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You may have noticed for the past few days that I’ve been posting comics very early in the morning, only a few hours after they go live on the Houston Chronicle site. It was almost as if I were somewhere in the Pacific Time Zone, where these comics were available at 10 p.m. It was almost as if I were in San Diego, spending time — oh, I don’t know, maybe making fun of a Spider-Man movie with Mystery Science Theater 3000 alums Bill Corbett and Kevin Murphy!

If you’re not familiar with RiffTrax, you’d better get familiar with it, right now! RiffTrax is a project in the spirit of MST3K. It makes a clever end run around the issues of film licensing: you download the hilarious commentary on MP3, and then rent the DVD and watch them together. And on September 5, for a mere $2.99, you’ll be able to listen to one with me!

It will probably not shock you to learn that I’m a huge Mystery Science Theater fan, and that the show really influenced my writing. In terms of living out childhood dreams, probably the only thing that could have topped this would be getting to serve on the U.S.S. Enterprise with Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock. It was an honor, and it was a blast! Movie Spidey gets into a slightly greater number of tussles with supervillains than newspaper comic strip Spidey, but if anything he whines and mopes even more. I’ll let you all know when the MP3 is up!

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Spider-Man, 8/9/08

I’ve been mostly ignoring the current Spider-Man plot, which has offered a change of pace from Peter Parker whining about what’s on TV by showing us Peter Parker whining about having the flu. Today’s entry is worth featuring, though, because it includes a rare bout of actual superheroics on Spidey’s part. Naturally, his attempt to save the day has only resulted in him and two others plummeting to their deaths.

Marmaduke, 8/9/08

The Internet-savvy Marmaduke has used a social-networking Web site to arrange an orgy.

Wizard of Id, 8/10/08

“The Wizard of Id isn’t too hip on current events!”

“Why do you say that?”

“The strip writers thought that a two-year-old film based on a five-year-old book constituted ‘current events!'”

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Gil Thorp, 7/17/08

While it’s true that the U.S. military was under intense pressure to come up with an “outside the box” solution that would bring the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan to successful conclusions, “colossally misguided” was one of the kinder things future strategists and historians would have to say about the decision to deploy the Milford Mudlarks against the Taliban.

Apartment 3-G, 7/17/08

Desperate to stay relevant and solvent in a rapidly changing society, the League Of Wandering Eastern Holy Men signed a three-year contract with Hallmark to deliver all of their gnomic advice and warnings in greeting card form.

Judge Parker, 7/17/08

Sam surveyed the scene and had to be pleased: the dunce-capped lawyers from Dewey and Cheatem stood with their heads slumped, reciting their bourgeois, parasitic crimes against the proletariat in a soul-broken monotone, so that $50,000 advance couldn’t be far off; plus, the peasants who were occupying the newly nationalized golf course were well on their way towards meeting their five-year-plan goals for steel production.

Spider-Man, 7/17/08

I was going to make a “surrender Dorothy” joke here, but then I realized that Dorothy Gale showed courage, loyalty, and initiative, and in no way deserves to be compared to Spider-Man — except in the sense that she defeated her nemesis by accident, which is probably the best that Peter Parker can hope for.

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Maybe it’s the approach of yet another announced “sell-by” date, or the challenge to “knock [its author] off the page”, but suddenly everybody in the comics is trying to muscle in on the territory of For Better or For Worse. And since the funny page is such a vicious nest of vipers, every strip has picked out its own vulnerability to exploit:

Judge Parker, 7/1/2008

“Twenty-five thousand and one dollars, Sam, not a penny less! Real money, too — I mean Canadian dollars.”

Spider-Man, 7/1/2008

Meanwhile, Spidey hones his use of wordplay as a substitute for plot development. With his back to the audience and botched delivery, he looks like a strong contender to snatch Foob‘s crown.

Sally Forth, 7/1/2008

The Forths’ strategy targets the famed Foob flashback technique. Sorry, Forths — yours is still far too effective to compete.

Mandrake, 7/1/2008

Hey, look who’s here! Mandrake retains the egregious stereotyping of founding author Lee Falk, but it’s not aiming for The Phantom, or even Foob. With its dapper hero, hot babe, and low-water-pressure storyline, this strip has Rex Morgan, MD squarely in its sights.

Hey! Too much comic goodness for just one post today — stay tuned!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Dramatic reversals in the Wednesday serials — let’s dive right in!

Spider-Man, 6/25/2008

Oh, snap! Peter can’t stop the Vulture or even get pictures of anybody but himself. Jonah exploits his failure to buy the photos for a pittance, then spins the story so Spidey has to go back at the Vulture, sick or not. Let’s officially retitle this strip Jonah and be done with it.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/25/2008

And in an instant, Rex’s life is changed forever. Effortlessly, doughy Tom Arnold lookalike Max Mallory pierces his tissue of lies and threatens his cover, shield, and only source of strength. The roses in panel two tell us — and Rex — that Max now owns him no less completely than Mary owns Jeff. MRSA can sleep safe tonight.

Mary Worth, 6/25/2008

Today: Mary’s thought-bubbles beat down Jeff’s phone messages. Next: Mary’s emails beat down Jeff’s semaphore signals. Really, this strip could get along perfectly well without people. At least these people.

Apartment 3-G, 6/25/2008

Margo struggles with the whole “Tommie getting more than me” concept. There, there, dear — we’ve all been down that road.

Luann, 6/25/2008

Dear Mom:

Thank you for raising me. I am all grown up now. And a fireman! See my axe? Now shut the fuck up!

Love,

your Bradley

— Uncle Lumpy

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Funky Winkerbean, 6/23/2008

. . . putting her feelings before your own.

Apartment 3-G, 6/23/2008

Spider-Man, 6/23/2008

. . . checking both ends, just to be sure. “Say, ‘Ahhh’, Tiger!”

— Uncle Lumpy

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Everybody nags writers, “Show, don’t tell.” But when the showing fails and the deadline draws nigh, telling will have to do.

Judge Parker, 6/16/2008

For days, we’ve been speculating, “Terrorist plot or drug bust — which will appear in the newspaper?” The answer? Not this strip, if you keep this up. And hey — the maid gets
the inside seat in the breakfast nook? How does that work?

Mary Worth, 6/16/2008

Here’s another newspaper comic about what appears in a newspaper. But don’t worry — the narration box helpfully explains that the newspaper photo is misleading. Taking Mary’s side, of course.

The Phantom, 6/16/2008

Ignoring the convenient ladder, the Ghost-Who-Showboats speculates about how awesome his awesome feat will look when it appears in print. As though anybody’s going to look past the first panel.

Spider-Man, 6/16/2008

Spidey’s narration box is as baffled as we are. And perhaps as bored.

Mark Trail, 6/16/2008

The second panel’s giant tortoise is rendered mute. Cramming his gullet with peyote — or is it deadly nightshade? — he prays only that his release, or the end, will be quick.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Monday night is COTW time ’round these parts, but I have a couple of items of possible interest to you before we get to that. First off is this awesome pic from faithful and very pregnant reader Jennifer, preparing to train her baby in the ways of Mark Trail by means of an Official Fist o’ Justice T-shirt!

Jennifer sent me this picture a couple of days ago, so for all I know she could be giving birth RIGHT NOW! Anyone in range of that Trailian fist, know this: When she says she wants the pain meds, you give her the pain meds. And once the kid’s arrived, don’t forget, Jennifer: there’s an infant version available!

Also! You may recall that a few days ago that Jamaal of Herb and Jamaal, in his litany of signs of his alienation from his fellow man, made passing reference to “no blog replies.” Faithful reader Mike Podgorski took this to the logical next step, and created A “Blog” About Things, in which Jamaal can finally find his voice. Sadly, there are very few comments as of yet, no doubt reinforcing the big lug’s self-loathing. Mike is also the man behind the Amazing Spider-Blog, which focuses on Spidey’s inane newspaper adventures; I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned it here before, but it definitely deserves a look!

And now, without further ado — it’s COTW TIME!

“Poor Toby — wandering aimlessly around the Hotel California-like environs of Charterstone, sentenced to a pointless existence as a beard for her bear of a husband, deriving sad pleasure from meddling in the stilted courtship ritual of two senior citizens. I make it sound more interesting than it really is.” –trey le parc

This comment was painstakingly selected from our almost-as-funny finalists:

“This week’s Rex Morgan plot seems like the world’s most complicated teen-STD lesson. ‘You know, kids, every time you wrestle on a mat, it’s like you’re wrestling with everyone who’s ever wrestled on that mat before.'” –BigTed

“After Rex talks to the security guard, he meets June and Carol in the gym! I do not think that warrants exclamation marks! But we’re getting them anyway!” –Bootsy

“Alan is quite the foppish crackhead. ‘Now, to abscond with my purloined bills and beat a hasty path to the door of that rakish purveyor of contraband pharmaceuticals. My central nervous system shall be well and truly stimulated within the hour.'” –Ned Ryerson

“I’m willing to endure as many ‘Look at all the shoe stores — no wonder they call it Broads-way!’ and ‘There’s too many minorities!’ jokes as Batuik and Ayers can throw my way as long as this storyline holds the remote possibility of Crankshaft getting mugged. It will be a fitting end to his RAPIER WIT. Because he’ll be stabbed. Repeatedly.” –Fat Charlie

“Of course, Ron’s ‘good news’ is he’s re-evaluated his life thanks to Mary’s sage council and he’s getting back together with his ex. Now Mary gets to taste the bitter tea leaves of poetic justice, spritzed lightly with the acerbic lemon of irony.” –A Lemur

“I’ve finally figured out what Frank Bolle’s A3G artwork reminds me of: the illustrated emergency exit instructions you find in airplanes. No matter how dire the straits of the dope-addled junkie, he exhibits the vacant smile and pressed collar of a mannequin in a Macy’s catalog.” –minor flood

“I think Margo set the Wedding March to play when Tommie calls, with the dual purpose of cruelly mocking the hapless redhead and reassuring herself that she is not actually the MOST pathetic person in the universe.” –Violet

[In response to speculation that Margo wants to get married because her biological clock is ticking]: “Sadly, sperm shriek and kill themselves at the thought of entering Margo’s uterus and the horrible, naked, ringless egg that awaits them. The hardier ones actually refuse to leave their host, clinging to whatever they can, preferring the relatively merciful death by post-coital urination to the horrors that lie Over There.” –Paul1963

“‘Grassroots political activities’ = ExxonMobil astroturf campaign, from the looks of that haircut.” –BCist

“I suppose it’s a tired point, but Judge Parker should really be retitled Sexy People Doing Boring Things.” –Bunnë, Official Comic Execrator

“It would be the greatest thing ever should Grampa Jim pull a Farley at the Granthony-Lizardbreath nuptials. Which, of course, must go on while Deanna (who gets all the icky jobs, like being married to Michael) has to wheel the body out.” –Mac

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Family Circus, 6/5/08

A discussion about the nature of eternity, set against a blank, featureless void: behold the beginning of the transformation of the Family Circus into Existential Despair Comics.

Mark Trail, 6/5/08

“No! When Kelly took my pictures, she made me do things and touched me and it made me feel funny and bad! I MUST PROTECT THE ANIMALS!”

Gil Thorp, 6/5/08

“I mean, he’s still a total douche, so by all means carry on with the assault; I just can’t stand to see a savage beatdown conducted under false pretenses. It cheapens it, you know?”

Spider-Man, 6/5/08

“That’s my wife! The only thing she cares about more than my health is money, and the things you can buy with money.”

Pluggers, 6/5/08

Oh man, that plume of noxious smoke is just the delicious icing on the “fuck you, hippies”-flavored cake.

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Judge Parker, 5/30/08

“A virus called … reefer madness! How could we resist, when it sold like hotcakes?”

Spider-Man, 5/30/08

Uh-oh! The last time a guy with a mustache like that bellowed “This means war!”, the world was in a heap o’ trouble, for about six years or so.

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Hi and Lois, 5/10/08

Watch out for Lois’s crazy eyes, Hi! This “spontaneity” she’s experiencing is entirely meth-driven. If the completely barren room in which you’re standing is any indication, “cleaning the attic” is a euphemism for “finding everything of any possible resale value there and hocking it to buy more drugs.”

Spider-Man, 5/10/08

I was surprised as anyone to see this Spider-Man storyline start out with the introduction of a supervillain, even though this strip has debased the notion of “supervillain” to the extent that some chump in a dorky bird suit qualifies. Things got more in line with the Spider-Man I know when our hero was felled by the influenza virus, and today we see that our feathered baddy is actually going to stymied by some random swell in a blue tux in his very first post-prison robbery attempt. Thus, the path is open to the real plotline: endless whining from Peter Parker about how nobody needs him and being a superhero is pointless and he’s wracked with ennui and self-loathing and blah blah blah.

Crock, 5/10/08

Gah! I laughed aloud at Crock today! Curses, all my curmudgeonly street cred is gone, gone!

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Gil Thorp, 5/5/08

Well well well, look who’s turned out to be the Mudlarks’ chief nativist! It’s Andrew Gregory, who, I feel obliged to point out, wasn’t such a law-and-order type back when he had a half-drunk Marty Moon pretending to be his father for the benefit of a state social worker. Did Marty’s attempt to teach him the importance of sticking it to the man come to naught? I guess in the A-Train’s hierarchy of faceless, dysfunctional government bureaucracies, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement gets an “honor and obey”, while Social Services rates a “go ahead and mess around with.”

I’m hoping that Marty, flush with his victory in the battle to help underaged Andrew half-competently raise his young siblings without interference from the government, decides to take on Homeland Security for Elmer’s sake. I’m imagining him wearing a huge sombrero and a poncho and spouting quasi-Spanish gibberish like “No es bueno!” and “No mas!” and “Hasta la vista, baby!” It won’t help Elmer at all, of course, but it’ll be hilarious.

Family Circus, 5/5/08

Wow, the Keane Kompound has the most boring wall calendar ever. I guess when your strict religious beliefs regard any depiction of humans, animals, or plants as sin against the Creator, all you’ve got do to entertain yourself is make up sad little stories about the names of the months.

I also question the wisdom of giving a long, pointy stick to a six-year-old, or however old Dolly is supposed to be. At least she’ll probably use it against others, not herself; if Jeffy were wielding it, it’d be buried in his eye in no time.

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 5/5/08

For reasons that I can’t quite verbalize, and hopefully don’t have to, Alan’s thought-balloon whinge in today’s Apartment 3-G was hands-down the funniest thing in the comics section today.

Spider-Man, 5/5/08

…although “Crime-fighting and the flu don’t mix” was a close second. In other developments, we learn that, in his BDSM relationship with his wife, Peter is a bottom. Nobody is surprised.

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Spider-Man, 4/21/08

Behold … the VULTURE! The latest in the rogue’s gallery of sinister, inhuman supervillains to plague the newspaper strip version of Spider-Man, the Vulture terrifies us with his powers … or, um, menacing costume … uh, actually, he just appears to be some ordinary dude in jail mumbling vague threats of vengeance. Since this is Spider-Man, the prison guard is threatening him with the ultimate act of torture: the withdrawal of television privileges.

Blondie, 4/21/08

Attention Amalgamated Blondie Humor Industries LLC: if you are going to do a close-up on one of your characters, as you do in panel three here, please actually draw the character in close-up, rather than just increasing the scale of their face in Photoshop. Otherwise it looks strange and disturbing.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/21/08

Any public official will tell you that there comes a time in a town hall meeting when the thread is simply lost, never to be found again. Rex Morgan, M.D.’s MRSA meeting has hit that point, as angry townsfolk begin to demand that the county health commission bring their loved ones back from the dead.

Pluggers, 4/21/08

Pluggers have no idea what an enormous pain in the ass they are to everyone around them.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/16/08

We’re still in the opening salvos of this Rex Morgan, M.D., storyline, so it’s all deliriously wonderful and such. Don’t worry, it’ll get boring and stupid soon enough, and then I’ll complain about it for a bit until I just start ignoring it completely; but when that day comes, I hope I’ll take some solace in the thought that any plot that contained both Rex’s snide complaint about the common people’s filthy, filthy noses and a bearded, vested man bellowing HOW ARE YOU GOING TO KILL IT can’t possibly have been all bad.

Spider-Man, 4/16/08

The “bad news” Peter Parker warned us about yesterday turns out to be even less superhero-related than usual for this strip. Still, since Peter continually (and some might say passive-aggressively) fails whenever he tries to leave the house to support MJ’s career, you’d think that he’d be pleased by this news. “You mean I can watch your movie right here at home, on the TV? Yes!”

Marvin, 4/16/08

Panel two of today’s Marvin may be the lowest point the art form of comics has achieved to date. It isn’t helped by the fact that the dogs are incongruously standing on their hind legs and towering over Marvin, making them look less like dogs and more like people in dog suits. Urine-soaked dog suits.

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Dick Tracy, 4/12/08

Many have complained that Chief Liz has been relegated to the typical hapless female victim role in the current insane Dick Tracy storyline, despite being, you know, the actual chief of police. Today, she gamely tries her hand at Tracy-style crime fighting by attempting to actually rip the villain’s face off of the front of his skull. She is soon neutralized by a well-place elbow to the chin, but, hey, points for giving it a go.

The Phantom, 4/12/08

Liz needs to take some tips from our lady cop/waitress pair if she really wants to know how to take down a baddie, though: pump hot lead into him, then taunt him as he lies bleeding at your feet. The Ghost Who Only Hires Sadists has a slight smile, indicating that Kay and Hawa have at last passed the callousness threshold needed to enter the Jungle Patrol.

Family Circus, 4/12/08

“Didn’t they know you were a girl, and thus should only have been educated to the extent necessary for child-rearing and food preparation?”

And a couple of fun panels for you:

Panel from Spider-Man, 4/12/08

I wish we could get to see the proceedings of New York State Superior Court, Bribery Division, in which a jury will determine if Simon Krandis can, in fact, buy his way out of prison. Certainly it would be more interesting than the three weeks of Peter Parker whining and watching TV that we’re actually going to get.

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/12/08

Among the small but very enthusiastic group holding a pretty specific fetish, today will go down in history as The Day June Morgan Ate A Cheeseburger With Her Big Sexy Teeth. Rex looks miffed that nobody wants to see a close-up of him pecking away at his spinach salad.

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The Phantom, 4/11/08

As was no doubt easily predictable, I lost interest in the current Phantom storyline rather quickly after all the hilarious Jungle Patrol! catchphrases petered out. (Not that you shouldn’t be stocking up on Jungle Patrol-themed merchandise, mind you.) Basically, our lady cop and waitress have been attempting to capture a notorious arms dealer in an attempt to prove their mettle to the male chauvinist pigs who run the Jungle Patrol; throughout the process, the Ghost Who Is Helpful has been surreptitiously doing much of the heavy lifting in the bad-guy-neutralization department. Some might think that this is unfair affirmative action on the Big Purple Guy’s part to try to get some ladies into his elite law-enforcement outfit, but since everyone in The Phantom other than the Phantom is generally pretty incompetent, I’m guessing that secret help from the Unknown Commander is par for the course on Jungle Patrol missions.

In today’s final panel, though, we learn that these ladies may be a little bloodthirsty even by Jungle Patrol standards. Sure, it’s reasonable for them to return fire, but it does seem like they were just waiting for the chance, doesn’t it? Usually the Phantom lets the baddies off with a little chin music and a Skull Mark™ as a reminder to stay on the straight and narrow, but our Swiss death merchant here looks like he’ll be as full of holes as his nation’s namesake cheese in short order.

Speaking of gunplay, while our lady cop has obviously been through weapons training, when did the waitress learn to fire off handgun rounds with such steely precision? I would have liked to have seen a Rocky-style montage sequence in which she learned the various deadly arts.

Shoe, 4/11/08

“That, plus the transceiver I attached to the bottom of your car in the parking lot, means that we’ll be seein’ a lot of each other! Haw haw!”

Since the earliest days of this blog, I have made it clear that I cannot abide the “sexy” lady birds in this strip. I dunno, there’s something about the combination of beaks and feathers with some distinctly, er, mammalian characteristics that just utterly squicks me out. The attention that’s been lavished on the glimpse we get of this barfly’s lower back isn’t helping me, either.

