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Beetle Bailey, 9/17/07

There’s been much speculation as the real nature of the relationship between Beetle and Sarge. In the absence of any leadership from Camp Swampy’s officer corps, has Sarge’s near-limitless authority over his subordinates simply allowed his inner brute to emerge in full, sadistic force? Or is Beetle no mere subject, but rather a participant in a complex and largely unspoken sadomasochistic relationship? Today’s strip offers another, even darker take: Sgt. Snorkel is an artist — an artist whose medium is human flesh and bone and blood, and Pvt. Bailey is and will forever be his greatest masterpiece. In this view, the opinion of Beetle on his role in this transaction is really no more important than a dab of paint’s views on being part of van Gogh’s Sunflowers. The chaplain, naturally, is horrified by the human price of art, but the angry beauty of Beetle’s mangled still-living body cannot be denied.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/17/07

Hey, remember a while back when gym teacher Bull implied that he wanted Les to knock up his ever-smirking wife? And now here they are, black-helmet-haired tot in tow? I’m sure that it was really adopted from Romania or something, but let me just for a moment revel in the idea that Les is at long last seeing the result of a fairly lucrative 20 minutes he spent “running errands” while Lisa was in chemo.

Marvin, 9/17/07

Marvin’s look of numb, wide-eyed horror tells us all we need to know about mom’s sadistic will to power through infinite punishment. Presumably he realizes that he’ll spend the rest of his life in that playpen. When he gets tall enough to climb out, his mother will simply put a lid over the top of the pen, leaving him to become a tiny, bonsai-sized adult with stunted limbs, a gruesome example to any toddlers thinking of doing whatever I’m-too-lazy-to-come-up-with-something-specific act of mischief the cowed dog is referring to in panel one.

Mary Worth, 9/17/07

I’ve played a fair amount of Wii Boxing in the past few weeks, and I’ve even seen filmed evidence (with audio) of what I look like while playing Wii Boxing, so I have a pretty good idea of what Dawn’s fists in that position portend. Drew and Vera, get ready to have those little knuckle sandwiches come flailing at you while she lets out little high-pitched grunts of rage! You won’t be able to fend off her head-vibrating assault without giggling.

Dawn’s “And I thought you were the ‘one’!” is actually a pretty effective comeback, in the sense that it riffs off of Drew’s “I thought you were studying” excuse, which is so lame that she could never have anticipated it in advance. I hope she uses her razor wit to further humiliate Drew and Vera as she pummels them. I suggest she start with their bizarre decision to wear matching brown pants.

Pluggers, 9/17/07

A plugger’s body is a battleground where the marketing departments of major pharmaceutical companies fight to the death.

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It’s that time again … the time for the comment of the week!

“Isn’t it possible that when Momma says a young lady is ‘very nice,’ she really means ‘a hot chick who’ll sleep with anybody, even my idiot son’? I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but it seems unlikely that Momma’s gossip-yenta social circle wouldn’t know exactly what kind of a girl Freda Klotz is. A classic enabler, she’s basically telling Francis, ‘If you’re going to put your wingwang in every slut in town, at least make it my friend’s daughter so we’ll have something to talk about at the sewing circle next week.'” –BigTed

And the as-always hilarious runners up!

“Dude, if you’re not going to give Marmaduke your ice cream, keep it away from his gaping maw! Chocolate mint dog drool is the favorite flavor of no one.” –Artist formerly known as Ben

“A3G: Crikey, with all of the vague innuendo we’ve had to endure over the last few days (Him: ‘I don’t want to hurt her’ … Her: ‘I want a commitment’), this better not wind up one of those weird-ass I Love Lucy cum Aesop’s Fables thingies — you know, where Eric gave up tobacco to buy Margo a hair brush and Margo cut off her hair to buy Eric a pipe. Although with these two, the wacky mixup probably involves anal sex and brain eating.” –SmartPeopleOnIce

“MT: What, is Evil Sideburns Guy going to tap the duck to death with his medium-sized branch?” –Inspector Dim

“Faye was supposed to be goth? I thought she looked like a Japanese boy who really enjoyed Back to the Future.” –Darkefang

“Let’s face it: For Better or For Worse is similar to Tolstoy’s War and Peace in the amount of characters that trod across the page but without the charm or whimsy.” –Dingo

“In other news, and I know this has been asked many times, many ways, but what the f*** is up with Gil Thorp? Why the gratuitous crotch shots and the weird misshapen bodies and the physically impossible angles and the … and the … I don’t think this blog would be complete without someone having the weekly Gil Thorp freak-out. I like to call them the ‘GTs.'” –Big Sims

“I find it curious that Jack Elrod follows a birds-aren’t-really-here-someone-with-sideburns-placed-them-here storyline with a birds-are-in-the-way-but-now-they’re-really-here-and-a-sideburned-guy-wants-to-kill-them storyline. It’s all going to end up with a disillusioned Mark Trail with a sore fist leaving the forest and going on a journey to discover himself. Watch his unshaven self sock jaws on a whaling ship along with his newfound hippie Greenpeace buddies, thinking, ‘This feels good, but … is it really who I am? I must find out!'” –MrP

