Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/23/08
I’ve talked before about the Rex Morgan problem, which causes me to lose interest in the adventures of our dashing doctor at the moment at which they ostensibly become exciting. My favorite bits are always the moments of calm and barely concealed passive aggression before the storm, not in the gunplay and car chases and what have you. Today is a perfect example of the seething psychodrama that underlies this strip, as Rex, having whined about always being asked to help man Lenore’s regatta entry, is now about to start whining about not being asked. Presumably he’ll do some amateur sluething to discover why he’s been snubbed and discover skullduggery and intrigue, thus proving that dickishness is the universe’s most powerful force for good.
Family Circus, 8/23/08
Dolly, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with anyone touching his or her command module. It’s perfectly natural and healthy. If mommy and daddy had spent more time touching their command modules, there probably wouldn’t be so many of you terrible melonheads running around.
Ho ho ho! The AGJLU 3000 knows that there’s nothing the humans find more amusing than jokes about geometery.
“Now I’m dying of heart disease and skin cancer! Damn the slow, painstaking march of science!”