Spider-Man, 4/11/08

Hey, look, Simon Krandis keeps a fistful of wadded up bribe money in his tuxedo jacket at all times. The man would have made a swell governor!

The final panel is simultaneously the most hilarious and the most fetishistically unsettling image the Spider-Man newspaper strip has produced in the last three years.

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Dick Tracy, 4/5/08

Today we get an all-too-close look at Detective Tracy’s disturbingly unconstitutional M.O. Note that he’s already managed to disable his (unarmed!) opponent with a quick WUNK to the lower back, leaving him UMPing on the floor. Now would be a great time for Dick to leap onto the villain, pinning him to the floor and cuffing him; instead, since the usual next step in his arrest protocol involves pumping his prone, helpless opponent with hot lead, panel three finds him goggle-eyed with panic that he can’t find his gun. The number of Tracy collars who were shot in the back of the head “while trying to escape” must be remarkably high.

Spider-Man, 4/5/08

A handgun is really like the Swiss Army Knife of weapons; not only does it help Dick Tracy eliminate needless arrest paperwork, but gubernatorial candidate Simon Krandis can use one to open jammed car locks! He could, of course, turn it on his antagonist, but that would be exciting, so it won’t happen in this strip.

Hagar the Horrible, 4/5/08

I like the fact that, even though in the first panel Hagar seems to have proved pretty definitively that Snert doesn’t understand Old Norse, he still thought-balloons his dismissive comment in the second panel. You never know, and you don’t want to hurt the dog’s feelings. Any more than they’d already be hurt by forcing him to wear a damn miniature Viking’s helmet, anyway.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/30/08

While Rex does his best to wriggle out of any obligation he might have to fight MRSA, June, it goes without saying, knows what has to be done. Specifically, she’s preparing to protect herself and the clinic from the coming Great Plague by insulating herself behind a wall of hand sanitizer and latex. I look forward to the climax of this story, when the hideous Infected, their flesh falling off in great chunks thanks to MRSA’s ravages, are desperately clawing at the gates to June’s hermetically sealed clinic. June herself, having taken on position of God-Priestess and absolute ruler of the Surviving Clean Ones huddling inside, will be on the ramparts, clad in a hazmat suit and wielding a very large shotgun.

Shoe, 3/30/08

The Elderly, Angry Bird-Man With The Big Beak is quickly becoming my favorite Shoe character. (Admittedly, the competition for this title is not particularly intense.) Earlier this week, we saw him berate a child with nonsense in a vaguely threatening matter; today, beer in hand, he snorts derisively at the delicate sensibilities of us young folks, allowing himself to ruminate fondly on his youth, when he perpetrated acts of unspeakable carnage against the Nazis or striking Wobblies or whoever he fought Back In The Day. The throwaway panels prove that he’s still got it: he probably viciously bludgeoned that poor sap to death with the TV because he talked during Matlock or wore his hair too long or something, and Roz and the Perfersser are too terrified of him to say anything about it.

Spider-Man, 3/30/08

As I’ve frequently noted, the Spider-Man comic strip is some kind of elaborate literary experiment in narrative frustration, carefully designed to prevent anyone from drawing any kind of enjoyment from it on any level whatsoever. Its gamesmanship is all the crueler because it occasionally looks like it might become slightly engrossing, only to dash those hopes soon thereafter. For instance, you might be excited because today’s strip seems to imply that all of the major players in this painful storyline, including Spider-Man himself, are about to be killed by electrocution, thus ending the strip forever. But don’t worry: by Tuesday, the drama will have been resolved in the least interesting way imaginable, probably due to someone tripping and falling.

Family Circus, 3/30/08

Ha ha! Today’s Family Circus proves that Jeffy is dumber than a dog — dumber than a dog named Barfy.

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Spider-Man, 2/12/08

Say, have you ever wondered what it would have been like if Casablanca ended not with Rick shooting Major Strasser and Captain Renault covering up for it, but with Rick hitting him in the back of the head and barely knocking him unconscious, after which the two of them just jauntily walk off to enjoy their last few hours of freedom before being sent to a concentration camp? Well, today’s Spider-Man is for you, sort of!

This is not to say that Spider-Man is a Nazi, as my scenario would imply. The Nazis may have been the most evil regime in history, but at least they did stuff. If all Hitler did was sit around watching TV and complaining about the Jews and their terrible sitcoms, the world would be a much better place.

Marmaduke, 2/12/08

Since there’s no way an actual plunger could be holding a bone in place like that, I’m going to guess that the problem found by Aace Plumbing is that Marmaduke’s family’s “plunger” is actually a ghastly trophy made out of a human femur. Possibly the femur of the last plumber who got too nosy.

Gil Thorp, 2/12/08

Well, now we know: Andrew Gregory is Tyler Jay with a longer head. The spit-curl resemblance is really uncanny; perhaps this is the haircut assigned to all new mentally unbalanced Gil Thorp characters. In panel two, the A-Train actually appears to be literally unbalanced as well, covering up his inability to stand up straight with his usual demented patter.

Judger Parker, 2/12/08

For those of you not following along with Judge Parker at home (and really, who could blame you if you aren’t), Gloria is giving Sam a more or less accurate recap of the story of How Steve Lost His Legs, as told to her by Steve in detail, which recounting we saw in this very comic strip mere days ago. I look forward to seeing Sam tell Abbey next week, who’ll tell Biff Dickens, who’ll tell his wife, and so an and so forth. It’ll be like a game of telephone, only this is Judge Parker, so it’ll be a boring game where the information doesn’t get changed in the retelling.

Garfield, 2/12/08

Comics in which Garfield drolly remarks on his sodomization by ice-cold thermometers = comedy gold. I’m totally serious about this.

Mark Trail, 2/12/08

yes bears bears bears bears RISE UP AND DEVOUR YOUR HUMAN OPPRESSOR, MY URSINE FRIEND

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Ziggy, 2/11/08

Every once in a while, something deeply strange and more than a little bit wonderful peeks out at you from the cracks in the tired old surface of a long-running comic strip. Today, Ziggy, having long failed in his quest to make human friends, and routinely mocked and derided by his own pets, is searching for companionship from a machine, which, he sadly believes, will be able to soothe his loneliness. But he’s not satisfied with the run-of-the-mill answering machines that merely record phone messages and play them back at the touch of a button; instead, he’s searching for an advanced model with basic decision-making abilities. In so doing, he touches on a philosophical dilemma that has troubled great thinkers for centuries: can truly rewarding affection come from an entity lacking free will? If Ziggy’s answering machine is forced by its programming to love him, can what it feels truly be said to be “love” at all, rather than mere slavish devotion? But, on the other hand, if the answering machine is allowed to decide on its own what to feel about Ziggy, won’t it respond with the same mixture of pity and disgust universally held by the service employees, animals, and newspaper readers who encounter him daily?

Dick Tracy, 2/11/08

I was going to laugh mightily at Dick Tracy’s decision to make up, and then explain in a footnote, a completely nonexistent slang term for being nefariously rendered unconscious by a baddie with a roofie and/or a dart gun, but then I consulted Urban Dictionary and found that “smacked” can mean getting high from smoking marijuana or taking Ecstasy. While this doesn’t necessarily conflict with the narrator-supplied definition of “foreign substance in system,” it obviously puts an entirely different spin on the scenario: the problem is not so much a stealthy, sinister baddie willing to do anything to kidnap the Chief, but rather an out-of-control drug problem that’s affected even the police force’s most elite officers. Fortunately, once Chief Liz has been recovered, Dick Tracy will deal with the hippie slacker responsible, probably with the butt of his pistol.

Gil Thorp, 2/11/08

OH SWEET SWEET SWEET lunging out of the mental hospital and into the third panel at a bizarre, inexplicable angle: it’s self-bashing Tyler! Who, uh, looks actually pretty much exactly like Andrew Gregory. Really, is there a Valley Conference rule that says that one spit-curled player must be on the court at all times?

Spider-Man, 2/11/08

Oh, man, no matter how often Spider-Man is felled by getting hit in the back of a head with a lead pipe with absolutely no warning from his spider-sense, it never gets old. Never.

Mary Worth, 2/11/08

do it Drew do it just turn the wheel a little to the left LIFE’S NOT WORTH LIVING do it do it do it

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Panels from Apartment 3-G, 2/10/08

Margo knows that a big crowd is best primed to appreciate fine art when it’s very, very drunk.

Panels from Curtis, 2/10/08

Actual conversation I had just moments ago with my wife, who went to a Quaker college:

Me: Hey, sweetie, did you know that Curtis learned about Quakers in school today?

Her: Why was Curtis in school today? It’s the weekend.

Me: [Sound of mind being completely blown]

Panel from Spider-Man, 2/10/08

THIS JUST IN: Spider-Man is not, in fact, an elephant.

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Archie, 2/1/08

Uh-oh, looks like the Archie Joke-Generating Laugh Unit 3000 has found a way to connect its cybernetic consciousness to broadcast TV! How else can we explain the grotesquely overwrought mugging for the “camera” in panels one and three? The AJGLU 3000 must think we organic consciousnesses live our lives out in some sort of awful state of constant performance, always exaggerating our reactions to everyday events to amuse an unseen chorus of canned laughter that chortles at our hoary jokes and slow burns. No wonder it holds us in such obvious contempt.

Dennis the Menace, 2/1/08

I know that it makes me both a crude and a bad person, but I find something distinctly but nonspecifically dirty (in the “dirty joke” sense) about today’s Dennis the Menace caption. Joey appears to be trying to wrap his tiny little brain about just what exactly it might mean.

Apartment 3-G, 2/1/08

Hey, Alan, that’s just the sort of thing that some of us are into, OK?

Speaking of things that some of us are into, Blaze has been looking resplendent in his dusty rose/baby blue westernwear combination for the past few days. It’s as if the artist sent a note to the coloring crew saying, “I know we already named him ‘Blaze’ and have him walking around New York dressed as a cowboy for no good reason, but could you make it a little more … obvious?”

Mary Worth, 2/1/08

This is one of the most vile, disgusting, and repugnant things I’ve ever seen in all my years of reading Mary Worth. Honestly, the nerve of these people, putting this in the newspaper where children can see it. Don’t they know that Ryan is Vera’s boss, thus making their relationship intradepartmental dating, not interdepartmental dating? I mean, good gracious!

The implication that days at the Affect Advertising Agency are little more than nonstop orgies, on the other hand, is all good fun. We really should have expected it, anyway, what with Vera’s first day consisting mostly of grab-ass.

Spider-Man, 2/1/08

So, Spider-Man is using an jailed criminal associate of Simon Krandis as bait to attract the Persuader’s attention, making appear as if he (the criminal associate) was being shuttled to the governor for a pardon. Naturally, the Persuader pulled a sixteen-wheeler in front of the van in which said prisoner was being transported and then sucked the van into the trailer using powerful magnets. And now Spidey claims that this is “just what [he] expected.” Uh huh.

I don’t mean to doubt the word of superheroes or anything, but nothing I’ve seen out of Peter Parker has indicated particular cunning or intelligence. This is a guy who forgets that he has his costume on under his clothes when he goes to the doctor, who forgets that his costume is in his luggage when traveling through airport security, and who thinks that his wife making lots of money as a movie star is a bad thing. Thus, I’m going to guess that he did not in fact predict the magnetized kidnapping of this van, which is quite honestly the most surprising thing to happen in this strip in the past year and a half. His bizarre stab at punnery in panel two — “Let the good times roll! … just like, um, we were, rolled into this truck? Get it?” — is a mask for his total state of flabbergasted surprise. Those wavy lines aren’t his raging spider-sense; they’re ordinary human panic.

Mark Trail, 2/1/08

Speaking of stupid people, Mark sure watched that plane (whose passengers just shot at him mere moments ago, let me remind you) get all North By Northwesty for quite a while before deciding to jump for it. Andy looks to be a bit farther out of the capsizing canoe than Mark; I’d like to believe that he leapt out before his master’s beyond obvious command, and will now run for the forest without a care for how his dim bulb owner made out.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/8/08

The current Rex Morgan plotline got exciting some weeks back and, as is ever the case when that happens, I immediately lost interest. I discussed this phenomenon, which I call The Rex Morgan Problem, a while back, and here it comes around again just like clockwork. I think part of the problem is that “exciting” is really not something these strips do well. Ludicrous? Overwrought? Brimming with unspoken and petty resentments? Cryptohomoerotic? Yes, yes, yes, and you’d better believe that’s a yes. Exciting? Not so much.

Anyway, speaking of unspoken resentments, I do kind of love Niki’s expression in panel three. To quickly sum up several weeks of ostensibly exciting developments, Niki was briefly left alone in the cabin with one the escaped prisoners, who tried to relate to him as a fellow lowlife and offered him some stolen cash to switch sides; Niki refused because of his fear of letting Rex down. In today’s final panel, he looks to be contemplating the fact that right now he could be (a) warm, (b) dry, (c) rich, and (d) about to be embarking on an awesome cross-country crime spree instead of trudging through the dark, wet woods with a sullen and vaguely creepy doctor.

Spider-Man, 1/8/08

Speaking of non-exciting “excitement,” Spider-Man has actually toyed with superhero-on-villain action for the past few days. I refuse to label the Persuader a “supervillain” despite his descriptive one-word name, because he wears street clothes and his only “power” is his unusual stature; still, he’s proved more than a match for Spidey, escaping from his spiderwebs and failing to get in the way of the web-slinger’s wildly misdirected web-slinging. Maybe it’s time to admit that Peter Parker’s longstanding refusal to fight crime or even get off of the couch comes not from laziness or apathy but of a crippling fear of exactly this sort of inevitable failure and humiliation. The self-esteem issues that would naturally arise go a long way towards explaining his eternal passive-aggressive attitude towards any hint of his wife’s success.

Dennis the Menace, 1/8/08

The teacher in green’s wide, crazy eyes are more terrifyingly menacing than anything Dennis has done in my lifetime. She looks like she’s about to go on a killing spree, and, even more troubling, that she’ll testify that Dennis’ fairly tame caricature spoke to her and told her which of her students should live and which should die.

Gil Thorp, 1/8/08

“Frankly, it smacks of math. And the last thing I want my players wasting their time with is math. That’s why we have the poindexters who sit at the scorer’s table!”

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I know I said I was going to gloss over the strips that ran during my vacation, but, you know, I had to read them, at least the ones that have continuing storylines, if I didn’t want to be totally lost, and once I started reading them, well, some of them just were really calling out for the treatment and … I know, it’s a sickness. Anyway, here, quickly, are the high points of December 23 through January 1!

Judge Parker, 12/24/07

A very gratuitous Christmas came a day early for Abbey Spencer fans. I know that when most of you ladies have a sudden, drug-induced urge to paint your study, you want to slip into something more comfortable — like a halter top and a pair of Daisy Dukes so tight that you’re actually incapable of standing up straight.

Mary Worth, 12/24/07

Chester’s real owner apparently stole him away and, unbeknownst to Mary, replaced him with a plastic replica, if his weird sitting-in-midair position in panel one is any indication.

Spider-Man, 12/24/07

Peter Parker, meanwhile, got the best gift a boy could get: A trip to prison! Oh boy!

Christmas Day usually sees some variously awkward greetings shoehorned into different strips. My two favorites from 2007 were Dick Tracy, which heralded the birth of Our Savior with a scene of a collapsing building and an excitable workingman blathering about being pelted with corpses:

…and Gil Thorp, which proudly featured a set of cramped, noseless horrors that made last year’s Christmas card look museum-worthy:

For Better Or For Worse, 12/26/07

Meanwhile, Anthony has figured out a way to make little Francie accept her new mommy: force her to watch their bland, noodly sexual congress.

Gil Thorp, 12/28/07

Gil Thorp promises to break new dramatic ground in the new year by featuring a high school-aged student-athlete who is arrogant and unpleasant! (And yet how can we hate anyone who throws around put-downs like “climb down off your dinosaur”?)

Mark Trail, 12/29/07

A terminally ill Luke Wilson said, “Don’t waste your time, Trail,” by which he obviously means “Let’s not over-stimulate your readers with any kind of action or excitement when I can just tell them all what happened and then expire quietly.” No word yet on whether Mark will punch his corpse.

Panels from Apartment 3-G, 12/30/07

Margo added another bullet point to her résumé of personal destruction: enabler!

Panel from Judge Parker, 12/30/07

Sam proved, as if we need any more evidence, that he has no intention of having sex with his wife ever again.

For Better Or For Worse, 1/1/08

And, in the first moments of 2008, April took a good, long look at Gerald’s penis. She looks troubled by what she sees.

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Luann, 12/19/07

Check out Toni’s right hand. Anything weird about it? A little off? No? How about the fact that it appears to be almost two-thirds as long as the whole rest of her arm? I know she’s a cartoon character with, for instance, weird beady little eyes and an impossibly large mouth, but there’s something about her hand that’s creeping me out. Urrrgggh.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I really hope Brad and Toni are overcome by the festiveness of their costumes and end up playing “bad Santa and naughty elf.” Not because I want to see or even imagine their erotic congress, mind you, but I just want it over with. Please. The sexual tension between these two is not hot. It’s soooo very un-hot and queasy-making, and the inhumanly large hand ISN’T HELPING. Just do it already, you two, because it will be terrible and awkward and you’ll never do it again and then we can all rest easy.

Spider-Man, 12/19/07

The sad thing is that the six weeks of Google searches to which we’re about be treated are actually preferable to the alternative, which is of course six weeks of Peter Parker whining at the TV. At least Spider-Man will actually be doing something, even if it’s just typing. I love the way the flat-screen monitor is dramatically foregrounded in the final panel, as if to say, “Here, dear reader! Here is the true hero of this strip! Behold, the Internet!”

Slylock Fox, 12/19/07

Remember, everyone, you don’t need to spend big money on tickets to Stomp! You can just recreate it in your own home! Also, children as young as eighteen months can be trained to make margaritas.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 12/19/07

I have a note in my calendar that today’s TDIET is from faithful reader Tili; if so, stand up and take a bow! I am in full solidarity with you, my night owl brother or sister. The Man tells you that you should get up early and go to bed early, but without late night toiling where would we be? This blog would be short quite a few posts, I’ll tell you that much.

Marmaduke, 12/19/07

Do you ever get the feeling that the creator of Marmaduke is just totally bonkers? Well, today’s comic is not going to disabuse you of that notion.

Hey, remember when I speculated on a Sally Forth-Shortpacked crossover? Behold my power over the world of cartooning!

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Judge Parker, 12/9/07

OK, Judger Parker, we get it, we get it. There’s something significant about these damn brownies, seeing as the dialog and the authorial gaze has lingered on them for most of this week. If this were an exciting strip, they’d be laced with knockout drugs so that Abbey’s plane-flying, chicken-growing neighbors could kidnap her for their nefarious purposes, or perhaps some kind of mind-control serum so that they could force her to do her bidding. But this is Judge Parker, so perhaps the message they’re trying to get across is that “brownies are yummy.”

Mary Worth, 12/8/07

Chester the dog: Hero, or greatest hero in American history?

Panel from Spider-Man, 12/8/07

Not to get ahead of myself on the comments of the week, but nothing I could say about this awesome panel can possibly match this from faithful reader Gold-Digging Nanny:

The comics syndicate should just eliminate Spider-Man’s bio from their website and substitute today’s panel two. That’s all you ever need to know about Spider-Man.

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Judge Parker, 11/26/07

All hopes that a Judge Parker comic might contain something interesting happening — like, say, a deranged Biff Dickens believing that he’s buzzing the trenches on the Western Front and strafing Sam and Abbey — will of course be dashed. What I’m kind of sad about is that Abbey has been too busy freaking out about her daughter’s burgeoning sexuality to notice that an airstrip was being built right next door to the farm where all her precious pretty ponies frolic. Just think of the exciting action that could have transpired if she had gone to the county meetings to try to block Biff’s permit! The whole thing would have ended up in court, of course, with Abbey represented by Sam, and the newly elected Judge Parker Jr. presiding and handing the case to his ex-partner and campaign manager with a wink. Sadly, whatever plot is actually going to arise is going to be even less interesting than that.

