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Judge Parker, 6/21/10

While Sam and Neddy’s French boyfriend (about whom she has expressed ambivalence!) are back home writing elaborate legal disclaimers for fancy shoes, Neddy has slipped off to meet up with … the mysterious Mark! Is this the fellow that Neddy was doing the “tongue thing” with, when she was making her tearful goodbyes before heading off for her semester in France, four and a half years ago? No, that was apparently “Bob,” whose necking session with Neddy was spied upon by pretty much the entire Spencer-Driver household. (Click those links to check out the pre-Barreto Neddy and Abbey — rawr!) Anyway, this Mark fellow seems to just be some dude in an ugly green polo shirt with whom Neddy will apparently not be making out, yawn.

Luann, 6/21/10

I’m assuming that these screams of shock and horror are because Luann has accidentally walked in on Gunther changing and is seeing him in some extremely mild version of undress (i.e., without his omnipresent grid shirt), and this is going to set up another dumb “Tales of Ribaldry”-style sequence. Still, I’d like to imagine (for narrative interest, not sexual thrills, as all of these characters make my libido shrivel and die) that something truly “AHHH!” worthy is going on there: Gunther in a crotchless fursuit, Gunther in a crotchless fursuit humping a Luann-shaped pillow, etc.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/21/10

Well, it looks like Funky has stepped back from the precipice of full-on alcoholic relapse … for now. But what is the significance of our anachronistically attired barkeep’s decision to gulp down the cocktail Funky left behind? Perhaps the pall of gloom that seems to hover over the entire Funkyverse really only afflicts the main characters; the ancillary players live normal, happy lives in the background, until the day they come in contact with Les or Susan or whoever. As soon as Funky entered the bar, the awful aura of death and misery that surrounds him presumably chilled the bartender to his very core, leaving him very much in need of a stiff drink.

Mary Worth, 6/21/10

Dr. Roberts may be reluctant, but Jenna is insanely eager to get this Mary Worth-orchestrated romance off the ground. “Aww, yeah, here we go! I got my bowl of cottage cheese, my tall glass of Metamucil, and my laptop! Let’s get this party started!”

UPDATE: Good lord, i almost missed this:

One Big Happy, 6/21/10

The fellow in the first panel is, of course, wearing a Finger-Quotin’ Margo shirt! You can order your own and wear it with pride, whether or not you choose to sport goofy facial hair.

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Mary Worth, 6/4/10

Whoah, this plot is only in its infancy and already it’s going completely off the rails. Mary, refusing believe that anyone might not want to be heteronormally coupled up for all time forever, thrusts an accusing finger directly into Dr. Roberts’s non-loving face. The good doctor, a highly trained psychologist, knows a complete lunatic when he sees one, and has decided that his only hope is to feign insanity himself; he launches into a series of obsessive-compulsive tics, rubbing the back of his head and patting his chest while dancing aimlessly around the room, hoping that Mary will be terrified enough to flee. Ha ha, doctor, it’ll take more than that to shake her off!

Luann, 6/4/10

I’m not ashamed to admit that I find this newfound friendship just a little bit heartwarming, which makes sense because I’ve come to loathe all the main characters in Luann so much that I feel quite affectionate towards the ancillary characters whose main job is to irritate the DeGroots et al. Still, I’m a little unsettled to learn that TJ, who’s supposed to be, what, 23? 24?, considers 15 to be the entry level of his dating range.

And finally, I send you off on your weekend with a full-sized dose of Rusty-horror!

Panel from Mark Trail, 6/4/10

Ha ha, try looking at those freakishly wide eyes and those stubby fingers and not getting the heebie-jeebies!

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Luann, 5/26/10

“Specifically, to the nunnery. I know we’re not Catholic, but take this pamphlet anyway; maybe you’ll decide to switch. Your brother has been resisting my suggestions, so I’m just going to have him kidnapped and forcibly tonsured.”

Gil Thorp, 5/26/10

I take back what I said yesterday; in no circumstances do I want to see any two persons or objects in motion in Gil Thorp attempting to interact, as today’s third panel proves that such an encounter can only end in the complete collapse of all of Euclidean space-time into chaos and madness.

Mark Trail, 5/26/10

So I guess the theme of this storyline is going to be “Sassy will be hit by so many cars”? I’m not particularly pleased with this. Why couldn’t it have been Rusty?

Herb and Jamaal, 5/26/10

Ha ha! Herb hates his marriage and wishes that he and/or his wife were dead!

