would say it was ‘a’ fugue in C-sharp minor. WTC Book 2 (and why not Buch Zwei Edda hmm…?) includes one and only one fugue in each of the 24 key signatures — why, that’s the actual point of the exercise, is it not? Bach certainly seemed to think so, though I suppose he lacked your chops as an underwear model. Anyway, dearie, tell all the gals back in dance class that it was ‘the’ fugue in C-sharp minor, won’t you? Or just Number Four. Goodness, I’m certainly glad I’m not in that room.

– Uncle Lumpy