Spider-Man, 11/26/07

Far be it for me to suggest that Peter Parker use his mutant spider-strength (do they say that?) and other superpowers to go on a killing spree (great power, great responsibility, blah blah blah) … but say just for sake of argument that Spidey did take the Persuader apart like a cheap watch, which I assume means, I don’t know, that his outside would be cracked open and enough of his insides would fall out that he wouldn’t work anymore. Since the only person to see him open the proportional can of whoop-ass of a spider would now be dead and dismembered, wouldn’t Peter Parker’s secret identity still be safe? Unless, of course, this blatant act of Persuasion is not taking place in an empty alleyway as the first panel implies, but rather before a crowd of indifferent witnesses. “Say, Phyllis, look over there at that hulking ruffian attempting to stake a claim over that wimp’s wife by force. Darwin in action, ya know? Kid should try that Charles Atlas program!”

Slylock Fox, 11/26/07

Is Harry Ape the same guy as the maroon-suited gorilla-pimp we saw Slylock lasso a couple of weeks ago? If so, he’s fallen a long way, stealing a vanity (possibly the least butch piece of furniture possible) from Foo Foo Cat for his mommy. Actually, with the original owner having a name like “Foo Foo Cat,” purple is probably a much more macho color for the vanity than whatever it was before he painted it. I’m assuming that the squat, besotted thing clutching Harry’s gut is the aforementioned mommy, though I didn’t think that apes demonstrated such striking sexual dimorphism.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 11/26/07

You might recall from previous TDIET appearances that “Kimberly A. Coe” is faithful Comics Curmudgeon reader Trotzenbonnie. She shares with us the tale of her latest triumph:

I sent several ideas to Mr. Scaduto way back in February and he used two but rejected the third. I have a feeling that he just didn’t get it. Well, a few weeks ago I received a copy of the cartoon he worked up for the rejected idea with the attached note: “Hi, Kimberly — A situation similar to your cartoon idea happened to my wife and myself — Our grandson told us to be careful — wipe feet etc. entering his dorm … which was a close second to a hurricane-hit shack in appearance — Thank you for your idea — and Best Ever — Al Scaduto.”
Can you believe that? How the man managed to remember that I sent the idea to him months ago was marvel enough in itself. But he also gave me credit for the cartoon which was totally unnecessary since he decided to work it up based on his own experience. The man is a true prince among men — at least out of all of the men who draw cartoons for a living.

Not to ruin any surprises or anything, but I’ve gotten advance notice from enough readers to know that our dominance of TDIET is going to be particularly strong over the next couple of months. I consider the introduction and endearment this feature to my readers to frankly be one of my greatest achievements.

Blondie, 11/26/07

Dagwood is going to get his carpool high.

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Dick Tracy, 11/13/07

This week’s award for worst punctuated sentence containing unnecessary exposition: “But why Tracy? Why, me, the mayor?”

Hagar the Horrible, 11/13/07

Straightforward responses to honest questions: Not funny. Straightforward responses to honest questions on a desert island: Funny!

No, wait, I meant not funny. My mistake.

Mark Trail, 11/13/07

“I’ll fix him with my bare hands … which I’ll use to remove my pants!”

Spider-Man, 11/13/07

All future Spider-Man strips will consist entirely of the title character aimlessly web-slinging around New York as he explains what has already happened and what’s about to happen in the current plot. This change will represent a marked improvement.

Family Circus, 11/13/07

Ha ha! Jeffy thinks he’s going to college!

Wizard of Id, 11/13/07

Ha ha! This peasant is so terrified at the prospect of being strangled to death that he fainted!

Mary Worth, 11/13/07

HOLY CRAP THAT DOG’S FACE IS THE SCARIEST THING I’VE SEEN ALL DAY

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Spider-Man, 11/6/07

Oh, thank God, Spider-Man is here to crack the case with the proportional Google-searching ability … of a spider! With its, uh, many legs, all the better to tap out Google query after Google query with. The sad thing is that this exact set of ground-breaking detection techniques was also on display a month ago in Gil Thorp. Except that the Milford kids are are a bunch of no-talent losers with nothing better to do but sit around surfing the net all day, while Spider-Man is … oh, wait. At least Peter Parker is offering us some beefcake action by leaving his old man pajamas unbuttoned. In a few years, there will inevitably be a romance novel that features someone on its cover passionately Googling something, and it will look a little something like this. Only better drawn.

Mary Worth, 11/6/07

Something very, very deep inside Mary Worth caused her to offer to pay good money to save the life of some dumb dog, and in panel two you can tell that she’s fighting it with every fiber of her being. She can barely choke out the part of the sentence after “I’ll”; her teeth are gritted so fiercely that her face is transformed into a grim, deathly rictus (more so than usual, I mean); and her hand is clutching at the black, empty hole where her heart is supposed to be. And there will be payback. Oh yes, there will be payback. That dog is going to wish it died on the side of the road with a modicum of dignity.

9 Chickweed Lane, 11/6/07

Hot, hot possible thing Francis will be asking Diane to “indulge” him in: Hot, hot and totally papally sanctioned ex-priest-on-ex-nun-side-of-the-road sex in the back seat.

Horrifying and disturbing and more probable thing Francis will be asking Diane to “indulge” him in: “…so I told Thorax he could tag along on our wedding night. Hope that’s OK!”

Apartment 3-G, 11/6/07

YES PLEASE YES THE DAY OF WRATH APPROACHES

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The Phantom, 11/4/07

I’m not a big defense policy expert or anything, but I’m pretty sure the US Air Force is not in the business of handing out free jet fuel to random Vietnam War-era aircraft, no matter how friendly the country is whose flag is painted on the tail. Perhaps Bangalla is willing to turn a blind eye “enhanced interrogation techniques” (likely, if the slap-happy antics of the Unknown Commander are any indication) and demands payment in sweet, sweet petroleum products.

The Phantom NEXT! boxes are pretty generally awesome, but few have brought me as much pleasure as today’s. “Avast, swabbies! Be sure ye be wearing yer film badge dosimeter, lest ye suffer from radiation sickness! Ahhhr!”

Zits and The Middletons, 11/4/07

At last, two Sunday comics that aren’t afraid to admit the hard truth about teenagers: that they’re nothing but barely controlled hormone-soaked lust-beasts. Today’s Zits honestly hits a little too close to home for me, as one of my high school’s guidance counselors was a primary subject in my teenage fantasy life, which I’m sure was also true for most of the other boys and several of the girls. Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately, in the interests of me having coherent conversations about college application essays), I was assigned the other guidance counselor, who was a avuncular fiftysomething dude, and who was very nice but whose naked lower back I was frankly glad to never see unprompted in my mind’s eye.

Today’s Middletons is an instructional example of how the throwaway panels at the beginning of a strip (so named because some newspapers remove them to make layout easier) can really change the tone of a comic. The complete strip today offers a poignant look at that moment when young people are on the cusp of adulthood, beginning to think of grown-up matters while still clinging to childish things. But the version in my paper started with the “Cool clouds” panel, and thus was basically two teenagers talking about girls they want to bang. On the bright side, Baltimore Sun readers were spared the unsettling undertones of the “do you want to see the frog in my pocket” exchange.

Judge Parker, 11/4/07

Speaking of raging hormones, I’m getting pretty tired of every improbably proportioned female in this strip hurling herself at Sam Driver. His wife I can sort of understand (though you think she’d have given up by now), but what Sam’s got that justifies, say, Trudi lunging at him lips-first in the next-to-last panel is beyond me. It’s like he’s doused himself in some chemical that makes him irresistible to women (“reverse alcohol,” in the memorable formulation of Dinosaur Comics) — not because he wants to seduce them, but because he enjoys rejecting and humiliating them. If I want twisted, passive-aggressive psychodrama in a serial strip, I’ll read Mary Worth, thank you very much.

Spider-Man, 11/4/07

Not being evil myself, I wasn’t aware that a lack of sleepiness was one of the benefits of pledging one’s allegiance to the dark side. Think of all the extra sinister plotting — or, alternately, dusting and laundry — you could do with that extra eight hours a day! It does not, however, come as a big surprise to me that Peter Parker would rather snooze than fight evil.

Hi and Lois, 11/4/07

The creators of Hi and Lois do not appear to understand how and by whom municipal tax rates are set.

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Crankshaft, 11/2/07

I know that life in the now temporally disjointed Funky Winkerbean/Crankshaft space/time continuum is a nonstop parade of ghastliness, but I do thinks the expressions of shock and despair sported by the two poor saps in panel three are bit overblown. They look less like “contemplating yet another one of the ’Shaft’s asinine schemes” and more like “just freed from a multiday hostage ordeal.” Or, to put it another way, less like “contemplating yet another one of the ’Shaft’s asinine schemes” and more like “actually watching one of the ’Shaft’s asinine schemes put into action, only many small children have been tied to the tree limbs before it was set alight.” I guess the inhabitants Funkyworld are always imagining the absolute worst-case-scenario for their lives at any given moment, and with good reason.

Dennis the Menace, 11/2/07

Oh, ho ho! That Dennis the Menace! Mr. Wilson is a fat lump, and Dennis isn’t afraid to point it out! He has no sense of social propriety! Ho ho!

OK, now that we’ve got that out of the way, please tell me the planet on which the following exchange would not be creepy and inappropriate:

Mr. Wilson looks disgruntled not because the neighbor brat has insulted his appearance (he’s sadly used to that by now) but because he’s suddenly realized that his increasingly senile wife has accidentally gotten out the “special” photo album. OH MY GOD MARTHA DON’T TURN THE PAGE!

Judge Parker, 11/2/07

Longtime readers of Judge Parker know that Sophie (here looking more disturbingly like a tiny monkey than ever) has a problem with voyeurism; recall this installment from one artist and 22 months ago (I think that works out to three days in JP’s internal chronology), in which Sophie gloats over having seen Neddy make out with her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend. At least that was just good clean trembling-on-the-edge-of-puberty curiosity and fun, and neither of the kissees was married to her adopted mother. But don’t worry, Sam! Her lips are sealed! Now let’s talk about a raise in her allowance. Indian personal assistants don’t come cheap, you know.

(By the way, those of you who chortled at JP’s Raju storyline as unrealistic should probably read this.)

Marmaduke, 11/2/07

I’d really like to believe that the white band around Dottie’s waist is the broad white belt that the artist intended us to see, and not the result of her pants falling down so we can see her ass crack and garters. Really, I would. But somehow I don’t think I’m going to be able to pull it off.

On the other hand, I’m very pleased to see Marmaduke revealed as a three-headed demon hound.

Spider-Man, 11/2/07

I really am constantly impressed by Spider-Man’s ability to disappoint me. Just when I think my standards for the strip couldn’t possibly be lower, suddenly some new plot twist comes along to indicate that things are going to be much, much lamer than even I could imagine. Take the Persuader, here. When his upcoming appearance was hyped in a NEXT! box a Sunday or two ago, I was convinced that he was going to be a costumed supervillain of some sort — a spectacularly goofy one, to be sure, à la the Shocker, but a supervillain nonetheless. But now we see that he’s just a beefy guy in a suit. OOOH! He’s blows up newspaper trucks! He cleans his fingernails with a knife! He has a vaguely Hitler-esque haircut! SCARY!!!

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Apartment 3-G, 11/1/07

OH SNAP!

I mean, literally. Snap. There’s a big “snap” there in the second panel.

For some reason.

It’s not like “snap” is the noise a phone makes when you hang it up or something.

Kind of weird.

Anyway.

This little tiff does nothing to dissuade me from rooting for the inevitable Margo-Sam pairing. We all like a little drama in our fictional romances, am I right? They’re the Tracy and Hepburn of the new millennium, as indicated by the fact that Margo is trying to haul off and punch Sam in the second panel. Ha ha, silly Margo! You can’t punch a person through the phone! Sadly, technology has not advanced to that point yet.

Spider-Man, 11/1/07

So do we have to add anti-Hellenism to Spider-Man’s long list of crimes? So many of the traditional libels against the Greek people — that they control the media, that they enjoy blowing up innocent newspaper trucks, that they have a weakness for hideous faux-Rococo decor, that their inordinate vanity drives them to sculpt their eyebrows into upswept, Romulan-style points — are on display here. I’d be outraged if Spider-Man didn’t as a rule lull me into a state of ennui-tinged semi-consciousness.

Mary Worth, 11/1/07

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD MARY IS GOING TO TAKE THIS INJURED DOG BACK TO HER APARTMENT AND NURSE IT BACK TO HEALTH! You read it here first. She’ll use it as a proud emblem of her newfound philosophy that we should love with “simplicity and purity,” as the animals do. Then, of course, the inappropriate urination will begin.

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Slylock Fox, 10/14/07

Hey, everybody! Cassandra’s back! She’s dressed sexily but still fairly demurely in her pedal-pushers and sensible sandals (though of course you can buy a t-shirt with her in a much groovier get-up). Today’s Cassie adventure reveals only the depth of Slylock’s total obsession with her. The poor cat’s barely gotten to the point of filling out her police report paperwork and the Fox has already broken and entered into her place, no doubt predisposed to ignore her plea to help. He probably moved the dust around just to spite her. And the “bad housekeeping” jibe is just cruel. She’s a sexy cat about town with a full social calendar, detective. Just because you have tons of free time to dust your place while fantasizing about gorgeous she-felines that no jail can hold doesn’t mean her life is snoresville.

Anyway, I hope that kids read this and learn how to perpetrate a successful insurance fraud. I also hope Max is enjoying his time staring at Cassandra’s ass.

Apartment 3-G, 10/14/07

Oh my God, Tommie made a funny! Mark your calendars, everybody!

I’m pretty much in love with everything about this strip, even though exactly nothing happens in it. I love Tommie’s little joke, I love the fact that Lu Ann and Tommie are fully dressed while Margo is just crawling out of bed (it’s probably 3:30 in the afternoon), I love the forceful period, a tiny black singularity of disgruntlement, at the end of Margo’s “fine” in panel six. I also love how damn happy Lu Ann is. She apparently is no longer concerned about her brain damage and resulting memory loss, although it’s possible she’s already forgotten about it. Based on her outfit, she’s also forgotten that she’s a big old prude as well.

Family Circus, 10/14/07

The self-referential causality loop that this strip is locked into is already a bit of a mind-bender, but what really pushes it over the edge is the little signature conversation at the bottom right. Daddy and Jeffy are having a nice little condescending put-down of moronic big brother Billy (who’s based on respected Disney animator Glen Keane). And then they use his joke anyway, while still pointing out that it sucks. It’s philosophical and dysfunctional all at once!

Spider-Man, 10/14/07

The world of journalism was shocked when Peter Parker, a virtually unknown freelancer, won the Pulitzer Prize for Feature Photography for his “The Other America” series. But nobody who saw those photographs of the people standing in line to receive their unemployment insurance checks doubted that he deserved it. The range of expressions in the photographs — running the gamut from hopefulness to grim determination to despair to fear — was captured tenderly in what one critic called “an emotional tour de force.” So why, when Parker got on stage to accept his award, did he conclude his short speech by thanking J. Jonah Jameson? The pictures hadn’t run in the Bugle. Nobody at the awards dinner could understand it, though those sitting near the flamboyant flat-topped editor reported that he bit down particularly hard on his unlit cigar when Parker said it.

Crankshaft, 10/14/07

Hey, look, it’s Crankshaft’s ass! That’s what America wanted more of, apparently. Who knew?

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/7/07

More often than not, when I mention to people that I’m a fan of Rex Morgan, M.D., and similar strips, it completely boggles their mind. “But how can you force yourself to read that boring crap day after day?” is generally the sort of thing they ask me. Days like today are the payoffs that keep me going. Sure, the final panel, with Rex going into such paroxysms of shock and horror that his face is about to collapse in on itself, would be hilarious even without context, but you really need to backstory to appreciate all the other psychodrama going on here — everyone’s sneering at Rex’s mothball-scented bid to match his father’s rugged outdoorsmanship, and Niki blowing the whole thing to bits with his city-kid need for creature comforts.

In a conventional narrative, Rex and Niki’s initial antagonism on the trip would eventually soften into mutual compromise — Rex would wow Niki with his fly-casting skills, and Niki would teach Rex hip youth-culture lingo like “radical” and “extreme”; and maybe Niki would help Rex understand why the good doctr needs his dead father’s approval so badly, and that a situation where one is waist-deep in water and short on food isn’t necessarily a Katrina survivor’s idea of fun. But this is Rex Morgan, M.D., a strip whose hero never even tries to grow as a person or engage in a single moment of self-reflection. Niki will be made to hate fishing every bit as much as young Rex did, only to try to force it on his own son years later for reasons he can only dimly grasp. Thank God Sarah Morgan was born a girl, and is thus forever safe from Rex’s relentless Pygmalionesque schemes.

Mary Worth, 10/7/07

And sometimes the hoary old soaps can deliver perfect moments of emo pathos. I have to admit that, while the grinding gears of Mary Worth plot changes are generally audible from miles away, I’m not sure whether this is meant to be a capstone on l’affaire Drew or a setup for more heartstring-pulling to come. Either way, though, I’m going to enjoy imagining these roses sitting on Dawn’s dresser, withering more and more each day, but staying in their vase until they’re reduced to a skeletal mess, and Dawn seeming to draw more and more strength from their death until she’s more powerful than Drew could possibly imagine.

One Big Happy, 10/7/07

Ha ha, this is some of the most dick-tastic dad action in the funnies since — well, since Rex Morgan. One could argue that the point of a school-assigned spelling lists is to teach children how to spell, not how to memorize arbitrary lists of words just long enough to pass a test, and that we should be impressed that Joe has actually managed to get his little pea brain around the concept of homonyms. But then we wouldn’t have gotten to see Joe squirm about in his usual learning-avoiding contortions. Dad’s shown himself to be more of a math guy, anyway.

Spider-Man, 10/7/07

This strip is notable solely for panel five, which contains a passable likeness of Leonardo DiCaprio that apparently absorbed all of the artist’s celebrity-drawing abilities, as nobody else at this “Hollywood costume party” is even remotely recognizable as someone famous. But while I’m here, I might as well point out that this is yet another example of the most irritating weapon in Spider-Man’s narrative arsenal: the dilemma that solves itself in a day or two with no intervention from the protagonist whatsoever (see here for a particularly egregious example from a couple of years ago). In this light, it’s probably impossible to believe that the typically dramatic NEXT! box will live up to its promise. “You can’t go home again — or can you? Oh, wait, actually, I was right the first time. It turns out that you can. Never mind!”

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Gil Thorp, 10/5/07

My God, what kind of Google search results for “Culver Vale” would be so shocking to Howard Gourwitz that we would be treated to the vision of each and every one of his upper teeth? Obviously mere text couldn’t elicit a reaction of such visceral horror; no, Howard has clearly plugged “Culver Vale” into Google image search. In my unrelenting quest for the truth, and with total disregard for my personal safety, I bravely chose to do the same, and received one and only one result:

“Look at this, Tony! Cully allowed himself to be photographed wearing a conservative suit, and squatting and presumably defecating behind the flag of Oregon! And to think we’ve shared a locker room with this sicko!”

Tony’s search results may have been skewed by the addition of the word “stud”, as the dialog in panel one implies. And no, I’m not searching on that. Bravery has its limits.

Dick Tracy, 10/5/07

OK, now that this Dick Tracy plot appears to be wrapping up, I can say officially that none of it makes any sense. The East German Soviet Sympathizers (EGSSes) kidnapped the Gretchen to exchange for the Baron … why? Once the Baron wandered off, Dick and the CIA guys started treating the EGSSes as sympathetic … why? Gretchen claimed to be giving the CIA guys the frequency to the chip in the Baron’s head, but actually gave the frequency to the chip in her head … WHY? Gretchen had a chip in her head … WHY??

But most of all, what the hell does “trying to revive to Cold War and blame it on Mideastern terrorists” even mean? I’m sure the EGSSes don’t actually want the Cold War back; they just want a different ending for it. Were their ex-Soviet puppet masters going to look at the smoldering wreckage of the Rotunda on the TVs in their underground bunker and chortle “Ha ha, the Americans soon will be invading another Middle Eastern country, but we and we alone secretly know that the Cold War is back on! Long live the dictatorship of the proletariat!”

