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Comics archive! Barney Google & Snuffy Smith

I mean, they already live on a “farm upstate”

Mark Trail, 8/13/15




Let’s see, Spider-Man got all the powers of a spider when he was bitten by a radioactive spider, and Mark’s been irradiated by a bunch fo radioactive rods, so … he’s going to gain all the powers of a rod? Or maybe a guy named Rod? Rod-Man, Rod-Man, does whatever Rod/a rod (A-Rod?) can? This seems like an extremely boring angle on superheroic origins, but I’m willing to see where the strip goes with it.

Mary Worth, 8/13/15

This dinnertime conversation is in fact surpassing my wildest expectations for hypnotically fascinating dullness. Damn it, Ian, this poor man has already debased himself by taking a job at your pissant little university — don’t make him live in one of the little shitbox apartments in this crumbling late ’60s condo complex too! Leave him the scrap of dignity that living in a real house represents! Meanwhile, Toby is squeezing her eyes shut and thinking about her tiny sculptures as hard as she can, which I have to imagine is her strategy for sex with Ian as well.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 8/13/15

Boy, Lukey sure looks awfully sad. You don’t suppose Elivney … ate the goat? Right in front him? I’m pretty sure she ate the goat, guys.

Mostly Walker-Browne Monday

Hi and Lois, 8/10/15

Oh, man, I’m so glad we get to share this most special moment between a parent and child: the moment where childish bullshit stops being humored. “Look, dad, I made a whimsical, silly thing for you, based on my limited understanding of your grown-up interests!” “Wow. Wow. This variation on golf and bowling you just made up? It’s not practical at all. It certainly doesn’t sound like much fun. And this so-called ‘rule-book’ is just four sheets of paper that you didn’t even bother stapling together. This is a God-damned disgrace, son. I’m just going to let the muscles of my hand go slack so this nonsense flops down onto the floor. It’s certainly not worth getting up and walking all the way over to the garbage can for.”

Beetle Bailey, 8/10/15

The Army has long refused to take the very real problem of Beetle Bailey’s constant physical abuse at the hands of his superior officer seriously, and I’m not sure what’s more insulting: that somebody told Beetle that they had set up a special number to report abuse when obviously no such thing exists, or that they didn’t even bother making up a fake number with the right number of digits.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 8/10/15

Haw haw, Doc, Snuffy’s already laughin’ at your joke, Doc, so it looks like you won’t even have to tickle him! It almost makes up for the fact that your clinic in this impoverished rural community can’t afford any actual medication!


Lots of comics testing their traditional boundaries today. Check it out:

Mark Trail, 7/23/15

Slowly, with predator-like stealth, Mark Trail’s Sunday Nature strips have moved beyond their traditional range to invade and conquer the week. Tiny steps, at first – panels just a little larger, audience distracted by an African vista or boat explosion. Then the wildlife — foreground animals starting with bugs, then rodents, a comical lynx, then POW! A fin whale, right in your face!

Next comes dialog, and (like most dialog) this won’t go well for Mark: “They are known for attacking their own kind. Not like the FIN WHALE, a peaceful member of the RORQUALS, all of which have dorsal fins and throat grooves! Ken has been fishing these waters a long time … I’m confident he knows THE WHALE IS NOT A FISH … or else he wouldn’t be a fisherman but a WHALER, BRINGING THESE MAGNIFICENT CREATURES TO THE EDGE OF EXTINCTION, right? Hahaha wait what’s happening? Are those villains at NOAA behind this? I bet they are!”

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 7/23/15

Doc Pritchart is a dentist? Why?

Mary Worth, 7/23/15

Huh? A change of mind can’t be forced? Mary, have you completely forgotten what you’ve been doing for the past seventy-seven years? It is your brand, lady.

I sure hope this isn’t a move toward a kinder, gentler strip in which Mary minds her own business, keeps more and more to herself, and gradually withdraws into privacy of her room until a passerby notices that the talc-and-salmon smell outside her door has developed a distinct undertone ….

Meanwhile, AdamandTerry, get a room, wouldja?

– Uncle Lumpy