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Mark Trail, 5/14/10

Even I’m not so heartless as to crack wise about sassy getting hit by a car yesterday. However, now that we know Sassy is STILL ALIVE and about to be taken to the vet by this overalled hero, I do want to hold up for derision Mark’s increasingly callous dismissals of Rusty’s wholly justifiable fears. Could this storyline finally reveal Mark as the unfeeling monster that he is? “Relax, Rusty, she’s probably trying to dig that old rabbit out of a hole! Or digging her own grave, because she’s going to die soon, alone and in pain! One of the two. Ha ha, this horse has a soft nose!”

B.C., 5/14/10

This might seem hard to understand in the setting of the strip, but remember that this is caveman times, and the tiny band of eight or so human characters we see in the strip are the only representatives of H. sapiens on the planet. Britain hasn’t even been invented yet, so pretty much all you have to do to create it is write “British pub” on a rock.

Luann, 5/14/10

“Come on, you don’t plan a thing like that! You just push down obsessive, intrusive thoughts about it and swear to yourself and everyone else that you’ll never do it, until you finally just let yourself get carried away in the moment and do it without protection with someone you’re not really comfortable with! It’s like you don’t know anything about how sex works, Tiffany!”

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 5/13/10

Today’s Snuffy Smith offers a sad commentary on the economic dysfunction deeply ingrained in America’s rural shantytowns. Like virtually everyone in Hootin’ Holler, Susie’s boyfriend has neither the skills nor the opportunities to acquire meaningful work, and presumably makes ends meet through some combination of government assistance and chicken theft. But far from being ashamed of her new beau’s lack of economic utility, Susie can only see that this makes him like all the other men she knows in this isolated, impoverished valley. If he did have a job of some sort, that would mark him out as unusual and possibly a threat to the social order, so she’s happy with him as he is, and the cycle of poverty continues.

It’s also possible that I’m misreading this, and that “does he have an occupation” is hillbilly dialect for “is he constipated.”

Luann, 5/13/10

In typical irritating Luann fashion, Luann and Quill have been discussing the question of whether the two of them will record some pointless CD of Quill’s crappy songs together, with about as much effort and angst going into the negotiations as was involved in the Camp David Accords. What possible good could come of this, we thought? But now — now! — we can see that payoff: a hilarious misunderstanding based on stilted, unnatural dialogue! HEY-yo! I look forward to all of Pitts High buzzing over the fact that Quill and Luann are TOTALLY HAVING THE SEX. There will be tears, rage, confusion, and, eventually, learning.

Shoe, 5/13/10

I’m not sure what exactly this is supposed to mean, other than the usual “Buzz the old man-bird is senile and belligerent and says hilariously inappropriate things,” but it did make me contemplate the fact that, since birds don’t have sphincters at the tail end of their digestive system, they just sort of poop uncontrollably whenever the urge strikes. Which means that the Bird Senate of Shoe-world is encrusted with bird shit at all times! As is every other setting in this strip! OK, now I’ve grossed myself out. Thanks a lot, Buzz.

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Mark Trail, 4/17/10

One of my favorite things about Mark Trail is that its plotting seems to demonstrate a complete lack of familiarity with how this country — or any other, for that matter — is actually in practice governed. Usually this ignorance is most obvious when it comes to law enforcement, which in this strip mostly consists of forest rangers who lead off ne’er-do-wells who Mark has punched into submission; but things tend to get extra hilarious when the plot’s focus moves to actual government bodies. Longtime readers will remember the exciting eminent domain plotline, in which a zoning hearing that would in real life have taken place in the course of some deathly dull meeting of the county legislature incomprehensibly took the form of a dramatic jury trial. And today, it looks like we’re going to see two wholly unrelated matters — a zoning proposal to restrict float planes and motorboats on a lake that may or may not be publicly owned, who knows, and a criminal complaint about a vicious gang of backwoods poachers who are holding the north end of said lake under a reign of terror — get resolved by some ill-defined gathering of white dudes in suits in some mahogany-paneled room. Who are these men? What power do they wield? Will they be putty in Mark’s hands once he shows him the shocking photos in that manila folder? One of these questions is easy to answer.

Of course, it’s wholly possible that Jack Elrod deliberately refuses to depict government realistically because he recognizes no political authority other than the NOAA as legitimate.

Archie, 4/17/10

Archie, the comics’ most notorious man-whore, is clearly trying to figure out if even he would fuck a small, disk-shaped robot.

Luann, 4/17/10

OH MY GOD TIFFANY AND GUNTHER ARE TOTALLY GOING TO LOSE THEIR VIRGINITY TO EACH OTHER EVERYBODY! I find this prospect distasteful, not least because their clashing grid-shirts will induce terrible headaches if they get any closer to each other.

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Mary Worth, 4/10/10

Good lord, who is this person in the first panel supposed to be? Is it Mary, who, unbeknownst to all of us, has long, blonde tresses hidden under her forbidding white hair-helmet? Is it Tobey, who has finally snapped and gotten extensive facial surgery to look more like her meddling mentor? Or have the master and the apprentice merged into some kind of combined organism for terrible reasons we can only guess at?