Spider-Man, 10/5/07

Yes, you … you forgot about airport security. And because you’ve put your spider-suit in your suitcase, and it could easily be written off as a Halloween costume (which I believe is what happened when you flew to LA), the only hitch this puts in your plans is that it might cause you to miss your plane … which … has … nothing to do with superheroics whatsoever argh argh ARGH! Honestly, this strip constantly manages to defy my ability to parody its lameness.

Pluggers, 10/5/07

A plugger’s face is a mass of lacerations and barely-scabbed-over wounds. But at least he’s getting his money’s worth out of that 60 cent disposable razor!

Archie, 10/5/07

I’m sure your beverage choices are very interesting, Betty, but let me offer you some advice, one blogger to another: I think your readers will be more interested if you skip to the part where you explain why you aren’t wearing pants.

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Archie, 10/2/07

Huh, the Archie Joke-Generating Laugh Unit 3000 seems to have put the wrong dialogue into today’s cartoon. Here, let me fix that:

Panel one, Miss Gundy: You feel that our school has singularly failed to inculcate any sort of moral sense into our student body? That we are training an army of sociopaths?

Panel one, Mr. Weatherbee: Indeed! What is it that has hollowed out their spirits from the inside, leaving them only fit to be alternately victims and tormentors in life’s theater of cruelty?

Panel two: [A sickening crunch as Archie’s kneecap fractures, leaving him with a limp that will linger the rest of his life.]

Panel three, Mr. Weatherbee: Perhaps we shouldn’t have painted every wall in the school a blindingly bright white. We sought to inculcate spiritual purity, but instead we created the illusion of a yawning void that reflects the emptiness of the students’ souls!

Gasoline Alley, 10/2/07

When last we left this feature, Slim’s insane meteor plot had landed him in an actual mental hospital. Soon afterwards, his clinician choose to follow an unorthodox treatment regime — sending him and Clovia to the beach — and Skeezix, who is the father of one (possibly both? who knows?) of them, had to take over at the garage and deal with their surly employee, who went out on a call and then vanished. In this strip’s newly found rhythm of veering from dull to insane as the plot develops, Skeezix has tracked the missing mechanic to this creepy old house, which is probably inhabited by a family of inbred murderers wearing human skin suits, or a passageway to the plane of damned souls, or something similarly bizarre. The harrowing adventures in this hell-house will of course cut back and forth to and from the dialect-heavy hillbilly antics of Rufus and Joel, who Skeezix left in charge of the garage.

Spider-Man, 10/2/07

Oh, Spider-Man! Is there any hero in the pantheon of American comics tougher and more noble than you? Spidey and his wife have decided to flee Los Angeles for the safer climes of Manhattan; they’ve been driven out of the city of angels by the twin scourges of the Shocker (a “super” villain whose “super” powers mainly consist of a crippling inferiority complex and vibrating gloves he built in his basement metal shop) and an army of amateur paparazzi. But now he faces his greatest challenge yet: heavy traffic on the 405! Obviously it’s worth Peter Parker betraying his secret identity if that’s what it takes to get to the airport on time; after all, air travel between LA and New York is incredibly sporadic, and if Peter and Mary Jane don’t make their flight, clinging to the landing gear like it’s the last helicopter out of Saigon if need be, they could be trapped in Los Angeles indefinitely.

Gil Thorp, 10/2/07

Uh-oh, Howard looks like he’s about to prove that wearing Buddy Holly glasses and being named “Howard” doesn’t automatically make you smart. It’s well known that the Internet primarily exists as a vehicle for anonymous personal abuse. Googling the name of a crappy high school quarterback who plays in a town unnaturally obsessed with high school sports will mainly serve to demonstrate how many ways there are to misspell “YOU FUCKING SUCK.”

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You know, unlike some people, I was actually able to relax on my vacation.

Unlike Peter Parker, who is physically unable to resist the siren song of television, I was able to go eight whole days without reading any of the comics that weren’t featured on this site in my absence. So naturally I had to spend the better part of this morning reading everything I missed. Curse you, Houston Chronicle, for making it all so darn easy!

I was unable to decide on my favorite panel from the days I missed. Was it this one, where Gil Thorp openly boasts that he’ll call in his mob ties to silence journalists who dare question his insane coaching decisions?

Or this one, where Eric Mills imagines the sick thrill he’ll get from roasting Margo alive?

Silly Eric! Margo’s carapace is deceptively beautiful, but it will take more heat than an ordinary household grill can put out to damage it.

Anyway, no more living in the past! We must return to the present … where we find that things haven’t really changed much in the past week or so.

Blondie, 9/10/07

Blondie and Dagwood, for instance, are still caught in a hateful game of marital oneupsmanship that is played out via conspicuous consumption. There is, of course, only one way this can end: with the Bumstead house going up in flames in some kind of mutual potlatch gone horribly awry — both of them still inside, sadly.

Mark Trail, 9/10/07

Mark Trail has stepped away from the brink of a potentially interesting exploration of out-of-control tabloid media and out-of-control development hell-bent on getting its way to slip into a familiar groove. You can’t see it because of the dramatic shadows, but that dude in panel two has sideburns. Sideburns. Sideburns and a club. It’s fisticuffs time, people!

Marmaduke, 9/10/07

And, as ever, Marmaduke’s insatiable hunger for the flesh of human children rages unabated. It’s good to be back in the comics!

(Confidential to Tucson-area readers: Some Comics Curmudgeon fans are gathering at the Macayo’s at Ina and Oracle at 1 p.m. this coming Saturday if you’d care to join them!)

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Gasoline Alley, 8/25/07

Wow, so who would have guessed that Slim’s descent into madness would have concluded with, you know, an actual descent into actual, clinically diagnosed madness? I have to say that while the recent Slim vs. the Basketball Playing Youth Of Today has been totally demented, it’s at least been kind of interesting, unlike the previous year or so of Gasoline Alley, so I sort of hope that they keep up with the wackiness. If nothing else, every year or so the gentle, good-humored domestic drama and hillbilly-dialect chuckles should be punctuated by Slim’s escape from the asylum, with hundreds of comically inept cops crawling everywhere in a failed attempt to keep him from killing again.

Dick Tracy, 8/25/07

I haven’t attempted to grapple with plot of Dick Tracy on this blog for about eight weeks; just take my word for it when I say that for about seven of those weeks, the same thing barely happened over and over again, then all of the sudden this week all sorts of things started happening, none of which made any sense if you thought about them for more than about thirty seconds. However, I feel that the dialog in today’s first panel — “Tracy! They know we know! They’re ramming us!” — stands on its own as a wonderful little dollop of poetic nonsense. I hope tomorrow one of the bad guys says “Gretchen! They know we know they know! We’re ramming them!” And then it could just go on like that pretty much indefinitely.

Also, in panel three, this is the second time that the Baron has arrived at the Pentagon via cab, and I have no reason to believe that it’s going to be the last.

Spider-Man, 8/25/07

Spider-Man continues to indulge its obsession with crumbling masonry. Perhaps the creators have decided that a renewed focus on our woefully neglected infrastructure is more important than providing the “thrills” and “excitement” that the masses expect from their superhero fare.

Also, I have to say that there’s something poignant about the modesty of the Shocker’s ambitions in panel one. He knows that there’s no chance of breaking into the big supervillain scene in New York or DC; he’d just be happy if people in San Francisco and LA, and maybe even Portland and Seattle, hear “the Shocker” and think not “obscene hand gesture” but “that mattress-wearing weirdo who robbed a bank.”

B.C., 8/25/07

Also, Clumsy, you’re not … bald? I mean, you’re not, right? As near as I can tell? I know we’re just plugging new jokes into old art, but couldn’t we at least have the same person picking out the jokes and the art?

Wizard of Id, 8/25/07

Ho ho ho! Id is an Orwellian police state, so dominated by the Panopticon-style omnipresence of its security apparatus that it resembles nothing so much as a vast gulag! Ah, whimsy!

Garfield, 8/25/07

This is pretty much the funniest Garfield that’s appeared in weeks. It’s about vomiting.

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Ziggy, 8/23/07

Ziggy always looks depressed, but he’s got a particularly traumatized expression on his weird, mushy face today. He’s sitting in that chair with a death grip on his little hat and a thousand-mile stare like he’s just received some terrible, terrible news. I’m not exactly sure what product or service brings one to the “Family Tree Genealogy” store/office/otherwise featureless room where a guy sits behind a desk; presumably you pay them money and they look up the same stuff on the Internet that you could have found for free in ten minutes if you weren’t a moron. Anyway, getting back to the mysterious little drama here, obviously Ziggy’s just been given some terrible news about his family, though I’d be hard-pressed to come up with what exactly a genealogist could say that would get you as worked up as our lovable loser is here. “Hmm, now where did I put your file … ah, here it is, Ziggy Hitler! Well, I have some interesting news about those European relatives…”

Apropos of nothing except that it’s simultaneously funny and horrifying, faithful reader Dub Not Dubya sent me this picture of a blobfish, which really more accurately should be called a Ziggyfish.

Spider-Man, 8/23/07

So, after robbing a bank, the Shocker is literally just standing around patiently surrounded by piles of money, waiting for the press to arrive, putting his fists on his hips so as to look as confidently villainous as he can once the cameras capture him. Of course, the press consists of erstwhile lovers J. Jonah Jameson and whatshername, the Romulan chick who now has a crush on Spider-Man; any supervillany is sure to be outshone by their squabbling. The only way Spider-Man can find out about all this is if he does the one thing most ingrained in his nature, but which he has sworn not to do: turn on the television. I think it’s safe to say that Spider-Man has finally given up and embraced camp.

Luann, 8/23/07

Oh, I do not like the look on TJ’s face in panel three. It’s one of discomfort, just starting to edge into outright pain. Is there a sharp, broken spring burrowing into someplace tender? Has Brad not actually sat in the chair? Did he make TJ his first test subject in an act of passive-aggressive revenge for the years the Teej has spent undermining his life?

Actually, now that I look at it again, it could just be flat-out rage. If there’s one thing TJ hates, it’s uncomfortable chairs. Don’t you dare offer him anything less than cushy … if you know what’s good for you.

For Better Or For Worse, 8/23/07

Desperate to make Elizabeth stop talking about Anthony — as any decent, normal person would be — Candace finally just changes the subject to herself in panel four.

The whole “Thérèse is an awful bitch” storyline is somewhat undermined by the fact that Anthony does, in fact, look like a fool in panel two. Nice jams, dude! Was 2003 the equivalent of 1988 in metric Canadian years?

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Crankshaft, 8/17/07

UH OH WATCH OUT YOU POLITICAL CRUMBUMS! IT’S BEEN A MERE TWENTY MONTHS SINCE YOUR SINISTER MEDICARE PART D WENT INTO EFFECT, AND NOW YOU’VE GOT THE ’SHAFT TO ANSWER TO! At long last, Crankshaft’s smoldering anger will be harnessed to effect progressive political change. I can see it now: just as Lisa stands up to begin her testimony about how cancer is bad, suddenly the ’Shaft bursts into the committee chamber, planting an elbow into her tumor-ridden torso, sending her tumbling to the floor. “GOD DAMN IT ALL,” Crankshaft bellows. “I’M OLD, I’M PISSED, I’M WEARING A HAT, AND I DON’T WANT TO PAY FOR MY MEDS!” Everyone stands up and applauds, Medicare is fixed, Lisa expires unnoticed under the table, and cancer remains legal.

Mary Worth, 8/17/07

All week I’ve been ignoring Santa Royale’s most eligible young medico as he romances Bachelorette #2 over lumpy grey mush and human blood at some hideously decorated restaurant, but that was before today when oh Jesus God did Vera seriously just compare Drew to her brother?? Drew, I’ll tell you how this story ought to end: with your running for the door right now. Don’t bother picking up the check, as Vera’s lonely at the top of her chosen career path and can surely afford it. Just get out now.

Spider-Man, 8/17/07

“W-we’re vibrating!! And it actually feels pretty great! Boy, this is working a lot of stress out of my deep tissues. Thanks, the Shocker!”

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Spider-Man, 8/14/07

You sort of get the feeling that the final panel is taking place in the Shocker’s tiny studio apartment, and we’re about twenty minutes into this. “Wait, hold on … ‘Look out, world — here comes the Shocker!’ Hmmm … no, I think that’s too much emphasis on the name, sounds egotistical. How about this? “Look out, world … heeeeere’s … the Shocker!’ No, God damn it, that’s derivative and corny. Stupid! So stupid! I’m never going to get this right!”

God bless faithful reader Tabby, who a while back posted a link to the Shocker’s character page at SpiderFan.org. Here are some delicious excerpts:

Real Name: Herman Schultz
Known Confidants: None
Education: Unknown, but probably a high school education
Strength Level: Normal human strength
Powers: None
Limitations: The Shocker has had severe problems with self-doubt.

Ha ha! No powers, no confidants, no super-powers, normal human strength, maybe a high-school diploma, and crippling self-doubt! Truly the creative team dipped deep into the reserves and found the perfect villain for the newspaper iteration of the Spider-Man mythos.

Mark Trail, 8/14/07

Boy, the ladies sure can’t get enough of Mark Trail! And who can blame them, what with his rugged good looks, corpse-like pallor, propensity for violence and vigilantism, disinclination to use contractions, and total disinterest in sex? Sam sure is keen to get with this hunky hunk of man-hunk: she’s even willing to go back to Lost Forest to have a three-way with his disturbing-looking wife while his hideously ugly son takes pictures.

By the way, for those of you who don’t remember the beginning of this interminable storyline, “clean up places that attract birds” is, no fooling, a euphemism for “pave over wetlands so that birds can no longer breed there.” Also, I’m reasonably sure that we’ve seen this spread-eagled squirrel before; a shiny virtual penny to whomever can discover him in the archives.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/14/07

OH MY GOD! ALAN HARRINGTON! THAT’S … wait, are we supposed to know who that is? Damn it, what was the point of introducing us to all those loser board members if the suspect wasn’t even memorable enough to remember?

Apartment 3-G, 8/14/07

COMICS COLORING COURSE, FINAL EXAM:

Q. OK, so you’ve got two characters in your soap opera strip. Both are male, white (of course! Ha ha!) 30s/40s-ish. Both are sandy-haired. So far you’ve managed to avoid having them appear in the strip at the same time, but now narrative logic demands that they meet. What do you do, hotshot? What do you do?

A. Yellow! Very, very yellow!

Eric Mills obviously had the same reddish hair color as Alan as recently as two weeks ago, but it’s worth noting that, when he was introduced last summer, his hair was black. Personally, I think that the process of dating (or “dating”) Margo is slowly but surely sucking the life essence out of him. His hair will be completely white by the end of the year.

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Judge Parker, 8/5/07

Wha … buh … WHO IS THAT DISTINGUISHED-LOOKING OLDER GENTLEMAN LURKING BENEATH THE STRIP’S LOGO? Why, that’s Judge Parker, natch, just like the label says! Hizzoner has appeared in this strip exactly twice in the three years or so that I’ve been reading it, but I like the way he’s staked out his position in panel one here so that he can still claim proprietorship. “I may not jet off to find lost treasures in Mexico, or to tussle with punks in Paris, or get involved in high-stakes real estate deals in the Napa Valley — but I’m still Judge Parker, damn it! Without me the rest of you losers are nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” Presumably he’ll remain in the first panel of the Sunday strips, glowering manfully, until his totally-not-gay son Randy cruises to an easy election win and becomes a judge himself. Then Judge Parker the Senior, no longer needed for his one current duty of justifying the name of the strip, can drop dead post-haste.

In the ostensible “action” of today’s strip, Sam and Trudi are doing a little dance around the patio or balcony or wherever the hell it is they are. Sam’s presumably ducking and weaving because he’s afraid of losing an eye to one of Trudi’s pointy, bullet-like breasts. Still, leaping up on the railing and striking a pose out of the Cosmo’s sexiest male comic characters feature may have been a little much.

Spider-Man, 8/5/07

Speaking of breasts, I wish — oh, how I wish — I had time to hunt through the Spider-Man archives to prove this, but I’m pretty sure that Mary Jane’s “Oh, I’m so tired, I think I’ll stand up and stretch in a way that is advantageous to the display of my unusually large chest” in panel five is a fairly regular occurrence in this feature. Today’s is more blatant than most because she’s wearing the skin-tight pink fuzzy belly sweater that’s all the rage with the movie stars this season.

Meanwhile, in the final panel we’re introduced to the Shocker, who, based on what generally goes on in this strip, I must assume is an eccentrically dressed network programming executive who plans on picking up a number of shows that will annoy Spider-Man now that he’s turned the TV off.

Curtis, 8/5/07

For those who believe in a more or less literal interpretation of the Genesis creation story, the question of whether Adam and Eve had navels — and, for that matter, whether the trees in the Garden of Eden had growth rings, or whether anything that was created by God in the beginning carried evidence of age — has been a subject of theological discussion since at least the time of Saint Augustine. There’s actually an Answers in Genesis pamphlet on the subject, and the philosophical issues arising from the question gave rise to the so-called omphalos hypothesis. Thus, Rev. Caldwell ought not to have been reduced to weeping, sputtering incoherence by Curtis’s question, like a computer in the original Star Trek series presented with some elementary paradox. One can only assume that Caldwell had a sudden panic attack because his claimed divinity degree is a fraud that he purchased online for $10, and that he’s afraid that his theologically curious congregation, led by young Mr. Wilkins, will soon discover that he’s been skimming off the collection plate for years and plans to decamp to the Cayman Islands very soon.

Speaking of theological conundra, I’m a little disturbed that Barry is both so convinced that Curtis will be condemned to an eternity of torture in hell and that he’s so smug about it. On the other hand, Curtis does wear that damn hat with his church clothes, which can’t be pleasing to the Almighty.

Mark Trail, 8/5/07

Jesus, the final panel of this strip — aka Salvador Dali’s “The Persistence of Bloodhounds” — is going to haunt my dreams for weeks. Mark is all very upbeat about bloodhounds not mauling your children to death despite the breed having the word “blood” in its name, but you notice he doesn’t say anything about the emotional scars of seeing melting dogface every morning when they wake up.

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Spider-Man, 7/15/07

I know it gets old hearing me go on about how Spider-Man is an incredible feeb, but … Jesus Christ, Spider-Man is such an incredible feeb. Today’s he’s decided that he’s just had about enough of this terrible secret identity curse, and so he’s going to pack up his things and go retire the Spider-Man identity entirely. Here’s a hint, Spidey: Spider-Man is the interesting one — by comparison, anyway. You know who should be going into retirement? Mr. Peter “Waaaah my wife makes more than me” “Waaah I don’t have health insurance even though I have super powers and don’t need it” “Waaah I can’t reach the remote” Parker, that’s who. Does this happen to all superheroes eventually? Were Rex Morgan and Mary Worth originally crime-fighting mutants who retired their superhero personae but somehow held on to their spots in the comics pages? Because Peter Parker sans Spidey could out-dull either of them.

I do like the leftmost panel in the bottom row, though, which dramatically illustrates the insane mob of camera-wielding maniacs that would surely drive even the most powerful superhero into seclusion. “Look, there’s a guy on the roof — he might be Spider-Man! Photograph, photographers, photograph!”

However, in the long run, even the usually reliable NEXT! box disappoints. Is that Papyrus font? Sheesh.

Judge Parker, 7/15/07

You can tell Mr. Caesar is a bad guy, because he wears a full three-piece suit when he goes to inspect his sinister industrial operation, which probably exists solely to transform crude oil directly into global-warming-causing CO₂ without even refining it into useful gasoline first, because he’s just that evil, you see. So also clearly this “Rusty” will have something really awful in store for Sam and Sophie. I’m guessing that when he makes his arrival tomorrow (tomorrow in Judge Parker time; actual date: June 3, 2008), he’s going to look a little something like this:

“GEEEAAHHH!” Sam will say. “YOU CAN HAVE OUR SHARES IN THE WINERY — JUST STOP POINTING THAT FACE AT ME!”

Sophie, meanwhile, is so worked up about environmental disaster that her left eyeball is rolling into the back of her head. It’s kind of freaking me out.

Crankshaft, 7/15/07

“Wait a minute … damned souls, trapped in trees and begging to be urinated on? Packed swimming pools full of boiling water, with the scent of cooking human flesh wafting over the whole neighborhood? That’s not ‘the past’ … those are my fantasies about the torture of my enemies in hell! Sorry, I’m old, I get things mixed up sometimes.”

