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Pardon My Planet, 8/20/26

OK, here’s a sentence that I’m reasonably sure I’ve never written before, and probably nobody else has either: I’m actually enjoying the art in Pardon My Planet today. Specifically, I love how incredibly exhausted the girlfriend character (the Pardon My Planet gang may have names, but I steadfastly refuse to learn them) looks. How long has her boyfriend been nattering on with this nonsense? Hours? She doesn’t have to get ready for school either, but she does have to get up in the morning. She just wants to sleep, damn it! She just wants to sleep!

The Lockhorns, 8/20/26

Speaking of comic panel faces I’m enjoying, I’m enjoying Leroy’s boss’s face here. Specifically, I enjoy how mad he looks. He’s not one of those LinkedIn influencer execs bragging about replacing his workers with AI! No, he’s discovered that AI is slowly and silently replacing his workers one by one, right under his nose … and there’s nothing he can do about it. You can’t even test to see if someone’s a robot anymore, according to the killjoys in HR!

Mother Goose and Grimm, 8/20/26

No, Attila, it’s a joke! You’re a character in a comic strip, where ostensibly there’s a joke every day! I say “ostensibly” because the specific comic strip you’re in is Mother Goose and Grimm, but still, you should know this.

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Crock, 8/12/26

I’ll admit it: I am, in fact, a gentleman of a certain age, which means I must begin working out how I’m going to start facing mortality. Turning, as one does, to the comics for masculine role models, I learn that, if I feel my heart starting to give out on me, I should simply glare out over the parapet in manly silence waiting for it to pass (“it” here being either this cardiac event or my fleeting life on earth). And if anyone tries to engage me in conversation in my final moments? Well, that’s when I make it their problem that I’m dying, and make them feel bad about it.

Mother Goose and Grimm, 8/12/26

Pinocchio has what looks to me to be a big frown on his face, but maybe that’s just supposed to be what his face as a puppet looks like? Unclear. If it’s the latter, it’s depressing that he looks like that all the time, but if it’s the former it’s because he’s learning that the autonomy he long yearned for carries with it the terrible burdens of responsibility for one’s own personhood, which is frankly even more depressing.

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Mother Goose and Grimm, 8/8/26

So, ah, what do you think that foodstuff is that Superman is slicing in half with his (I assume) heat vision? Is it a deep dish pizza, half cheese and half pepperoni? Some kind of custard tart with fruit on only half of it? Assuming that the “topping on only half” part is deliberate, why would Supes be slicing the appetizer in half in a way that each half has some topping and some not? And could either a pizza or a tart really be considered an “appetizer,” anyway? BUT: what if I told you that this is all a distraction from the real issue, which is that Mother Goose, who has a boyfriend, is on what appears to be a date with the Man of Steel, who, I haven’t really been keeping up but he generally has a couple ladies whose affections he’s juggling as well, right? What is going on here? Scandalous!

Hi and Lois, 8/8/26

Sure, this looks like a couple of suburban bros enjoying a little light erotic hosefun, but think about it for a moment: Hi declares that it’s hot enough to spray Thirsty with his hose, which implies that there are situations where Thirsty would be uncomfortable enough to ask but Hi would deem the weather too mild and would then withhold the desired soaking. In other words, it’s a little BDSM-flavored light erotic hosefun.

Marvin, 8/8/26

I like how Marvin’s grandpa tried to do a cute little joke to make light of the pain constantly besetting his aging body, but it doesn’t work to lighten his or Bernie’s spirits and neither of them can muster a smile. Usually when I write a sentence like this starting with “I like how…” I’m being sarcastic, but not in this case. I bear animus towards all the characters in Marvin, even the ancillary ones, and I revel in their unbroken experience of misery.