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The Family Cirus, 1/7/07

I had thought that the whole “childhood obesity epidemic” was something of an overblown moral panic. But that was before I saw the Family Circus clan celebrating their holiday weight gain. Kids! Competitive eating isn’t cool! Just because that freakishly thin Japanese guy can eat 78 hot dogs in an hour or whatever doesn’t mean you should try it at home.

Crock, 1/7/06

At first I thought the saddest thing about this Crock was that “WHUMP THUMP THUMP BUMP” was supposed to be music of some kind, probably rap music. Then I thought it was that the artist might actually believe that a boom box is a featureless grey box with a single button on the side. Then I thought it was that the whole “boom box” thing was a desperate stab at relevance at some kind for the “kids today.” Then I realized that trying to work out the saddest thing about this cartoon was in itself a deeply depressing exercize.

Judge Parker, 1/7/07

Oh man, Abbey’s misguided attempts to be a “cool parent” in Paris are going to be aweseome. She’s already getting Neddy drunk and they haven’t even landed yet. I can’t wait until Ned picks out the cutest boy, and Abbey has to go seal the deal. “My daughter, she is lovely, yes? You would like to make sweet Franco-American love to her, yes? I can make that happen.”

Mark Trail, 1/7/07

For those of you who can’t make out the type in the yellow box at the lower right that I’ve circled for you, it reads as follows:

Thanks to the Smithsonian Magazine, whose articles have been a useful resource for information used in Mark Trail.

Allow me to translate:

“Aw, CRAP! Deadline! CRAP! Uh … Sunday strip. Uh. What do we have lying around here? Hmm … Us Magazine … wow, Owen Wilson and Kate Hudson … NO! FOCUS! Wait, what’s this? Smithsonian? Hmm, polar bears … melting ice caps … oh yeah, they’ll eat that crap up. That’s gold, baby!”

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Hey, everybody! I’m not going to be able to post again until Monday evening, so I figured that, since the comments of last week have lasted nearly two weeks, I’d give you some COTW action to enjoy a bit early. First, our first COTW of the new year:

“Why the hell aren’t glowing telepathic otters the most publicized aspect of Kwanzaa? Its presence in Curtis has single-handedly legitimized this holiday in my mind.” –Joe

And many other funnies as well:

“Mary Worth wouldn’t last long in the third world but it would be fun watching her suffer.” –MossMoses

“Having ‘Kick Butt’ on a sweater vest would serve as a useful reminder for the school bullies, who would be on this kid like Ohhhh on Yeah.” –Steve S

“I’d respect that giant golden otter more if it didn’t look so much like a Hello Kitty … or maybe the Pink Panther? Either way, dubious street cred.” –Sheilagh

“Mary Worth is like diarrhea. It’s relentless, and, and…and…uh…okay, so the analogy sort of peters out after that. But I really just wanted to say how it’s like diarrhea, so I’m happy.” –Baby D’oh

“Also, today’s For Better or For Worse fills me with thoughts of self-mutilation. But Elly would be right there telling me how to do it better.” –Kate

“Nice to see Les relaxing in the teacher’s lounge with Rush Limbaugh and John Holmes. This school must have a pretty lax policy on drugs.” –Artist formerly known as Ben

“The Unbearable Magnetism of Liz: The child-bearing hips are the key that unlocks this mystery. With Canada’s low population and growing percentage of doddering stroke-afflicted geezers and flabby boomers, something drastic must be done! Immigration is not enough! Canada’s government has instituted a secret program to populate the Great White North via Elizabeth Patterson’s vagina. To maintain genetic diversity a platoon of racially heterogeneous males has been enlisted to assist.” –Pelagius

“We get it! We are a confusing species! We do things that beavers don’t understand! Well, I do, anyway.” –Justin

“April, the main concern for young women with your drooping, sagalicious cleavage is to lift them up like impoverished Congo peasants through Christian evangelism. This can be accomplished through a device known commonly as a brassiere or ‘bra.’ They sell them in stores these days.” –Dingo

And let’s not forget the advertisers who help make it all possible:

• Shop indie, pass it on! Pixelgirlshop has totally unique style for guys and girls.
• KFC consumer warning: A video from PETA.
• Andertoons: Funny cartoons for presentations, newsletters, advertising, and more.

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Dick Tracy, 1/6/07

Now, the number of you who have followed the current storyline in Dick Tracy in as much detail as I have can probably be counted on one hand. This is because this storyline, like Dick Tracy in general, is kind of bad. But I have to admit that I found this strip, in which things are brought more or less to a triumphant conclusion, to have a kind of quiet charm. From Dick’s dialogue which, while not quite poetic, at least has a certain pleasing alliterative rhythm to it (“made our minds his prisoners”, “now we’ve neutered his neurons”) to the sad, defeated look on Dr. Froid’s face, to the tiny little QWINK his sinister device makes as it’s powered down for good, the whole thing has a certain dignity that pretty much everything that’s happened up to this point has lacked.

For Better Or For Worse, 1/6/07

Speaking of lacking in dignity, I haven’t commented on FBOFW this week, mostly because I’ve grown so disgruntled with the plot direction that I don’t even know how to feel about Elizabeth’s inevitable discovery of Paul’s philandering. On the one hand, it provides an easy way for Elizabeth to be driven into the dull, reassuring arms of The Mustache, without any even slight lowering of her status as the strip’s incomprehensibly elevated Noble Goddess. On the other hand, a Patterson will experience emotional pain and anguish. So there’s that.

One thing I know exactly how to feel about is the strip’s patented and increasingly phoned-in punny punchlines: Bad. Bad is how I feel about them. “I’m going to say my boyfriend’s last name for no reason other than to supply a pun for my little sister’s ensuing thought balloon!” Bad.

Judge Parker, 1/6/07

Many faithful readers with a better grasp of geography and typical travel schedules than Judge Parker have pointed out that transatlantic flights simply do not land in Europe at 1:30 in the morning, ever. Still, based on her creepy white eyes in panel three, it’s no mystery why Neddy wants to go to the Champs-Elysées before sunup: to feast on the blood of the living.