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Gil Thorp, 7/11/07

Ha ha! Oh, man, the Gil Thorp summer hijinks are getting started even more quickly than I could have hoped! I’m totally in love with Gail Martin, the “rock and roll Carole King,” as she was called yesterday; truly, nothing shouts “rock and roll” like a collared shirt and a long braid that you clutch dramatically to your chest while you belt out your non-hits and your banjo player grooves behind you. This looks exactly like the kind of scene where a brawl would break out, and I look forward to tomorrow’s weirdly proportioned and strangely angled fisticuffs. Since Kelly has a troubled past with guys with rage issues, this should provide excellent fuel for one of the eleven rapidly crosscut dramas that will be entertaining us until football practice starts up again.

Apartment 3-G, 7/11/07

Ruby’s dialogue says “funny Texan with more realistic ideals of beauty than these supposedly sophisticated New York City girls,” but her solemn expression in panel three, along with Tommie and Margo’s panicked exchange of glances, says “violent feederism.” In two weeks, look for the two of them to be tied to their chairs, their faces smeared with tangy barbecue sauce, begging for mercy, as Ruby says, “Nuh-uh, Maggie, you still only got one chin!”

Ziggy, 7/11/07

If you thought that the sight of a desperate, insane, bald dwarf with no pants jabbering about the dishonesty of inanimate objects while thrusting a fifteen-year-old household appliance at bemused service worker wouldn’t be funny, well, today’s Ziggy is here to be prove you wrong. I actually laughed aloud at this. Ziggy may continue to exist, as far as I’m concerned.

As I look at it more, I’m sort of hypnotized by the text in Ziggy’s word balloon. The symmetry between the sentence-initial “i” (lowercase, in defiance of all known typographical conventions) and the final exclamation mark, makes it look like he’s actually shouting “T lies!” in Spanish. Which, for my money, is even funnier.

Luann, 7/11/07

I’m only marginally less sick of Brad-Toni than I am of Curtis-Michelle, but this sequence is growing on me. If Toni ends up running off with uberskeeze TJ because of his cooking (or “cooking”) skills, I will be willing to forgive a lot that’s happened in the last few years.

Dick Tracy, 7/11/07

It just wouldn’t be Dick Tracy if the payoff didn’t include somebody writhing around in pain. This isn’t the optimistic fantasy land of Mark Trail; those eyes aren’t growing back.

Family Circus, 7/11/07

Hmm, what’s the most alarming part of this? Yeah, I’m going to have to say that it’s Big Daddy Keane’s little smile.

Gasoline Alley, 7/11/07

Gasoline Alley: the one comic strip that isn’t afraid to show you how the system is stacked against the white man.

Spider-Man, 7/11/07

In a strip that brought us such epic battles as Dr. Octopus vs. his television, Spidey vs. a bowl-hatted butler, Spidey vs. his own outdated ideas of economics and gender, and, of course Spidey vs. a brick, today’s struggle between J. Jonah Jameson and Larry King may represent a dramatic zenith.

And, finally, I’m sure sexy toast-eating is somebody’s fetish, so:

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/11/07

Go to town, perverts!

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Once again, I intended to skip over the days I missed when out of town … once again, I cannot resist their siren song! (And again, since I only skimmed the comments from while I was away, apologies if I’m repeating funnies here…)

Popeye, 6/30/07

In case you’re wondering, Popeye: still a horror show. While Olive Oyl’s manic suicide threat turned out to be the lead-in to some kind of baffling surrealist prank, we now have a sideburned thug threatening to stab Wimpy to death. GOOD FAMILY FUN.

Some commentor months ago said that the current Popeye strips are actually reruns from the 1990s. Can anyone confirm or deny if we’re seeing this disturbing tale a second time? Also, did Popeye really stuff spinach into his pipe and smoke it in one of the cartoons, or am I misremembering that?

Spider-Man, 6/30/07

With the sudden appearance of Badly Drawn Larry King, Spider-Man hits its highest pitch of excitement in months.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/1/07

Saparmurat Niyazov, who died last year, was the longtime dictator of Turkmenistan. His country was ground down by one of the most outrageous personality cults in history, the most obvious aspect of which was the inescapable omnipresence of his image. Photos, monuments, and statues of him were every where, including, most memorably, a gold-plated statue atop the Neutrality Arch, which rotated automatically so that it always faced the sun. “I admit it,” he said once, “there are too many portraits, pictures and monuments. I don’t find any pleasure in it, but the people demand it because of their mentality.”

Meanwhile, the battle for the heart (or something) of Niki begins! This fishing expedition should be an absolute hoot, as Niki, a tough kid from the mean streets of New Orleans, and Rex, an effete suburban doctor whose main hobbies are golf and petulance, attempt to bond by emulating crappy Hollywood movies about male bonding written by, directed by, and starring people who also have never fished in their lives. Look for Rex to flail about in disgust at the prospect of touching a live worm, and then accidentally swing the hook right into Niki’s eye. Rex’s dad looks down from heaven, still unimpressed.

Slylock Fox, 7/1/07

We Cassandra Cat fans enjoy the sight of our feline filcher staring lovingly if prematurely at her haul, but I have to once again take issue with the solution to the mystery. In a world where mice wear bowlers, foxes solve mysteries, and squirrels own jewelry and vinyl-sided houses, why couldn’t the kiwi have just walked into the house and stolen the ring? It could have just gone up the conveniently placed stairs.

Crankshaft, 7/1/07

Unless our unhappy family is parked directly above a tiny but still unimaginably powerful black hole, I’m going to have to call foul on the downward-bending light beam coming out of that car’s headlights. Perhaps it’s meant to be a metaphor for Crankshaft’s tragic erectile dysfunction.

Mark Trail, 7/1/07

“So you see, Rusty, sometimes you waste your entire life working on things that will ultimately be destroyed without a trace! Also, women like men with big ‘claws.'”

Panel from One Big Happy, 7/1/07

The advantage of having a character who generally speaks in unfiltered streams of quasi-nonsense is that you can slip in things like this and most people will barely notice.

Apartment 3-G, 7/2/07

Some might feel that this comic portrays Margo in an unflattering light, but you have to understand the context: yesterday was Lu Ann’s turn to cook, so she hasn’t eaten in nearly 48 hours. Naturally she’s a little irritable.

For Better Or For Worse, 7/2/07

Shawna-Marie’s wedding, week four: Canada’s nightmare continues.

It is of course obvious that Liz’s parade of suitors is being torn down one by one — too drunk, too distracted by their jobs and leering, too not white cheating — to make the inevitable pairing with Anthony vaguely palatable, since he has no actively redeeming qualities. The last few candidates at least had some kind of vague history in the strip, though; now we’re just being introduced to new potential mates solely so they can be eliminated. I look forward to the gap between the meet-cute and the unmasking getting shorter and shorter (Panel one: Liz meets handsome Joe! Panel three: Joe kicks a puppy!) until eventually a charming, attractive man comes upon Liz and says something punny and then tries to rape her in the same panel.

Gil Thorp, 7/2/07

“It’s not my job to do anything about it, though, obviously. Heck, what with you doing most of my job for me, my job mostly consisted of cashing the checks! So thanks, you lovable old fraud!”

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Apartment 3-G, 6/20/07

I’m very excited that Apartment 3-G has torn itself away from Roommate In A Coma to instead explore some queasy-making intrafamilial sexual ick. It’s becoming clear that Nora Mills, who as near as I can tell is supposed to be the widow of Eric’s brother, has clearly got a taste for Mills men that only another Mills man can satisfy. Questions remain: Is Eric’s Katy’s real father? Did Eric choose Margo as a romantic partner because she and Nora essentially look exactly alike? Will Nora and Margo settle this with icy glares and cutting remarks, fists, or shivs? Is that RING RING RING the most exciting panel-to-panel transition in Apartment 3-G history? And, what with Katy’s hair having grown back, is it possible that Margo’s party planning actually cures cancer?

Dick Tracy, 6/20/07

So Dick Tracy is onto a new baffling and anger-inducing storyline, which so far involves:

• A wizened old Baron who’s an ex-Communist spy or something
• His bizarrely leather-faced granddaughter in peril, Gretchen
• Some bewildering and totally made up post-Soviet pretend politics and intrigue
• A CIA headquarters building with a “CIA HEADQUARTERS” sign visible from miles away

None of that has been enough to rouse me to comment. However, I do have to say that I appreciate the artist’s bold choice in the third panel to focus the action squarely on Dick Tracy’s crotch.

Mark Trail, 6/20/07

Man, it’s hard to count all the things wrong with today’s Mark Trail, but let’s start with Mark’s casual posture and shit-eating grin in panel one. It says “I’m all relaxed and ready for some phone sex” and not “I just almost got killed and then spent an hour rooting around inside a duck’s intestines.” Then there’s the idea that a two-seater private plane running into a bird is somehow big enough news to travel all the way back to Lost Forest — presumably everything Mark Trail does or says is front page news in the local paper — and the fact that Mark himself didn’t bother to be the one to relay said drama to his wife. There’s the par-for-the-course emphasis problem in Cherry’s first word balloon — that should be “how are you”, not “how are you” — and someone in the syndicate has clearly bowdlerized “that whore” into “the young lady” in panel two. But mostly I’m just disturbed by Cherry’s melting nightmare of a face. PLEASE MARK DON’T MAKE HER SAD ANYMORE IT’S FREAKING ME OUT.

Mary Worth, 6/20/07

More proof that Mary and Jeff are very much not ever getting it on: if Dr. Corey Junior thought for a single moment that there was the slightest sliver of a chance that he might accidentally walk in on the two of them having sex, you can bet that he’d be knocking, very loudly.

Actually, Mary’s pretty lucky that her not-boyfriend’s son arrived when he did. Dr. Jeff really doesn’t want to go this party, and in panel one he’s pretty clearly sizing up his cane as a potential weapon.

Spider-Man, 6/20/07

In any marriage, there’s a certain amount of give and take, compromises two partners have to make so that they can both get what they want, even — or perhaps especially — when it comes to sex. Clearly the Parkers have just finished off a rousing session of healthy marital relations, and, as is their custom, they left the TV on throughout, due to Peter’s insistence on bitching at and about it at all times.

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It is I trust a shared opinion here, no matter where you fall on the merits of the Spider-Man franchise as a whole, that the Spider-Man newspaper comic strip is in fact almost unspeakably lame. There are occasional laments about the low state to which it has fallen; however, faithful reader Eden, who was helping clean out some junk from her parents’ house, uncovered evidence that it has ever been thus, if by “ever” you mean “since at least 1978, the date of this newspaper she found.”

So many wonderful things here, including but not limited to the following:

• Peter Parker’s massive, Neaderthal-style brow ridge
• Peter Parker only fights crime so as to get laid
• Crypto-right-wing undertones (“liberation” — clearly code for “sinister commie terrorism”)
• The idea that the plotting of left-wing terrorist groups on campus might constitute “ripped from the headlines” drama in 1978

Tana is clearly a member of the terrorist group — no doubt its full name is the “Stereotypical Mysterious Gypsy Women Liberation Front.”

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Apartment 3-G, 6/17/07

To honor the professional nature of the setting and somber tone of the occasion, Blaze has finally taken off his moronic cowboy hat.

Hi and Lois, 6/17/07

The artist of Hi and Lois has had secondhand accounts of hippies relayed to him, but has never actually met one, or seen a picture of one.

Judge Parker, 6/17/07

Sam finally admits it: Sophie is smarter than he is.

Spider-Man, 6/17/07

Spider-Man believes that throwing his wife into the air constitutes foreplay.

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Mary Worth, 4/22/07

You know, I will defend at great length the entertainment value to be found in Mary Worth, but I have to admit that a significant amount of its content essentially consists of small-minded upper-middle-class suburban white people gossiping about each other. I’m somewhat horrified but not entirely surprised that Toby and Mary immediately go from “man trouble” to “married.” “Vera didn’t say she had been married,” Mary noted as she tapped her coffee cup against her teeth, “but I have to assume that she was, since her problems seem to involve a man and she never mentioned that she was a whore.”

Spider-Man, 4/22/07

It’s a well-known fact that the only bit of wit or verve you will encounter in the newspaper strip version of the Spider-Man franchise lies in the overwrought NEXT! boxes at the end of the Sunday strips. Based on today’s, I hope that an angry Kordok will ultimately throttle this flat-topped turncoat until his misshapen head bursts like an enormous zit.

Sally Forth, 4/22/07

The signs are all there, so we might as well just lay back and enjoy it: Sally Forth is slowly but surely turning into a non-stop fuckathon.

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Apartment 3-G, 4/11/07

Panel one: The touch on the shoulder, plus the nature of the conversation, establishes that these two gentlemen are well acquainted with each other, and, despite minor conflicts, keep each other’s best interests at heart.

Panel two: An exaggerated look at the watch, plus a call to make plans later, indicates that one of the two characters needs to run.

Panel three: Oh no! Readers might not realize that these two are old friends, and about to part! We need a narration box, stat! As a bonus, it will screw up the rhythm of the strip, implying that there’s been some kind of gap in time between panels two and three!

Spider-Man, 4/11/07

I’m uninterested in the latest example of J. Jonah Creep’s epic self-absorption, and my curiosity is only vaguely piqued by the flight of that … brick? videotape? bundle of hundred-dollar bills? Whatever. I am, however, intrigued by the concept of a thought balloon coming from off-panel. A similarly positioned word balloon offers a comics-panel approximation of a situation in which you can hear someone but not see them; this seems to show that SOMEWHERE nearby, SOMEONE is thinking … but WHO?

Gil Thorp, 4/11/07

When I read today’s Gil Thorp, my eyes slid right over the bizarre wildlife analogies and traumatizing Paris Hilton joke to settle on that … thing … that the first basewoman is holding in the third panel. Is it a trash can lid? An enormous pair of black panties with a frilly trim? A rip in the fabric of space and time, revealing the soul-destroying black abyss that lies beyond our universe? After about a minute, I realized that we’re just supposed to be looking directly into the maw of a fielder’s mitt. That’s a minute I’ll never have back, and I resent it.

By the way, it appears that Hadley Baxendale and Steve Luhm fought for equal rights in vain: While I’m sure the baseball diamond has been mowed with laser-beam precision, the softball field appears to be covered in ankle-deep grass. The right fielder is standing in a particularly wooly patch, though, if we continue with the African herbivore metaphors, she may believe that it provides camouflage from predators.

Dick Tracy, 4/11/07

It’s hard to believe, but I’ve managed to avoid commenting on Dick Tracy ever since we met the completely demented Queen of Diamonds character. Today, things just get weirder as she discards her costume for reasons that are no more obvious than those that drove her to wear in the first place. It’s not like a lumpy person in a skin-tight black bodysuit with a face like a playing card is exactly inconspicuous, even if she isn’t carrying a supernaturally glowing gem.

Judge Parker, 4/11/07

For those of you not following along at home, Neddy and Abbey, fleeing from their ‘80s punker attackers, have ducked through a door off of an alley and into some mysterious workshop full of industrial supplies that they can turn into weapons. Presumably they will blow-torch their nemeses into submission, then dump their charred figures onto the steps of L’Académie française, where they will be dealt with for their crimes against French grammar. It looks like somebody’s gunning to have their strip turned into the next ultraviolent Robert Rodriguez-directed big screen comics adaptation.

Mark Trail, 4/11/07

Many of you have already noted that Mark is flying to confront Dan’s grieving widow on the back of a majestic goose, and driving from the gooseport in some kind of vehicle that lacks seats. I’m more disturbed by how excited Cherry is about the whole thing. “Oh, Mark, I’m so glad you didn’t call the police with your suspicions. I love it when you go off half-cocked on impromptu voyages of vengeance! Go get ’em, tiger! Don’t beat anyone to death unless you feel like it!”

Family Circus, 4/11/07

This, combined with this, leads me to believe that the Family Circus has a bee up its butt over recent findings that most Americans, including most of those who consider themselves Christians, are completely ignorant of the basics of the Bible and Christian theology. Obviously it will climax with an angry, melon-headed mob demanding that public schools bring back religious instructions for their poor, hell-bound students. Obviously their parents can’t be trusted to do it! They’re just as dumb!

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Spider-Man, 4/10/07

It’s official: Everyone in this strip is a screw-up. “When Kordak hits ’em, they’re done for”? Tell that to not-dead hideously ugly redheaded flattop dude! Even the corpse-dumping was marked by failure. Presumably now N-DHURFD will seek to help Spidey in order to have revenge upon his former criminal compatriots. Inevitably, he’ll botch it somehow.

Pluggers, 4/10/07

So … you’re a plugger if you’re fat? This not only represents some kind of creative nadir for the Pluggers franchise, but it insults millions of fat people everywhere. Maybe the fatness/drawstring shorts combination is the key here.

Mark Trail, 4/10/07

Wow, that angry, angry fish in panel two is the scariest thing I’ve seen in the comics — or, well, anywhere, really — in a long time. Maybe it represents Mark himself, infuriated at being used and determined to settle the score with his gaping, lipless mouth. “You want to pretend to be dead to make money, Dan? Oh, I’ll pretend for you to be dead, all right — ONLY IT WON’T BE PRETEND!”

UPDATE: Anyone who thinks panel two is mere fantastical whimsy needs to read this.

Ziggy, 4/10/07

I have to say that I find the fact that this vending machine/enigmatic monolith has a coin slot but no way to spit out whatever it is you don’t know what you’re missing profoundly unsettling. I know that the “cryptically labeled vending machine that Ziggy regards dubiously” is a common trope in Ziggy, and for obvious reasons I’m not going to subject myself to a hunt through the Ziggy archives to find out if they’re all like that, but the sight of that smooth, unbroken expanse of white whatever, unbroken by any dispensing door or slot of any kind, chills me to the bone.

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Spider-Man, 3/31/07

You may have missed Friday’s thrilling Spider-Man, in which the fake Mrs. Spider-Man attempted to escape from the back seat of her captor’s car! So, thrill to this installment in which … she … is … put back into the car by her captor. This, combined with my rage earlier this week at similar non-developments, has brought about an epiphany: just about everything that happens in Spider-Man happens only to slow down the action of the strip. It’s all an endless delaying action, making the big payoff we’re going to get that much more exciting. I’ve been reading this feature daily for something like three years now, so I can tell you that said payoff had better be really good.

Panel three: Spidey, you got clocked by a brick and you’re just now wondering if this whole “spider-sense” thing isn’t a load of bunk?

Pluggers, 3/31/07

Just when you think that the whole “anthropomorphic and non-anthropomorphic animals uneasily sharing narrative space” scenario can’t get any more unsettling, you get today’s paean to involuntary sterilization. For obvious reasons, I try not to pay too close attention to the various family relationships among the horrifying bipedal beasts of Pluggers, so I can’t say for sure if the dog and the Chicken-Lady are kin or just acquaintances, but I think what really makes this panel disturbing is the look of mortal terror on the face of the li’l pup contrasted with heavy-lidded indifference of his feathered captor.

Would it make me an evil chardonnay-swilling elitist if I suggested that actual plugger litter control is a crude, hand-scrawled sign that reads “FREE PUPPIES,” which you put on a pole in the middle of your dog-feces-laden yard? What, it would? Oh, OK then, I won’t … what, I already said it? Damn it.

Beetle Bailey, 3/31/07

Wow, who knew that painting your own porch furniture was something that somehow lowered one’s prestige, and that, more generally, the elite of our military’s officer corps lives in a fishbowl in which every action that they and their spouses take is judged by neighbors and passersby? Who should be painting a general’s chairs? A crew of enemy combatants, on loan from Gitmo?

Family Circus, 3/31/07

“I’m helping her too, Jeffy! I’m masturbating to Internet pornography because I know that cleaning leaves her too tired to perform her marital duties. Oh, and let me borrow one of those shirts, while you’re handing them out.”

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Baldo, 3/29/07

As part of my program of occasionally saying something unmitigatedly nice, I’ll say that I really like this technique that Baldo does occasionally, where normally cartoonish characters suddenly become lifelike, if romantically idealized. For reference for those of you who don’t read the strip, this is what Tia Carmen usually looks like:

Since Baldo is about a Latino family, it’s tempting to call these installments comic-page telenovellas, but their real antecedents are soap strips like Mary Worth or Rex Morgan, I think. I like them because I think they represent the idealized way the characters see themselves, rather than the cartoonish way in which we usually look at them.