Luann, 4/10/10

Ha ha, it was all a dream, everybody! I’m not sure whether the dream encompassed the entirety of this “Whitest West Side Story Ever” storyline or just the awkward post-performance party; either way, those who have been irritated by this plot have been rewarded with the most irritating sort of ending that narrative has to offer.

Funky Winkerbean, 4/10/10

So, sadly (by which I mean happily, but I have reached the point when I only can feel joy with the Funky Winkerbean characters are brought to unprecedented depths of misery), it looks like it’s just Montoni’s New York being shuttered, not the whole company as I had originally thought. Anyway, today we learn why New Yorkers were hesitant to embrace Westview-style pizza: the “inventory” apparently left sitting around a shuttered store in unrefrigerated boxes is still fit to at least give away, meaning that it’s almost certainly made entirely of science chemicals. Mmm, preservatives from the heartland! Taste what you’re missing, urban elitists!

Pluggers, 4/10/10

Pluggers are out and proud about their sexuality, but their compulsive eating invariably sends them into a shame spiral.

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Hi everyone! Yes, I’m back, and Uncle Lumpy’s reign is over, as you can tell by this totally-posted-in-the-early-evening update to the site. As our good Uncle so aptly put it in the wee hours of yesterday morning: “Josh, amiright?” Anyway, thanks go to my illustrious pinch hitter, and HUGE thanks go to everyone who contributed in the pledge drive (though of course each and every one of you will be getting personal thank-yous in the next few days).

Part of what delays me, as ever, is my obsessive-compulsive need to read at least the high points of the strips I missed! Here’s one panel that jumped out at me, fairly aggressively:

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/27/10

“Garage painting” is of course a euphemism for oral pleasures of long standing in this strip, so what this panel is revealing is that Rex and June and planning on holding their dewy young layabout houseguests hostage, as sex slaves. Either that, or Nikki did a really, really bad job painting the garage, since that all happened, what, three weeks ago, in strip time?

Meanwhile, America’s Teen Sweethearts offered material of more philosophical interest:

Panel from Luann, 3/26/10

Here, Tiffany offers an intriguing analysis of the experience that staged drama brings to its audience; Brecht would be proud of this description of a play as both intensely real and transparently false.

But the most important thing that happened in the world of the comics last week didn’t happen in the funny pages, but in movie theaters, where the full-length Marmaduke trailer finally dropped:

That of course is Oscar nominee William H. Macy as the subject of not one but two getting-hit-in-the-nuts jokes. Perhaps this year he’ll finally take home that golden statue (in the newly created “most times hit in nuts by CGI dog” category). Just keep telling yourself “It’s only fake real.”

And now! There were also comics today! Let’s get on it!

Apartment 3-G, 3/29/10

While I usually find the art in this strip pretty blah, I actually think Ari’s stunned silence in the final panel is quite effectively executed. He’s probably supposed to be figuring out how exactly he can avoid the violent episode Bobbie’s about to perpetrate onto him, but I’d like to believe that he’s more concerned about all those scripts he wrote. “Wait, she’s not taking the pills? The beautiful, delicious pills I so thoughtfully prescribed for her? This relationship is nothing but a mountain of lies!”

Dennis the Menace, 3/29/10

When Dennis joined a new church, one whose services featured glossolalia and snake-handling, he finally found the immediate and ecstatic connection to God that he had been searching for his entire childhood. Still, the suit-clad WASP squares at his parents’ Episcopal congregation sure found it menacing.

Judge Parker, 3/29/10

Oh, this battle for Neddy’s love/purity is going to be delightful! I can’t wait to see what sort of snide comment her fashion-world boyfriend has in store for Sam’s epically minty argyle sweater.

Luann, 3/29/10

Back to the fake real! Turns out that theater prodigies Luann and Quill were only capable of creating on-stage romantic chemistry because of their mutual lust for their shared pale good looks. Now that they’ve been transformed into non-Aryans via stagecraft wizardry, they’re no longer attracted to one another, and the play will bomb.

Crankshaft, 3/29/10

I may have missed the thrill-o-coaster that was last week’s “Mary returns a blouse,” but by God I will be here for each and every delicious minute of “Crankshaft gets dumped.”

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The Comics Curmudgeon Spring 2010 Fundraiser

Click above to contribute by credit card or PayPal, here to contribute by check, or here for more details — Thanks!

Gasoline Alley, 3/23/10

For better or for worse, many comics rely on wordplay for humor. Here’s a typical example, in which a simple misunderstanding will launch days and days of escalating overreactions and hilarious hijinks.

