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Dennis the Menace, 4/17/07

It’s easy to feel like you don’t make a difference in this cruel world, but every once in a while you realize that concentrated effort can effect change. For instance, lately I think I’ve detected a modest but measurable uptick in menacing on the part of Dennis Mitchell, and I’m more than willing to credit that to the hectoring from this site. Today’s installment is particularly delicious, as Dennis manages to emasculate his father on two levels: by revealing to a third party that his wife openly flirts with other men, and by suggesting that he make a pass at this strappling officer of the law. The look of barely internalized rage on Henry’s face might suggest savage beatings down the road, but the Mitchells are a civilized clan: presumably some act of psychological warfare will be perpetrated against his son instead.

Mark Trail, 4/17/07

Speaking of savage beatings, I can’t wait to see the epic fisticuffs that will soon break out in this dingy hotel room, reducing the cheap furniture to so much kindling. In the second panel, the reason for Mark’s tie becomes obvious: for a brief moment, Dan has mistaken Mark for a Mormon missionary, and that instant of confusion gives our hero the opening he needs to force his way in and get all shouty shouty.

Apartment 3-G, 4/17/07

I have a great memory for useless trivia, and it’s both a blessing and a curse. For instance, most of you have probably long forgotten that more than six months ago Margo casually mentioned that she had an assistant, but I’ve been on tenterhooks to find out who this person was, or if the very existence of such an individual was just a figment of Margo’s bravado and need to look important and/or imagination. Today, we learn that she’s hired an attractive, younger fellow, naturally, though his unnaturally wide hair part and taste in powder blue polo shirts are unfortunate. While it’s impossible to say for sure, we can reasonably assume that he harbors lustful feelings in his heart for his boss, which her frequent outbursts of unreasonable rage only intensify.

By the way, Margo, I don’t mean to speak out of turn, but you were, strictly speaking, hired to, um, help. Don’t be mad at me.

Gil Thorp, 4/17/07

Oh, so he’s a preternaturally helpful old black man with a colorful nickname! Nice. I bet he has some real life lessons to impart to these young white people. Yup.

To be fair, if my name were “Otha,” I’d go by a nickname too. The fact that he likes to be called “Clambake” may indicate that his real agenda is to protect the Milford baseball team from Scientology.

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Slylock Fox, 4/16/07

We all know that Slylock and Max use their status in the community as well-known vigilantes to spy on consensual B&D play. I suspect that this little puzzle has been staged to further their sex lives as well. It’s the reason why the stubbly dog/bear/whatever thing looks so mad despite the fact that it’s the toad that’s ostensibly guilty. Clearly our dynamic duo of ratiocination have slipped this pair of lowlifes a tenner to act the part of the villains in this little sham mystery; the dog/bear thing is realizing that while his share of the payoff won’t last more than the five minutes it takes him to polish off two shots of whisky, the mouse and the fox just earned themselves several nights of sweet mystery-solving lovin’. The toad, being an amphibian, doesn’t understand the mating habits of mammals, and just stares on dumbly.

Apartment 3-G, 4/16/07

OH SNAP MARGO YOU JUST GOT CALLED A BUN-HEADED HO!

Since Katy’s mom is “Ms. Mills,” she’s clearly Eric’s sister-in-law rather than his actual sister, and so therefore fair game for bitter hatred from our gal Magee. In the real world, of course, it would be possible that she had just kept her maiden name, but in the comics pages nobody does that for fear of unleashing thousands of angry letters from people ranting about “feminazis.” They’re going to get a few of those anyway just for using the dreaded “Ms.”

Gil Thorp, 4/16/07

“Lock your eyes on one hole, get set, and swing. And keep doing it” is of course an unspeakably filthy phrase, but in a strip that frequently features dialogue like “Liz Ritter all but forces Stormy Hicks to go to The Bucket,” it’s not really all that remarkable. What’s more disturbing to me is the fact that that the appointment of Lisa Wyche’s wannabe jock mom as assistant girls hoops coach is not an isolated incident: Apparently Milford High is going to make a habit of allowing bored, isolated community members to give rambling instructions on athletic techniques to the school’s students. This could cause trouble. I’m sure in the movies we’d all enjoy the kindly old man who offers his years of experience to coach the team of misfits to a championship season, but in this age of insane paranoia, once the PTA gets wind that some bald dude is urging the town’s youth to “lock your eyes on one hole” and “keep doing it,” they’d ride him out of town on a rail.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 4/16/07

Never mind Walt Warbler’s blatant resume-padding; isn’t it kind of odd that Lula Patoot is doing touring-company theater in the sticks just days after she inked that $15 million move deal?

What I’m most intrigued by here, of course, is the play that Lula and Walt will be singing in, Les Misebarf. I’m assuming that, following in the wake of Urinetown’s success, it’s a re-imagining of Victor Hugo’s classic novel of political upheaval in France with the characters expressing their deep-felt emotions by vomiting on one another. Patrons with seats in the first few rows are warned that they will get wet. What I want to know: is it pronounced “Miz-barf,” “Miz-ay-barf,” or “Mies-barf”?

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Mark Trail, 4/15/07

Let it never be said that the Sunday Mark Trail strips aren’t educational and informative. Without them, I’d probably still view elephants as gentle, endangered herbivores rather than the murderous, yam-poaching menaces that they are. Today, I learned that, despite all my assumptions and common sense, great herds of squid can and occasionally do leap out of the water in precise, Olympic-synchronized-swimming-quality formation. It’s a good thing I learned this in the safe confines of the comics, because I think that if I had encountered a flying flock of squid in real life I would have been reduced to a quivering, urine-soaked lump of fear.

Funky Winkerbean, 4/15/07

The goofy, absurd punchline to this strip hearkens back to the days before Funky Winkerbean took The Turn To Grim, but with the shadows everywhere, the glum faces, and the general pall hanging like a black cloud over everything, there’s no mistaking it for anything but a product of this feature’s late ’00s bleakness. I particularly like Black Teacher Dude Whose Name I’m Pretty Sure I Never Knew’s attitude of slouched resignation in the second panel. He seems reasonably sure that this newfangled copier will somehow make his job obsolete and put him in a homeless shelter within the month. He’s right, of course, but what he doesn’t realize is that he’s standing too close to its radioactive core and he’ll leave his job with a nasty case of stomach cancer to boot.

Mary Worth, 4/15/07

As I think my visual annotations above prove pretty well, Vera Shields is either completely insane or very, very sarcastic. (For more visual evidence of Mary’s horrible cooking, check out this post on Subdivided We Stand, faithful reader Smitty Smedlap’s blog.)

Lio, 4/15/07

No snark on this one from me, just thought you’d all enjoy it. I particularly like the way Leroy Hateachothers keeps his cool and makes a wisecrack while everyone else panics.