Ziggy, 3/29/07

Hmm! Say there, Ziggy seems to be saying something to the mice about something that we, the audience, can’t see! Doesn’t this seem a bit familiar? Let’s turn the wayback machine to November 15, 2006:

Ziggy, 11/15/06

At the time, I said this:

You know what would have made this cartoon marginally funnier? If we could actually see the mice making off with Ziggy’s cell phone. Or see the antenna sticking out of the mousehole. Or see Ziggy holding an empty cell-phone holder. Or really see anything that would indicate that this wasn’t one of hundreds of photocopies of a single pre-drawn “Ziggy talks to the mice” panel, all awaiting only the addition of “hilarious” dialogue and published at reasonable intervals so as not to be glaringly obvious.

(Note for libel purposes: I’m not saying that Ziggy actually uses photocopied panels instead of coming up with a new one every day. I’m just saying that it would save a lot of work if it did.)

Well, it sadly looks like I was right. Despite the fact that today’s Ziggy could have just used the November panel with different dialogue, it seems that the artist has gone through all the trouble of making an entirely new drawing for what’s essentially the same mice-using-wireless-communications-technology joke. To his credit, he managed to make it even less interesting visually this time around.

Spider-Man, 3/29/07

A couple of weeks ago, I proposed that Spider-Man getting hit in the head with a brick would cause amnesia and mistaken-wife-identity hijinks. It was a moronic idea for a storyline, I thought, but hey, this is Spider-Man. Of course, I failed to account for the fact that the Spider-Man strip will do whatever it takes to prevent you from deriving enjoyment of any kind from it. Today, it becomes obvious that Spidey getting bonked in the head and stumbling about woozily for the better part of a week wasn’t meant to set up any ludicrous narrative shenanigans; in fact, it actually served absolutely no narrative purpose at all. As I should have known since this enraging sequence a couple years back, this strip exists entirely as some elaborate bit of storytelling gamesmanship, in which all reader expectations of excitement or at least a vague sense of involvement are continually and gleefully thwarted.

Pluggers, 3/29/07

What I love best about today’s Pluggers is how damn smug Grandpa McCheapskate looks. “Yeah, I’m trying to teach you the value of a dollar … specifically, that it’s four times greater than the value of a quarter. Now go get a job, you little ingrate.”

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Crankshaft, 3/14/07

All these PTA moms are looking a little too dementedly excited about Crankshaft suddenly not being a moving target. Presumably they’ll all gather at the winner’s house, and when Crankshaft’s bus stops, they’ll get on board and tear him to pieces with their bare hands.

Pluggers, 3/14/07

Well, know we know why pluggers prefer fast food restaurants: The lack of personalized service there fits in nicely with their crippling shyness.

Spider-Man, 3/14/07

There are two or three different Spider-Man plots going on at the moment, but today Spidey takes a break to demonstrate that he is both less agile and less powerful than a brick. Nobody is surprised.

Wait … wait … is Spider-Man going to have amnesia? And believe that the woman on TV claiming to be his wife really is his wife? OMG MOST AWESOMELY STUPID SPIDER-MAN PLOT EVER! Better than Gown-Man even! BRING IT, SPIDEY!

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Slylock Fox, 3/5/07

Wow, so Slylock Fox is keeping with its overall mystery theme, but seems to have moved from cutesy Encyclopedia Brown-type mysteries to late night Cinemax “erotic thriller”-type mysteries. This shift can probably be attributed to the hiring of the sexy Cassandra Cat, who featured in a previous disturbingly adult installment of the feature. What really ups the squik factor me, honestly, is not merely Cassandra’s bound state, or even the fact that she really was tied up by a “friend”; no, it’s Slylock and Max’s creepy, expressionless, voyeuristic stares. You sort of get the feeling that they’ve been halfway into that window for a while now.

By the way, I didn’t even notice the goldfish, thrashing around on the floor as it dies slowly, until I read the solution to the puzzle. So thanks for making me contemplate that little horror in the midst of this perversion, Mr. Omniscient Upside-Down Slylock Fox Narrator.

Herb and Jamaal, 3/5/07

I’m not sure what Herb’s expression in the final panel is supposed to indicate: that he’s reveling in squinty-eyed glee at his own lame internal joke, or that he’s taking a dump in his pants. Frankly, both scenarios would provide him with roughly equal amounts of dignity.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 3/5/07

I don’t really have a ton to say about today’s TDIET, except that “Richard Kahane” is none other than faithful reader and occasional commentor Obélix, who scores points for actually making his entry comics-related. Comics Curmudgeon readers have now supplied four or five TDIETs over the past year or so, which may say something about what percentage of this feature’s readership we make up.

Spider-Man, 3/5/07

Sadly, today’s thrilling remote control nabbing makes panel two the most exciting moment in Spider-Man in several weeks. Still, it’s nice to see that Brendan Fraser is still getting work.

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Mark Trail, 1/23/07

Hmm … “Mark, this is Dick … the beaver we trapped is back!” Oh, close enough. Welcome back into my heart, you crazy beavers! All is forgiven!

I love Mark’s goofy, heavy-lidded grin in the final panel. “Yeah, that Dick … he’ll shoot a beaver, all right … no warning … those kids should be worried … he’d shoot the kids too … Rusty and … the other one … the little girl … what’s her name … oh, Christ, I am so wasted.”

Gil Thorp, 1/23/07

Ah, it’s another fabulous Gil Thorp crowd scene, this time brought to you by M.C. Escher. The Lady Mudlarks’ five fans are in full effect, showing their apathetic love in the center of the yawning, featureless abyss that is the Milford gymnasium. Lisa’s mom, who is usually right, apparently thinks that only her patented wacky Mussolini impression will get this crowd fired up. That having failed, in panel two she manages to bend the nature of reality itself, and Blondie McBuzzcut looks up in confused terror as she manages to get her arm in front of his face in defiance of ordinary spatial dynamics.

Speaking of panel two, Person Of Indeterminate Gender Wearing A Fur-Trimmed Jacket And Hat Even Though He Or She Is Inside is back! It’s good to see that Lady Mudlark fever is chronic, if not infectious.

I might be more hip to the nuances of the thrilling “But…” in panel three if I were more intimately acquainted with the meanings of high school basketball referee hand signals. But all in all, I’m pretty glad I’m not.

Spider-Man, 1/23/07

Spidey’s been in the midst of a wholly uncharacteristic crime-fighting spree this week, but don’t worry: it’s just a cover-up for his usual whiny marital angst. I’m not sure how you pronounce “?”, but I can guess why he’s trying; I don’t think any member of the actual criminal element has used the phrase “plugged nickel” in, well, ever.

Pluggers, 1/23/07

No. No. If some aspect of being a plugger is contingent on being literate, then … everything I know about how the world works is meaningless.

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Apartment 3-G, 1/14/07

Well, now we know how Eric Mills has managed to claw his way to the top of New York’s ultracompetitve art world. Suckers spend all their time carefully wooing temperamental geniuses in the hopes that they’ll create another Guernica, another Thinker, a work that will make their reputation echo down the ages. Eric instead finds some moderately talented striver, then dangles the prospect of fame in front of her eyes and orders her to churn out paintings by the gross. He seeks nothing less than to be the Wal-Mart of the art world, complete with slave labor. I’m guessing the “gallery” where Lu Ann’s masterpieces will be displayed is a conference room in a Holiday Inn on the New Jersey Turnpike, and that the ad copy for the “show” will rely heavily on the phrase “starving artist quality at starving artist prices.”

Spider-Man, 1/14/07

In a particularly egregious Sunday-weekday comics coloring mismatch, Saturday’s Caucasian Gay Pirate Porn Star has suddenly been replaced by today’s African-American Actor Who Is Classically Trained But Can Nevertheless Only Find Work As A Cheesy Doo-Rag-Wearing Criminal, circa 1993.

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Spider-Man, 1/13/07

The secret fear of anyone in a profession that might be broadly labeled as “helpful” is that they’ll do such a good job that they’ll be rendered obsolete. For instance, for my non-comics-mocking job, I for the most part edit material written by and for computer programmers; deep down, I worry that my skillful and helpful suggestions will eventually sink in, and the geeks of the world will soon be sending grammatical, well structured, easy-to-read prose to publishers worldwide, rendering my services superfluous; this is why I’m trying to milk as much cash from the comics gig as I can. Police officers presumably fret that one day they’ll eliminate all crime everywhere, freeing up tax dollars to go towards city-subsidized public bocce courts. Perhaps this is why cops turn corrupt: it’s actually part of their union rules, so that there’s always crime to fight.

For superheroes, it’s not cash at stake, since any one of them could make big money on the sideshow circuit; rather, it’s their intrinsic sense of self-worth. Spider-Man’s own ego is pretty shaky: he plummets into a pointless pit of hypermacho self-loathing every time he realizes that his wife makes more than he does. Thus, it should come as no surprise that he positively revels in Los Angeles’ sky-high crime rate as the only cure to his sense of existential despair. Sure, it’s apparently just some extra from a gay pirate porno film dabbling in a little purse snatching, but whiny whiny Peter Parker will take emotional validation from wherever he can get it.

Marvin, 1/13/07

Note to cartoonist everywhere: Most of the characters in your feature may just crap in their pants instead of into a toilet like civilized people, but doesn’t mean that you can repeatedly make jokes about it, OK? Just … just trust me on this. It’s not acceptable. God help us all if this spreads to the folks at the other end of the age spectrum in Gasoline Alley or Momma.

B.C., 1/13/07

OK, see, the first boomerang joke was mildly amusing. The second is loopy and weird, and sort of indicates that Johnny Hart has the idea of a boomerang sort of stuck in his mind like a bit of chicken between two teeth, and he’s idly working at it with his tongue, and we have to watch the results. And it’s a boomerang. Not something interesting and relevant and funny. A boomerang. Troubling.

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Mark Trail, 12/9/06

One of the things that Mark Trail is ostensibly supposed to do is to teach young people about the ways of nature. That’s why we’re lucky that no young people actually read Mark Trail because the last thing you really should do if you encounter an injured animal — particularly an injured animal with enormous, powerful teeth that it’s temperamentally prone to going all bitey bitey with — is to pick it up. Fortunately Mark is like a modern-day St. Francis with his animal-charming powers, although somewhat more enthusiastic about punching hillbillies in the face than the good man from Assisi.

At some level, Mark knows that his reckless beaver-handling isn’t a good example for young people. That’s why Rusty has magically transmogrified into a full-grown adult in panels one and three.

Hagar the Horrible, 12/9/06

I could think of any number of mildly amusing punchlines that might have made incrementally but noticeably funnier use of the setup provided here. What appears to have happened is that someone at Hagar Central remembered that, according to the meticulously maintained and elaborate Hagar the Horrible canon, Hagar is actually illiterate, and reference to that fact had to be added in at the last minute lest all the Hagar nerds (chosen name: “Horribles”) tear this strip to pieces on the many, many Hagar fan sites.

Popeye, 12/9/06

So, yeah, Popeye’s been doing this “Olive Oyl is jealous of Sweet Pea and also just sort of in general” storyline for, like, months and months and months, which has mostly been unworthy of mention, until today when we get Olive contemplating “dating” a gorilla, which I, uh, thought worthy of mention.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/9/06

Niki, I warned you that “bad June” would be back before too long. If “painting the garage” is anything like “cleaning the basement,” a euphemism thought up by Mrs C. and her filthy-minded college friends, Niki had better hope that his jaw is back in top shape.

The Family Circus, 12/9/06

There’s something unspeakably creepy to me about Ma Keane standing in the doorway in the background of this scene, looking on at these crimes against pretend medical science silently and expressionlessly. It’s as if she’s watching another step in an unfathomable and long-running plan of her own design playing out. I’m not sure what that plan is, but it’s a good guess that it involves somebody’s freakishly oversized head being split open.

Spider-Man, 12/9/06

Later, after the drama is resolved: “Yeah, honey, it was reverse psychology! Yeah, that’s the ticket.”

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Mary Worth, 12/5/06

“That’s right, I won’t stop there! I’m also going to break out into this elaborately choreographed dance routine! ‘Hey fella … don’t see Ella … that’s my advice to yoooouuuuu … She’s no psychic … you won’t like it … She’s crazy, she’s old … and something of a scold!'”

I can’t wait to see what sort of devastating rumors ol’ Tom Dewey’s going to be spreading about Charterstone’s resident psychic advisor. “Hey guys, you know that 92-year-old woman living in the condo complex who I went to for psychic advice on my complex business dealings? Well it turns out she’s crazy! No, she’s crazy! No … what are you laughing at?”

Pluggers, 12/5/06

I’m going to pass quickly over the sub-Foxworthyism that is the joke in today’s Pluggers (“If your working mailbox sits inside your non-working mailbox, you might be a plugger”) to snicker snidely at the name of the Muncy, PA, resident who sent this in. Please, somebody tell me that this is a cruel joke perpetrated by central PA hipsters, or some kind of down-home country cultural reference of which I as a city-dwelling elite snot am ignorant, rather than somebody’s actual name. What I’m trying to say is, if you name your son “Chubby Fry,” you might be a plugger, and you’re definitely determined to make sure that he’s a plugger.

Zits and Dick Tracy, 12/5/06

I offer these two strips to showcase how the comics treats delivery personnel stumbling into wacky comics-style situations. For reasons too boring for me to go into here, the Tracys have had their minds erased for Dr. Froid’s sinister purposes and Jeremy is naked. Now, I’m not an expert on automatic-rifle-handling techniques, but I’m kind of dubious about the way that the Brinks man on the left is holding his weapon in panel two of Dick Tracy. I’m pretty sure that the only time I’ve ever seen anyone wielding a gun like that was when he was standing in the back of a pickup truck with a bunch of other guys on their way to seize the city’s central marketplace from a rival clan’s militia.

As for the clotheslessness dilemma, I have to say that I don’t think the thought of my girlfriend “accidentally” finding me naked in high school would have traumatized me as much as it apparently does Jeremy. I’m not saying anything good or non-scarring would have come of that had it actually happened, but I think I would have been more open to it before the fact.

Apartment 3-G, 12/5/06

You know, both Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G are heavily into supernaturally-themed storylines right now — just in time for six weeks late for Halloween! Personally, I think Lu Ann’s found her perfect man: dedicated, distant, and invisible. Mostly, the Amazing Tale Of The Mysterious Haunted Studio is reminding me how damn boring the Lu Ann plots are. I think I speak for us all when I say: bring on Margo and Eric’s wacky antics, which should play out like a methed-up version of The Lady Eve. Even glum Tommie’s stories have a mopey grandeur compared to this goofy twaffle.

Spider-Man, 12/5/06

Trust me, you do not want to know what just happened in that van.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/3/06

I see that Rex Morgan has broken down and introduced its first black character since January. Of course, he’s a drug dealer. I like the fact that, even in the midst of a causal business-related discussion with one of his employees, he’s flashing a gang sign — because he’s that hardcore about being a gangsta. Even though we can’t see his hands in the final panel, I’d like to belive that he’s maintaining that gang sign as his lab goes up in flames. Because he’s that hardcore.

Meanwhile, June’s hit the nicey-nice trough of her emotional roller-coaster ride. As a result, Niki’s starting to warm up to her, but since her reflexes aren’t so hair-trigger at this point in her cycle of psychosis, he should really be using this opportunity to flee. That’s what Rex does.

Family Circus, 12/3/06

A commentor with some kind of inside track on the funnies posted a link to this earlier this week, but I still wasn’t emotionally prepared to see Billy’s monstrous peyote-fueled nightmare in living color in the paper. I think I’m most disturbed by Daddy: everyone else at least gets a human head on an animal body, but the horrifying combination of the man’s face with the prehensile trunk and huge, drooping ears nearly sent me over the edge. I do kind of feel bad for PJ, who has to be a feeble, hapless infant even in this twisted Dr. Moreau-esque hellscape.

Spider-Man, 12/3/06

You know, MJ and Doc Ock’s semantic “web-crawler” vs. “wall-crawler” vs. “web-spinner” debate is the most exciting conflict this strip has seen in, well, ever. If the city is going to be held at bay for the next six weeks by further argument along this line, I for one am willing to accept that.

Mark Trail, 12/3/06

You know, I … I had always assumed that pirates were the pirates of the sea. Call me crazy.

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As this Thanksgiving holiday weekend draws to a close, I really am grateful for a lot of things in the comics pages. For instance, I have to give thanks to Rex Morgan, M.D., for producing this panel:

And to Judge Parker, for this lovely image:

And to Sunday’s Mark Trail, which featured a conversation taking place between a nut-nibbling squirrel and a leaf, while an eight-year-old adds his own commentary, featuring the word “Etc.”:

And, now some full-length comics thanks.

Mark Trail, 11/24/06

Is there anything sexier than a heavily armed and emasculating Kelly Welly? Mark has the vaguely amused and/or smug expression of a man who’s no longer engaged in the little drama going on before him, but appreciates good work when he sees it. By the way, Ella isn’t the only one in the funnies with psychic powers: Mark was so sure that this adventure would be resolved on the 24th, he had the date stitched just above his left breast pocket.

Apartment 3-G, 11/25/06

Man, I guess this goes to show why I wasn’t much of a player back in my single days. Because apparently worming your way into other people’s Thanksgiving dinner by acting mopey rates makes you “Mr. Smooth,” whereas I would have thought it made you “pathetic.”

You can insert your own “stuffing the turkey” and/or “gobble gobble” jokes here.

I earlier touched upon the fact that everyone in this little scenario seems to mysteriously have no family to share Thanksgiving with, but it occurred to me today that Margo in fact lives in the same city as Gabriella, her comical immigrant mother. Presumably as a foreigner she’s unfamiliar with the concept, and nobody’s told her about it in the decades she’s lived in the United States so that they don’t have to invite her to dinner.

Spider-Man, 11/26/06

And finally, we should all give thanks to Peter Parker today, who spent his Sunday thoughtfully narrating the entire current Spider-Man scenario in his head in great detail for those of us who were having trouble keeping up. If only the type in the word balloons had been a little bigger, we might have been able to eliminate the superfluous pictures entirely.

I spent part of this weekend with my mom’s side of the family for our traditional Christmas at Thanksgiving celebration, and one of my little cousins squealed with glee at receiving a set of Spider-Man action figures. Since my main contact with this franchise is through the newspaper strip, I was surprised that that Spidey didn’t come with a couch and television set as accessories, or feature extra whining powers.

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Spider-Man, 11/16/06

You know, you might think that Dr. Octopus has his priorities all in the wrong order here. But when you realize that a good third of Spider-Man strips involve someone yelling at the television set, you can imagine what a hard time he’d have without one.

Apartment 3-G, 11/16/06

OH, SNAP GINA! That is totally not going to get you into Tommie’s pants. Her white, white pants. Jesus, someone teach these people how to dress.

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Apartment 3-G, 11/8/06

Panel two of today’s Apartment 3-G is a thrill for Margo lovers everywhere (which, I think it goes without saying, is ALL OF YOU, if you know what’s good for you). She’s moving in for the kill, and looks like she’s either going to ravage Eric Mills’ hapless assistant with red-hot Margo-style smooches or bite off her face. The girl’s facial expression, which is one of terror mingled with excitement, matches this dramatic ambiguity.

Margo’s near-victim bears a striking resemblance to Alan’s barely legal paramour from that infamous party. Did anyone leave that event not tangled up in this boring blue-suited billionaire’s life one way or another?

Margo’s lonely “Oh.” in panel three demonstrates a great use of word balloon punctuation and white space.

For Better Or For Worse, 11/8/06

I imagine a crisis meeting over at Foob Central: “Dammit, people, we’re getting murdered by Funky Winkerbean in the depressing realism department! We need to bring out the big guns!” How else to explain this harrowing plot twist, in which Grandpa Jim’s fully functioning mind is trapped in a shattered shell of a body, unable to communicate and prevent his unbearable and continuous humiliation? I’m going to imagine him remembering the morse code he learned in his days in the Royal Canadian Air Force, desperately tapping out “KILL ME” on his portable tray with a spoon, hoping that Iris will stop smothering him emotionally and start smothering him with a pillow, while Metallica’s “One” blares on the soundtrack.