“Homer’s devotion to that stupid, stupid duck is starting to piss me off. I hope Shirley gives him the bird flu, and he dies and collapses on top of her eggs, and the impatient boss has his corpse paved over to use as a Homer-shaped speedbump in the parking lot. That is a store I would attend very, very often.” –Rhekarid

“I can only hope the descent into FOOB Rashomon leads to Elizabeth remembering the same trip, only with a murder.” –js

“This is the first FOOB in a long time to which I could relate; I too was vomiting by the last panel.” –McManx

“Oh man. Brad and TJ are so going to gay it up together. God, I hope that even more comics start having gay subtext. Hell, this is hardly even sub. (Feel free to come up with your own jokes here, involving the word ‘sub,’ and possibly the word ‘hardly.’)” –Sensitive Poet

“I see Milford is just like my hometown! Their football pep rallies feature a summoning ritual, and they bask in the nimbus of their demon masters.” –migellito

“Why, is that a patented Mark Trail Fist-o-Fury Dawn’s clenching? By golly, I think it is! The Mark Trail Fist-o-Fury: It’ll Endanger Your Species!” –Allie Cat

You commentors aren’t just making funny comments: you’re also proving yourself braver than I by leaving the house and the warming glow of the computer screen and hanging out with one another (gasp!) in person! And there’s photographic evidence, even. Here are faithful readers (from left) Trilobite, Mountain Momma (with a signed TDIET based on her idea, coming soon to a newspaper near you), the Divine O’Fogeyette, and Bats :[ (with Bill the Cat and Jeffy Keane’s freakishly large head).

And there’s more to come! Faithful reader The Spectacular Spider-Brick would like anyone interested in a Madison, Wisconsin-area meetup to e-mail him at flagator@gate.net. And a northern California meetup also seems to be in the works! Because I can see this going quickly out of my ability to keep up with everyone, I’ve created an area on the forums site specifically for coordinating your Curmudgeon get-togethers. Let me know how it all goes!

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/16/07

Well, hello there, radical disconnect between tone and subject matter! How nice of you to drop by today and hang out with Rex Morgan, M.D., for a bit! With Rex sitting there all stoop-shouldered and palms-upraised on May’s shabby couch, he looks less like he’s going to be taking Niki on a fun fishing trip and more like he’s representing the loan shark and is here to finally collect on that long-standing debt, and he’s really sorry, but if May doesn’t have the cash, he’ll be taking one of her thumbs. The final panel is just entirely baffling to me: it’s a damn fishing trip, how disappointing can it get? “May, I’m afraid that after six hours, your son wasn’t able to catch a single fish, so obviously there won’t be any need to repeat this fiasco. And your further services won’t be required down at the clinic either.”

The less said about “This is as much for me as it is for him!” the better, obviously.

Marvin, 9/16/07

I’m mildly befuddled by the first panel in the bottom row here — “I’ve been wanting to try out one of these babies since the day I was born!” Has evolution finally programmed the urge to draw with felt markers — and, perhaps more important, breathe in their sweet, heady fumes — right into the DNA of every member of our species? Are we literally born to vandalize? But that’s nothing compared to my profound disquiet at the throwaway panel at the top right. Well … does he? Does he? Does he what? What does Marvin do? And, more to the point, why is Marvin speaking this question aloud rather than thought-ballooning as is his usual wont? Can you imagine if your toddler, who previously was incapable of speech, came into your living room, standing up straight with his hands clasped behind his back, heavy-lidded with ennui, and said, “Well … do I?” Would your first instinct not be to brain the unnatural creature with a shovel? Maybe that’s just me.

Slylock Fox, 9/16/07

I’m beginning to think that Count Weirdly needs some sort of image consultant or stage manager. I can’t figure out what the solution of this puzzle is, and the text is too small to really read, but I’m assuming the Count and his bald-headed accomplice are communicating with the usual run-of-the-mill vaudeville trickery. Meanwhile, Weirdly’s greatest scientific triumph, a furry, jagged-toothed tentacled creature, possibly an animated towel of some sort, skitters about grinning with no acclaim or notice. That thing ought to be the centerpiece of his act, not his feats of phony phrenology. I do like the fact that Max is clutching his head in terror, convinced that Count Weirdly can read every thought in his puny (and no doubt very filthy) mouse mind.

In the “how many things start with S” cartoon at the top, this family seems way too blasé about the inevitable mold problem that will visit a lifetime of respiratory problems upon them and render their house completely unsalable. Maybe they just get sadistic enjoyment from the man of the house’s incompetence. “Come on, Billy, let’s go downstairs and watch daddy fail again! I’ll make sandwiches!”

Panel from Mary Worth, 9/16/07

Today’s Mary Worth was six panels of snoresville capped off by one panel of delightfulness. Watch out, Drew and Vera! Your horse-drawn happiness is about to be rudely interrupted by Dawn Weston and her tiny, tiny fist of fury! Dawn, since Drew is dumping you because you’re too young, it was a pretty clever idea on your part to show up wearing a collar that makes you look like a twelve-year-old.