We almost lost Old Walt once before. A few years ago, Gasoline Alley ran a sweet story about his impending retirement to an Old Comics Home, where he could reminisce with the likes of Smokey Stover, the Yellow Kid, and other contemporaries (he was “born” in 1900; his son Skeezix is pushing 90). They ended that story abruptly, yanking Walt back here to be neglected by Gertie, mishear and misspeak stuff, and generally be the butt of old-guy jokes. I like to think the Old Comics Home was a kind of Heaven, and that Walt must’ve committed some unpardonable sexual sin during his wait to get in. You go, Walt!

Crankshaft, 3/23/10

Speaking of “butt of old guy” jokes, there’s nothing celestial about Ed Crankshaft’s, um, wordplay. Panel two’s “lukecold” is actually one of his better attempts, although neither Pam nor we can raise our eyes to it from the horror below. But there’s no excuse for “space heater” in panel one. Honestly, guys – “There must be something wrong with the water heater”/”My shower was lukecold!” How hard is that?

Luann, 3/23/10

Quill gives Luann ambiguously phrased, ridiculous singing advice, which Luann first misunderstands for Chinese, then takes to heart. Next week, we’ll all enjoy her solo performance of “Nnnnngh, nnngh, mmmmmmmmf!” sung with no eye contact whatsoever.

Apartment 3-G, 3/23/10

And in other news… OK, I think we can call it official — Armed lunatic junkie skank Bobbie Merrill is Martin Magee’s wife, Gabriella’s rival, Margo’s stepmom, Dr. Papagoras’s lover, and there’s gonna be hell to pay.

Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

Mary Worth, 3/23/10

Hey, remember yesterday when I suggested Mary’s mysterious “return” might be an overdue library book? Note to self: never, ever attempt to out-lame Mary Worth.

Hey, it’s the Spring 2010 Fundraiser — any cash you can spare to support Josh’s work here will be greatly appreciated — thank you!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Luann, 3/10/10

I have emphasized repeatedly that I find the Brad-Toni relationship gross, but I do feel a need to mention now and again that I also find aspects of it — in particular, the weird ultra-chastity in practice underneath the layers of innuendo — baffling. Not necessarily because there aren’t young adults out there who for whatever reason hold back on the sexing, but because their relationship isn’t treated as unusually chaste; in fact, it’s treated as some kind of dangerous, smoldering time-bomb of lust that could destroy the world if not carefully monitored by Brad’s mother. Take Toni’s dialogue in the first panel today: “Don’t tell your mom I’m here! She’ll think I hang out!” Not … hanging out! Is there really a parent in America today whose adult offspring must hide the fact that his or her significant other is spending time at said offspring’s own house in what appears to be the middle of the day? Does Mrs. DeGroot expect that Brad and Toni will be interacting solely at church socials and via long, flowery letters up until the day they marry?

The thing is, I honestly don’t believe that anyone involved in the creation of the strip — not Greg Evans, and not his syndicate — thinks this is how humans in 21st century mainstream America behave. But there must be some kind of editorial edict handed down from on high that declares any mention or hint of sexuality between non-married people be completely verboten. But Evans seems to really want to do “Mrs. DeGroot is threatened by Toni’s sexual interest in Brad,” for some reason, which, taking those restrictions into account, ends up as “Mrs. DeGroot is threatened by any contact between Brad and Toni of any sort.” It just reads as … off, which is not really what you want in a comic strip, I don’t think.

Meanwhile, if we’re looking for things that are gross, let’s take note of the almost invisible musical “Hi honey” coming out of Brad’s phone in panel three.

Mark Trail, 3/10/10

And yet Mark Trail, of all strips, has no apparent qualms about depicting raw sexuality out in the country, with a sexy ranger and sexy backwoodsman’s daughter sexily sizing each other up, for sex. Buzz offers the most hilariously nonspecific and uninteresting explanation possible of his presence in her neck of the woods in panel three, and Jan’s reply that this mushy amalgam of vagueness “sounds interesting” indicates that she isn’t even listening to the blah blah coming out of his pretty mouth; she’s more interested in getting into those electric blue jeans and finding out if the carpet matches the drapes. (It doesn’t, if the eyebrows are any indication.)

Meanwhile, in the background, Mark appears to be on the verge of humping a Ski-Doo. Hey, man, whatever floats your boat! Literally!

Hagar the Horrible, 3/10/10

In other cartoon sex news, Hagar is supposed to be a sympathetic viewpoint character, despite his attempts to cheat on his long-suffering wife with ladies in Viking bars. The really weird aspect of this is that this is actually more or less a repeat of a four and a half year old joke, right down to the strip’s composition, and yet it’s been somewhat rewritten and apparently completely redrawn. Why not just take it to its logical conclusion and just run the damn thing again?