FW is really going to have to raise its game here. Wally’s gonna have to accidentally blow up a busload of Iraqi orphans and puppies, then shoot himself, if they want to keep up.

Curtis, 11/8/06

I’d like to ignore the usual tomfoolery with Derrick and “Onion” (something that’s all too easy to do) and focus on Curtis’ alarming laughing fit in panel three. I wonder if the word balloon had been predrawn to accommodate some much longer bit of exposition, and the iterative, punctuationless laughter was stuck in there in a fit of horror vacui, or if we are really meant to understand that Curtis mechanically repeated the word “Ha” 25 times.

In a move that further undermines this pair’s fearsome reputation, “Onion” (or maybe it’s Derrick, I don’t know) appears to be taking fashion tips from Dennis the Menace’s Joey.

Mark Trail, 11/8/06

By having Ranger Rick utter the phrase “hold up,” Mark Trail has now successfully deployed more street lingo than Curtis has in its entire run. No, really, take a look at the Curtis strip above. The part where Curtis says, “Oh, I’ll be!”

Spider-Man, 11/8/06

“Or didja ever see Hitler having dinner with a Romulan?” Jesus, this strip is weird.

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Spider-Man, 11/2/06

This is just one more reason to oppose out-of-control corporate media consolidation.

Crankshaft, 11/2/06

Not soon enough, you evil old man, not soon enough.

Gil Thorp, 11/2/06

“A tie, do you hear me, a tie! We’re monsters! What have we done? A tie!”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/2/06

Man, I think June played the race card kind of early in this dispute.

One Big Happy, 11/2/06

Hates boys? Sounds like she likes boys … a little too much.

…

OK, that … that was probably over the line.

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Spider-Man, 10/25/06

In a total violation of everything this strip stands for, Spider-Man has forced its dozens of readers to endure nineteen grueling days of exciting superhero-vs.-supervillain hand-to-hand combat. Fortunately, a good portion of this period was taken up by J. Jonah Jameson’s failed attempt to remove a camera lens cap. Today, at last, our long national nightmare is over, and we can get back to the feature’s bread and butter: toothless media satire, lame LA spoofery, and zany, vaguely homoerotic reaction shots from ol’ Flattop Hitler.

For Better Or For Worse, 10/25/06

Meanwhile, the Foobs return to the least harrowing of their ongoing storylines, as 4Evah and Eva try to simultaneously make their mark in the unforgiving novelty single market and demonstrate their total commitment to expunging the d sound from the end of and in Canadian English by the year 2020. While I commend Gerald’s passion, I question his marketing savvy, as he seems to believe that a 21st century Halloween song needs to be approached with the sort of deadly earnestness normally associated with Norwegian death metal, when clearly some kind of ironic distance is in order. Still, he doesn’t really deserve the tongue-lashing he gets in panel four. I can’t decide whether Eva is such a mega-diva that she can’t conceive of not speaking into her microphone so as to be heard by her many fans, or if she’s just trying to blow Gerald’s eardrums out completely so he’ll flee to an audiologist and leave the rest of them alone.

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Mark Trail, 10/5/06

Molly is a coward who would rather humiliate herself than fight.

Marmaduke, 10/5/06

Marmaduke is a sexual harassment lawsuit waiting to happen.

Pluggers, 10/5/06

Pluggers have senile dementia.

Spider-Man, 10/5/06

Hitler is a big fan of Nicole Kidman.

One Big Happy, 10/5/06

Aldo Kelrast really was the ghost of Captain Kangaroo.

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For Better Or For Worse, 9/16/06

You know, usually, when a woman pours her heart out to her big brother about her relationship worries, the appropriate response is to say something vague but reassuring, not, “Well, you know what they say: infidelity in this situation is essentially inevitable!” The final panel of the typical FBOFW includes some sort of play on words, but since Michael gets that out of the way with his devastating commentary, instead, our parting shot here is Lizardbreath looking at him with barely contained rage as he wanders smugly off. Michael Patterson: worst comics brother since Momma’s Francis.

Incidentally, what the hell is Liz wearing? Is she making up for her frumpy work clothes by changing into some kind of leopard-print leotard as soon as she gets home? And I like the way Deanna and Robin sort of aimlessly wander through the strip, just as a reminder that “hey, we still exist! And little Robin hasn’t succumbed to his mysterious illness! Yet! Stay tuned!”

For more excellent foobish hate, check out faithful reader yellojkt’s latest blog post, “The End Of The Foobiverse.

Spider-Man, 9/16/06

Hey, what the hell is this? Some kind of … evil individual … intent of committing crimes … a villain, one might say … except he has powers and abilities beyond those of ordinary humans … super powers, one might say … and he’s intent on fighting Spider-Man? This sort of storyline has no place in this feature! Isn’t there some drama to be wrung from, say, the mutual funds in the Parkers’ 401k plan not performing as well as they’d like?

I like the fact that one of Dr. Octopus’ wayward tentacles is holding what appears to be a cool, refreshing beverage of some kind. Hey, his powers aren’t used for evil all the time, OK?

Apartment 3-G, 9/16/06

You had your chance and you blew it, Ted. Your third-panel leer is both too late and counterproductive.

Funky Winkerbean, 9/16/06

You know, I’ve been following this strip again for more than a year, and I still haven’t caught up with all of its characters. I’m reasonably sure that this is the first time I’ve met Linda, the wife of the high school football coach. I was going to make some crack about the fact that her weird facial expression in the second panel makes her look like she’s suffered some sort of crippling stroke, but then I realized that this is Funky Winkerbean, and she probably has.

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Spider-Man, 9/7/06

When we last checked in with the web-slinger, he had just been knocked unconscious by a sinister butler. Since then, I have refrained from commenting on the various indignities this strip has visited upon its readership. When the murderous manservant drove out to a cliff where he had somehow prearranged a camera set-up to record his snuff film, I stayed silent. When Spider-Man spent an entire strip being held at gunpoint claiming in his thought balloons that he couldn’t move without endangering the suddenly not-evil Narna, then moved out of the way the very next day, I said not a word. When Narna tried to save our hero by flinging an enormous rock, only to hit him in the back of the head — despite the fact that, in the panel where she threw the rock, Spidey was facing towards her — I held my tongue.

But this — this — cannot stand. Here we have crimes not just against logic and good sense, but a violation of some of the core rules of this genre, in which we expect the villain to be defeated, in one sense or another, by the hero, and not to be rubbed out by his own incompetence as the hero lies groggy on the ground, felled by one of his allies. I’ll bet the writers think that this is ironic. It is not ironic. The introduction and then immediate solving of a problem in last year’s loathsome health insurance storyline was bad enough, but this is an abomination that cannot be so easily forgiven. I damn thee, Spider-Man! I damn thee to superhero hell in the name of the unwritten but well-understood contract between author and reader! Anathema, anathema!

Apartment 3-G, 9/7/06

Beer! Is there anything it can’t do? Beer looks like it’s about to get Tommie laid, which would make it the most powerful substance on earth.

Now, you and I both know that Tommie isn’t going to get laid, of course. No doubt right as Ted is about to make his drunken move, Lucy’s going to show up, begging for forgiveness, and either she’ll see the two of them together and further sitcom-style complications will ensue, or they’ll suddenly realize how foolish they’ve been and start macking right there in front of our poor forlorn redhead; or, even if Lucy stays in whatever adulterous love nest she’s been in for the past few months, Tommie will suddenly have an attack of righteousness and head on back to her cold, lonely bed in Apartment 3-G. So, no nookie for Tommie. But it won’t be beer’s fault.

Judge Parker, 9/7/06

Yeah, so I take back what I said before. I don’t think the glassy-eyed Abbey wants Raju to kiss her. I now think she’s just really, really high.

Pluggers, 9/7/06

So, you’re a Plugger if, uh, you’re forever haunted by the icy specter of death? Does Pluggers have any gears other than “smug” and “depressing?”

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Family Circus, 8/19/06

As the Family Circus family’s rerun trip to Chicago wears on, I was struck by just how damn excited Billy looks here. Not only is he radiating lines of pure joy, but he’s actually drooling. Either he’s had a sudden epiphany and now realizes how global megacorporations control every aspects of our lives — from the names of our great sports stadiums to the manufacture and marketing of the cheapest of grocery items — or he really, really likes gum. Honestly, I’m betting on the latter. Dolly looks pretty thrilled by the prospect of chewing on some Doublemint too, but mom and dad just sport numb, stuporous looks. Presumably they’ve realized that all the money they’ve just spent on baseball tickets and overpriced hats and t-shirts — to say nothing of hotel and airfare — has gone to waste, because they could have entertained their kids just as much by giving them a dollar and sending them to 7-11 to get some Bubblicious.

Six Chix, 8/19/06

Oh my God, Paul needs a sex ed refresher, stat! DUDE, IT DOESN’T WORK LIKE THAT.

Spider-Man, 8/19/06

Oh, wow. I for one have longed to refer to Spidey as a “costumed cretin” for some time. And to do it in an effete, slightly English accent. And to bash in the back of his head with a lead pipe. This has got to be the most satisfying Spider-Man ever.

In fact, this installment so pleased me that for a minute I failed to grasp its import. Spider-Man has singularly failed to battle a real live supervillain since April of 2005, and now we see why: he’s been easily neutralized by Narna’s totally non-super manservant. Why didn’t your spider-sense start tingling while Hugo was sneaking up on you with a bludgeon, Parker? Does it somehow magically not work on butlers? Christ.

Mary Worth, 8/19/06

Aldo’s fingers in panel two provide a good counterpoint to his dialog. I think he’s got a pretty accurate sense of the size of Mary’s black, shriveled heart.

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Spider-Man, 7/26/06

I’ve been trying very hard to ignore the slow-motion train wreck of idiocy that is this week’s Spider-Man, but I can turn away from it no longer. See, they’re filming the climactic elevator battle scene between Marvella (played by Mary Jane) and $1.99 Walgreens Plastic Halloween Cat Mask Woman (played by washed-up has-been Narna Lamarr) in a novel fashion: they’re putting them in a real elevator, with no microphones of any kind (otherwise Narna’s bitchy off-script taunts would be picked up) and having them improvise some fisticuffs. (I hear this is exactly how Robert Altman filmed most of McCabe & Mrs. Miller.) Apparently there are multiple cameras filming from multiple angles, with the fight being edited on the fly and fed directly into the VIEW SCREEN that Beardo the director and Peter Parker are watching. This is, it goes without saying, so bonecrushingly moronic that I fear that I’ve dropped five to ten IQ points just by typing this paragraph.

Note Peter’s thought balloon in panel two: he clearly has the relative inability to suspend his disbelief of a spider.

Crock, 7/26/06

So “Trooper Megan” appears to be not the butt of a one-off joke but a new addition to the lovable and poorly drawn Crock cast. To which I can only ask: why, why, why, for the love of God, why. I’ve just started reading this comic again for the first time in 15 years, and before Megan sashayed sexily onto the scene, the cast was exactly the same as it was when I graduated from high school. Is this supposed to be like Beetle Bailey, where a new “relevant” character gets added every five years or so? If so, this implies that the creators of this strip have just now discovered that women exist who don’t wear burqas. C’mon, Illegible Signature Crock-Writing Dude Whose Name It Is Not Worth My Time To Look Up: you’ve earned the right to cruise on with the same group of ham-handedly named Frenchmen that you’ve been cruising along with for decades now. Don’t make more work for yourself for no good reason — and trust me, this isn’t a good reason.

Ziggy, 7/26/06

Note to Ziggy, Inc.: The 35 Years of Ziggy Classics must amount to better than 10,000 cartoons; thus, I’m pretty sure you can get through the length of Tom II’s vacation without reprinting one that contains a totally dated current events punchline that wasn’t even funny when it was topical. I know it’s cheaper to use a robot arm to just select a comic out of the file cabinet at random rather than have someone use editorial judgement, but you might want to change that process, for quality-control purposes.

Apartment 3-G, 7/26/06

Man, look at that sad face in panel three. Because if it weren’t for totally-not-actually-happening-and-only-implied-by-a-totally-unrealistic-series-of-events-and-sitcom-style-misunderstanding action, she wouldn’t be getting any action at all.

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Pluggers, 7/19/06

With this three-pizza impulse-buy dinner, I begin to see the origin of both Rhino-Man’s rhino-like girth and his serious financial difficulties.

Apartment 3-G, 7/19/06

While you might think that this presages sitcom-style misunderstandings and complications and wackiness, Lucy knows full well, just like the rest of us, that nobody loves Tommie.

Spider-Man, 7/19/06

Hold on, there, Spidey, you forgot to take off your … no, wait, it’s going to be much funnier if he doesn’t realize.

Slylock Fox, 7/19/06

The world’s cheeriest pignappers are stealing the world’s smallest pig from the world’s jumpiest farmer.

Gasoline Alley, 7/19/06

I found this funnier than anything else in the comics today; does that make me a bad person?

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The Phantom, 7/1/06

“What’s he up to?” Well, if I had to guess, O Ghost Who Overthinks Things, I’d have to say that he’s planning to get into his helicopter gunship and machine-gun you to death from the air, where you can’t punch him. He’s just narrating his schemes aloud like any other comic-book villain; there’s no reason to dig deeper.

What exactly his that weird flap of skin between Chatu’s left arm and ripped torso? Did he lose a lot of weight recently? Is this whole escapade an attempt to get enough cash to afford cosmetic surgery?

Spider-Man, 7/1/06

First, Spidey accuses Narna of attempted murder. Now he’s downgraded his suspicions to vandalism. Pretty soon he’s going to battle her to stop her from thinking negative thoughts about his wife.

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Sorry I missed a day yesterday … all that Finger Quotin’ left me exhausted. But there’s a-doings a-transpiring in many a soaper, so we need to cover at least the high points…

Judge Parker, 6/22/06

Oh, snap! If you’re not following Judge Parker, this is Raju, junior-high-age Sophie’s Internet-recruited Indian “personal assistant,” who travelled to America thinking that she was a college student and hoping to woo her into marriage. There was a loathsome installment earlier this week where he weepingly told her that he had thought that she and he might make “little Rajus” together, but I think this strip, where she insults his teeth, is a lot funnier.

Spider-Man, 6/22/06

Yeah, because expressing jealousy towards someone is iron-clad proof that you planned to kill them. Way to use your relative jumping-to-conclusions ability of a spider, there, Parker.

Admittedly, sitting around your mansion watching films of your failed auditions with your creepy manservant is a little strange. A little strange and lot ripped off from Sunset Boulevard.

Mary Worth, 6/22-23/06

Oh, man, Mary’s little golf-cart-drivin’ Jeff fantasy is yesterday’s strip is just too, too delicious. But the narrative tension caused by the arrangement of the panels in today’s strip, combined with the look of grim resignation on Dr. Cory’s face, implies that there’s rough waters ahead for our senior citizen lovers. Is Jeff going to tell Mary that he’s leaving town to be with a seventeen-year-old girl he fell in love with on MySpace? Or is just upset that she demanded he wear that nice paramecium golf shirt she bought him for once? At least they’re not going to be twinsies if he shows up at this party today.

For Better Or For Worse, 6/23/06

God damn, Paul the Mountie will grab anyone’s ass.

I’m mainly posting this just to acknowledge that yes, you aren’t crazy, the strips on the FBOFW site really are blinking at you and yes, it plumbs depths of creepy that I didn’t even know existed before.

Funky Winkerbean, 6/23/06

I don’t want to say that this Funky Winkerbean plotline, in which the hot popular girl repeatedly throws herself at the dorky kid for no real reason, is some sort of wish fulfillment fantasy on the part of the artist, but … OK, actually, I guess I do want to say that. Dorky kid has been pretty freaked out for the duration, so I assume we’re going to learn a Valuable Lesson about high school chicks who go too fast and the nerds they terrify.

Mark Trail, 6/23/06

Man, this Mark Trail plot is turning out to be pretty awesome, and we haven’t even got to the tiger penises yet. I love how Kelly just lies around her pink bedroom in a slip lovingly copied from Liz Taylor’s Butterfield 8 get-up, plotting out loud and giving a look of evil sexiness to no one in particular.

One Big Happy, 6/23/06

It’s not a soap opera, but One Big Happy has been running with the same plot all week, which is sort of unusual. Can I just say I love Earl the vacuum cleaner fetishist a lot? You live that dream, Earl. You live it.

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Ye cats, while I was busy soaking in the sun and eating large quantities of grilled meat, this weekend’s comics were plugging along providing rich fodder for hilariousness. Let’s jump to them with no further ado!

Judge Parker, 5/27/06

Holy cow, it’s, like, the least subtle foreshadowing in the history of foreshadowing. You know what I think would be great? If this is, in fact, the last we see of April Bower. Not because I have anything against her, I just think it would be great if that smug bastard Sam’s prediction didn’t pan out.

I wonder about Sam’s pose in the last panel. Maybe all this talk of lawyer-on-secretary action, combined with Gloria’s sexy, sexy Judy The Time-Life Operator look, has convinced Sam to “take a dip in the office pool,” if you know what I mean. In panel three, he’s flashing her his expensive watch, as if to say, “This is the sort of bauble that could be yours if you agree to be my on-the-side woman.” By Gloria’s pinched facial expression in panel two, though, it seems that she can’t get past the disgusting thicket of hair on the back of his hands.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/27/06 and 5/29/06

Man, say what you will about FBOFW, but these strips show that it can still deliver. Specifically, it can deliver what I for one have been waiting for, which is Liz getting seriously called on her whiny suburban white girl shit. Take a look at the broad shoulders and quiet dignity of Canada’s Finest there, Lizardbreath: a year and a half from now, when the Spawn of Thérèse is throwing yet another temper tantrum and your mom is there offering unsolicited advice while Anthony is down at Gordo’s Car Emporium yukking it up as he fills his mustache with cinnamon bun crumbs, you’ll be thinking of Mr. Wright as you say “Wait! Did I really miss this? ‘Cause now I’m not sure!”

(Um. That last paragraph revealed both more in-depth knowledge of and more emotional investment in this strip than I frankly was aware that I harbored. Ratchet back, Josh, ratchet back.)

Mark Trail, 5/28/06

Damn, that lady in panel two’s gonna get crabs! Or, um, a crab. Heh. Crabs. I don’t have much to say about this strip, except that it’s one of the better “Mark Trail Teaches You About Nature” installments to come down the pike in quite a while. The sexy-lady-pokes-at-an-enraged-crab-with-a-stick action in the second panel is awesome, of course, as is the notion that crabs walk around weilding sea anemones as weapons. I have no idea if that’s true, but even if it isn’t, it’s one of those things that is so awesome, that if it isn’t true, it should be.

The Phantom, 5/28/06

Meanwhile, the Ghost-Who-Sleeps-Through-His-Wife’s-Kidnapping is, well, sleeping through his wife’s kidnapping. I’m puzzled by Diana’s cry for help in the last panel: I’m reasonably sure how you’d pronounce, say, “KIIIIIIT!!” But “KITTTT!!“? That’s a lot of Ts.

Spider-Man, 5/28/06

The studio may need Marvella, but apparently it doesn’t need Marvella’s costume. Or, specifically, it doesn’t seem to need any of the waist-up part of Marvella’s costume. Yikes!

Family Circus and Crock, 5/29/06

It’s the Battle of the Clumsily Deployed Catchphrases of the Moment! And the surprise winner is the Family Circus. Yes, the joke is lame and will be incomprehensible to anyone reading it 18 months from now, but there’s a certain charming pathos to it: Billy and Dolly glare at Jeffy with angry, piggish faces and jab at him with their fingers, while their little brother, with a tiny bit of control over his environment for once in his life, just closes his eyes, smiles slightly, and enjoys the moment. Crock, on the other hand, is Crock, and therefore sucks.

Slylock Fox, 5/29/06

Do you know why Slick Smitty has that big, self-assured grin on his face? Because he knows that, since he’s a human, a court run by animals has no legal jurisdiction over him. He may be guilty as sin, but he knows that half an hour after the verdict comes down, the court sketch artist will have his neck broken in a snap track and the prosecutor will be turned into a nice muff for his wife. For the sake of justice, we’d all better hope that the judge is a member of an endangered species.

Judge Parker, 5/29/06

And we’re right back where we started … or are we? Yes, today Judge Parker got a new artist — a new artist who has outfitted cult leader Mimi with the cutest paisley vest ever! Randy still looks like a tool, though that’s really unavoidable; at least he doesn’t look like a tool with a face like a monkey. The real test will come when two of the male characters are put in the frame at the same time; will we be able to tell them apart? Still, I for one am happy to offer a provisionally warm welcome to you, “Barreto,” whoever you are.

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Mary Worth, 5/26/06

The problem with this strip — well, let’s not call it a “problem” so much as a “totally awesome thing” — is that it sort of ignores sequential art’s usual left-to-right chronology. Thus, to the casual eye this exchange reads like this:

Kelly: …I started to spend less time with my husband!

Mary: That’s the spirit, Kelly!

Also, to the casual eye it looks like Kelly is psyching herself up to punch Lou in the face in panel two. That, also, is the spirit, as far as I’m concerned.

Spider-Man, 5/26/06

How many geeks now desperately hope to recreate this little scene, and its real-superhero-on-fake-superhero sexual aftermath, back at the hotel at the next big comics convention? So many noble dreams, just waiting to be shattered.

Ziggy, 5/26/06

At last, somebody has the guts to speak the truth to power. I just hope that when Tom II enters his 76th day of solitary confinement somewhere in Guantanamo Bay, the knowledge that he spoke up when nobody else would consoles him.

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Spider-Man, 5/10/06

Folks, if you’re tired from “Spider-Man is lame” posts from me, you should write angry letters to Stan Lee and demand that Spider-Man STOP BEING SO GODDAMN LAME. For those of you keeping track at home, the last time Spidey actually tangled with anything remotely resembling a supervillain was nearly a year ago, when he fought the Rhino. Since then, he battled a greedy but entirely human doctor out to patent his blood, which included a distasteful a sequence in which he briefly assumed the identity of “Gown Man”; and spent all of 2006 so far attempting to recapture his spider-suit (the relative suit of a spider!) from a suicidal loser, in the process taking on the sneer-worthy “Justice Guy” persona.

On Sunday, the strip’s teaser promised that at long last we’d be seeing a new nemesis for Spidey: the Panthress! Who of course is actually just a role played by Mary Jane’s sexy older costar. Presumably Spider-Man will have to battle her in some yawn-inducing manner that doesn’t involve web-slinging, wall-crawling, or kicking ass in any way, shape, or form. In fact, he’ll probably find some laughable reason to infiltrate the set under a new identity: Production Assistant Lad!

Jumble, 5/10/06

So the Jumble has strippers in it now? Huh. This is either a sign of “We’re desperate for readers and this is how low we’ll stoop” or “Nobody reads this anymore so we’re just going to put in zoo porn and see what happens.”

The presence of the grinning sailors — in full uniform — is a nice touch. I think it’s charming that the Navy keeps the old school white-bell-bottoms-and-black-cravat-and-little-hat get-ups in active service. I used to live in the San Francisco area, and during Fleet Week the whole town would be crawling with those guys, and they looked like they had walked right out of a World War II movie. It was the gayest thing I’ve ever seen, and I lived in San Francisco for nearly six years.

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Spider-Man, 4/21/06

Peter Parker’s crack about “real news” sparked an epiphany in my fevered brain. You know what would be awesome? Since clearly crime-fighting has gone out the window in this strip, Spidey should use his wall-crawling powers to become the world’s greatest paparazzo. He could kiss the Daily Bugle goodbye and make the big bucks sending photos of Paris Hilton, Tara Reid, Lindsay Lohan, and other typical celebutants to Us and InStyle and the like. Maybe he would journey to Namibia to see Brad and Angelina’s new baby, or tussle with Tom Cruise and Mel Gibson. “This Parker always gets the best pictures!” his glamorous new non-Hitler-lookalike editors would say (“though they’re always at such odd angles,” they would add). Peter would be earning as much as his wife, and then we’d have a whole story arc about the morality of his new way of earning a living. “They chose a career in the public eye … they’re asking for it!” Peter would say. “But Peter … I’ve chosen that life too!” Mary Jane would retort. Eventually, he’d be assigned to take pictures of his own wife, and they he’d have some hard choices to make.

You know what wouldn’t be awesome? Eight more weeks of Peter sitting in front of the TV and bitching. But I suspect that’s what we’re gonna get.

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Luann, 4/12/06

Um, Gunth, you are my brother in persecution and all, but I have to tell you that you aren’t a victim of guy-bashing. You’re a victim of nerd-bashing. There’s a difference.

Meanwhile, in the world of superhuman heroics:

Worry not about your fears, ordinary men and women! Spider-man is on the case!

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Spider-Man, 2/20/06

What the exclamation point Peter Parker is uttering in panel three ought to mean: “Whoa! My wife is making enough money to support both of us and doesn’t want me to work! Now I can dedicate myself to fighting crime full-time without worrying about money — or, better yet, dedicate myself to watching TV and drinking expensive hooch full-time without worrying about money!”

What the exclamation point Peter Parker is uttering in panel three almost certainly is actually supposed to mean: “Oh, no, I’m too macho to handle any woman taking care of me blah blah blah stupid pointless boring wrong-headed crap.”

I know I’ve harped on this before, but seriously, dude: With great power comes great responsibility. And with a rich wife comes zero responsibility. So get with the program!

(I will step back from my Spidey-hating long enough to acknowledge being pleased by panel one: Peter hangs up on his boss so vigorously, the phone glows!)

Apartment 3-G, 2/20/06

Yeah, I realize that the disheveled hair is just comics visual shorthand for Having A Rough Week, presumably meant to ease any illiterate Apartment 3-G fans into the storyline’s events. But wouldn’t it be great if Margo’s normally perfectly primped bun got unwound during some kind of peacock-wrangling episode gone horribly awry? I know that I can only ever see that in my mind, but is it wrong to try to see it in my mind again and again?

Blondie 2/20/06

I don’t really have much specific to say about this. I just wanted to record here for posterity the moment when Blondie went completely insane.

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Holy cow, Spider-Man and his wife just had spider-sex … the proportionate sex of a spider!

Er. Next week, this blog will feature lots more comics zaniness, and lots less whining and bellyaching. Promise. Until tomorrow, please enjoy the sophmoric humor above.

Oh, unrelated, but: those of you who enjoy Drink At Work may have noticed that they haven’t been updating this week either. In their case, this is not due to sheer laziness as with me, but rather is due to technical problems. Does anyone reading this consider themselves an expert with using Blogger with an external Web host? ‘Cause they sure could use your help. Here’s the contact info.

Oh, one more sophmoric jab before I give this week up as a bad job, blogging-wise:

Uh, yeah, “tongue thing.” Yeah. Ew.

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Happy New Year, everybody! How was your Chrismakkuhzatice? I got me a bunch of real nice presents, both comics-related (Complete Calvin and Hobbes, In the Shadow of No Towers, Persepolis) and otherwise. Meanwhile, of course, the various comics have marched on in their merry ways. There was some Christmas cheer:

At Christmas dinner, Judge Parker’s Sam Driver felt a need to not only help cook but to dress up as a chef for some odd reason. Is that a cravat he’s wearing? Or is it the front of a cape? Is he supposed to be “Chef Man”?

Gil Thorp took Christmas day as an opportunity show off both his freakish family (I think his son played Steve Austin’s boss in the Six Million Dollar Man) and his ability to speak in cursive.

And Mark Trail got to show off just which side of the War on Christmas he’s on. Notice that Jesus gets glossed over in the opening panels (which many newspapers don’t even print) so as to give more space to Santa, the gift-giving pagan nature-spirit amalgam who has supplanted our Lord and Savior in the greedy, greedy hearts of America’s children. At least we don’t have to stare at any more reindeer ass.

Not everyone took time off for the holidays, either:

Apartment 3-G’s Lu Ann cheered us all up with the most revealing outfit in the history of Apartment 3-G. Her little black dress makes Tommie’s clashing-greens golf shirt/sweatshirt combo look even more like something out of the late Victorian age.

In Spider-Man, some suicidal schmuck has decided that offing himself in Spidey’s accidentally discarded costume would be good for a larf. His worries about being “corny” are clearly misplaced, as this comic is a nonstop cavalcade of cheese.

Mary Worth’s Jane ex-Hand has instantly aged twenty years in deciding to instigate the most ludicrous tort case in the history of common law. Her case against “Ask Wendy” will no doubt be soon followed by cases brought against syndicated horoscope writers for failing to predict disaster and against Omar Sharif for shoddy bridge advice.

Mark Trail remains boring beyond belief, but now the dog-lovin’ hillbilly gal has magically turned blonde.

Anyway, hopefully this little catch-up whets your appetite for all things comical and curmudgeonly in 2006. Many people take milestones like the end of the year to re-evaluate their creative endeavors, or take their pet projects to the next level. Well, I have absolutely no big plans or surprises for you in the new year. You’ll get more of the same and you’ll like it! Well, there’s one exception: I hearby declare the end of “First Post.” Seriously. Put a comment on this site that serves no purpose but to indicate that you posted first and it will be purged forevermore by me. You have been warned! Josh has spoken!

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Mark Trail, 11/1/05

You may have noticed that Mark Trail dropped off my radar in late August. That’s because, despite a set-up that promised grim power struggles, attempted murder, and mouth-foaming insanity, nothing has happened of any interest for weeks and week and oh god oh god no no no no. Boyd was going to have rabies … except then he didn’t … but then he did … but then he got back to a hospital in time. Scott and Lynn were going to try to murder him … but then they didn’t, except for this one really half-assed attempt on Lynn’s part. After many sitcom-level almost-revelations, at least we actually found out that Scott was destined to guide BoydCo into the glorious future of … whatever … it is … that … it does. And today we learn that Lynn’s mighty slap on Scott’s face a few days ago precipitated the end of their scheming, murderous union. Hopefully a future strip will show Scott stepping over Lynn in the gutter as he strides with his new, non-sociopathic wife into a fancy country club.

There’s only one thing standing in the way of that glorious vision: Scott’s swung so far from bad to good that he’s going to spill the beans on his previous designs. This, it seems to me, is a Bad Idea. There’s two ways that this could go: either the two gentlemen could have a hearty, manly laugh about that whole attempted-murder thing, which will just reinforce Mark Trail’s camp value at the expense of any other value of any kind; or the confession could trigger Boyd’s latent rabies, and he’s just gonna start biting the hell out of stuff. Either way, it’s all good with me.

Speaking of quick and laughable resolutions:

Spider-Man, 11/1/05

Is every potentially hazardous encounter between Spidey and this dastardly doctor going to be resolved by dumb luck? Has Peter Parker been endowed with the relative deus ex machina-inducing ability of a spider? Is Spider-Man going to come perilously close to exposing himself in every strip from now on? Keep tuning in to find out!

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So I slacked off the whole weekend, going off “having fun” and “enjoying myself” instead of posting comics for your amusement. O the shame! And during such a wacky weekend for the serials, too. Here’s a quick recap, one panel at a time:

Tommie and Lu Ann showed off their synchronized head bobbling.

“Brick” House showed off his vocabulary.

Mimi let her cloaking device briefly disengage and showed off the steel hair and terrifying, alien visage that keeps her EON minions in line.

Dr. Jeff showed off his mastery of platitudes.

And Spider-Man showed off … well, I’m not really comfortable talking about what Spider-Man showed off.

Meanwhile, in da hood…

Curtis, 10/17/05

Holy cow, Curtis is getting interesting! First it gets rid of one side of the comics’ least interesting love triangle, then it takes on gun-fueled school violence! No doubt by the time you read this you’ll know who’s holding that gun, but right now I’m on tenterhooks. Is it Chutney? Gunk? Barry? Or just another kid who listened to a little too much “Fortyounce” or “Bullet-Wound,” which is going to result in a Valuable Lesson About Media Violence?

Oh, and speaking of boring love triangles and violence:

Luann, 10/17/05

Yeah, just visiting a pal … in the back seat of his moving car! Seriously, did Dirk just materialize behind Brad completely unbidden and announced? Am I missing something here? Is the Dirk storyline going to be resolved in the only way that will make it all worthwhile: with the revelation that “Dirk” is a figment of Brad’s imagination, a representation of his untrammeled, unrepressed id combined with his repressed homoerotic fantasies? A guy can dream, can’t he?

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Spider-Man, 8/26-29/05

It many not come across in the positive, happy-go-lucky demeanor I project here, but I can be a moody and vengeful bastard. For instance, way back in January, I suggested that Kraven was kind of a lame super-villain. Someone out there on the Web, running one of these newfangled “blogs” you’ve no doubt heard about, tore me a new one on this point, saying that it was just proof that I didn’t understand the whole je ne sais quoi of Spider-Man, that I was trashing something that I knew nothing about, blah blah blah. (Alas, I didn’t save the link for later brooding purposes.)

Well, Mr. Internet Blogger Know-It-All, I’m straining my already overtaxed bandwidth allowance to present here proof positive that Spider-Man, the newspaper comic, is lame, and that Spider-Man, the character, is dumber than a sack of hammers.

For those of you not following along at home, Peter Parker has finally, after much wheedling, managed to extract some HEALTH INSURANCE out of his skinflint, Hitler-lookalike boss. Unfortunately, our hero now must submit himself to the indignity of a physical, and he’s afraid his arachnoid physique will be revealed.

In the first two strips above, he’s busy dwelling on all this when, in one of the most blatant instances of strip-padding I’ve seen in all my years of comics-reading, a conflict is introduced (via a Truman-era intercom system) only to be resolved, with no action on the part of any of the on-stage characters, the next day. I can’t even begin to describe how deeply unsatisfying this is from a narrative and dramatic perspective. Imagine if Shakespeare had used this technique:

GHOST
Now, Hamlet, hear:
‘Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard,
A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark
Is by a forged process of my death
Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth,
The serpent that did sting thy father’s life
Now wears his crown.

HAMLET
Aw, NO!

FORTINBRAS
O proud death,
What feast is toward in thine eternal cell,
That thou so many princes at a shot
So bloodily hast struck?
Except for Hamlet, who wasn’t killed
Someone else offed Claudius instead.

HAMLET
Saved by the bell!

Peter Parker, meanwhile, proves that he has the proportionate IQ of a spider: not only did he forget to remove his “spider threads” before the inevitable “customary” medical exam semi-nudity, but he’s chosen to reveal said threads to provide a visual counterpart to his cretinous internal monologue. Sorry, Spidey, but for this desperately retarded move, you deserve a few days locked in a cage in some sort of clean room down at CIA headquarters. Good luck with that.

Anyway, to sum up: Spider-Man is dumb. But does Sunday’s Olivia Newton-John-derived teaser make up for it all? Not quite. But almost.

(Apropos of nothing, a few months ago the future Mrs. C. and I were cooling off in a wading pool at Paramount’s Great America when we saw someone walk by with a giant inflatable chunk of Spider-Man merchandising. She pointed out that it’s pretty hilarious to pronounce “Spider-Man” like it’s a Jewish last name, with the last syllable de-emphasized. As in, “Oy, why do we have to have Passover at the Spidermans every year? There’s always this weird webbing stuff in the haroset.”)

Meanwhile, proving that Peter Parker is not in fact the dumbest character in the comics, let’s take a moment to enjoy Scott Gaines’ little oops-I-proposed-by-accident temper tantrum.

Because if you think she’s going to be turned off by a blurted-out proposal, wait until she gets a load of the post-blurted-out-proposal hissy fit.

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For Better Or For Worse, 7/27/05

(Once again, not gonna piss off Mt. Foob by posting the strip here. No, sir. Read it here.)

So let’s take stock of feminism north of the border, shall we? Remember, a woman can do anything a man can do! Operate heavy machinery or what have you! And if you try to tell ’em otherwise, why, you’re nothing but an boorish jerk with a receding hairline and a misshapen skull and a … a … weird little … thing in the middle of your forehead! Yeah! Jerk!

This only applies, of course, to women who haven’t had kids. Once you’ve had a baby, of course, your job is to stay home and raise ’em. Yup, that’s what’s in your future till they can take care of themselves! What’s that? You say that you’re committed to your career and that your husband is perfectly willing to take over the childcare duties? You think that sounds like an equitable arrangement? Wrong! The gods of narrative will make sure that you come across as an emasculating wench, you … you … francophone!

Meanwhile, let’s see the proof that spider-sense doesn’t make for good financial sense.

Spider-Man, 7/27/05

Yeah, because the last thing I’d want if I had a high-stress job, time-consuming job that paid exactly nothing — like, say, being a superhero — would be for my wife to suddenly become extraordinarily wealthy. I mean, dude, you can climb up walls and what not, and now you’re feeling inadequate because you make less than your woman? I would definitely like to sign up for this sort of marital problem. I’m sure I’ll feel a twinge of discomfort, just before I dive head first into my Scrooge McDuck-style swimming pool of money that I didn’t have to work for.

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Spider-Man, 5/26/05

Yeah, so here’s the thing, MJ: Your husband has super powers. He’s single-handedly saving the special effects department millions. As for you, we’re not even sure you’re a real redhead.

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From Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 4/24/05

Only the throwaway front-matter gag is worth commenting on in Sunday’s BB & SS, and it’s only worth commenting on to the extent that it enrages me. But boy, does it enrage me. Here’s a tip: when you make jokes that emphasize the weird, Depression-era limbo in which these hill folks seem to live most of the time, sometimes the strip is amusing. When you take transient catchphrases from the late ’90s and try to play them off as “cool,” it just feeds my rage … rage … RAGE!

Anyway, since I have nothing to say about these panels except that I hate them, I thought I’d turn to more pleasant matters and point out that I am slowly but surely falling in love with the “next” teasers that come at the end of Sunday editions of Spider-Man. They’re ludicrously overblown, no doubt on purpose. There’s this:

And this:

And, my personal favorite, this:

Yes, who does have the rhino? I’m sure there are versions of these that you can come up with for other comic strips, which exercise I leave to you, my eager commenting minions of humorous evil.

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Spider-Man, 4/5/05

City boy that I am, I don’t have much experience with large odd-toed ungulates; so, when the Rhino announced that he’s “got the speed of a rhino,” I had to laugh. Rhinos are huge, lumbering animals! This boast is like claiming to have “the strength of a hamster” or “the intelligence of a brick!” But I figured that before I scoffed at this claim here, I ought to do a little research on ye olde Internet; and sure enough, rhinos can rumble forward at thirty miles an hour, which, if you parse the fourth-grade-math-word-problem construction of the Rhino’s monologue, you’ll realize is how fast he’s claiming to run here. I’m a little dubious that either a rhino or the Rhino can actually sustain this speed for a whole hour, but I preemptively retract my mockery in any case.

I’m still bitter at the Rhino for making learn stuff, though. (Don’t you know that if I wanted to find out interesting facts about animal life, I’d read Mark Trail?) That’s why I’m going to make fun of his retarded outfit. Hey, the Rhino: That’s the lamest supervillain outfit I’ve ever seen! Kraven looks like Sigfried or Roy’s just-a-smidge-less-fabulous back-up; you look like you got kicked off of a furry sex commune because your mom did such a crappy job on your costume! Plus, everyone knows that actual rhinos have one horn, not two! Jerk.

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Spider-Man, 1/13/05

When I did my first Spider-Man comic, almost a month ago now, I said, “Presumably the ass-kicking will begin in due time.” Oh, how naive I was! How, bitterly, bitterly wrong I have been proved to be! In that time we’ve had marital spats, a little aimless Web slinging, a press conference to announce the opening of new theme restaurant, and the firing of an incompetent waiter. The closest we came to ass-kicking was when Kraven brushed aside some no-doubt trained crocodiles. And now … this! “Cage of loneliness?” I have to sit through some camped-up supervillain’s attempts to flirt via ham-handed metaphors?

I tell you, there’d better be some damn ass-kicking soon, or Stan Lee will be getting a very nasty note.

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Spider-Man, 12/15/04

One of the great joys of starting to read a new serial comic strip in the middle of a storyline is the feeling of loopy disorientation you get trying to get a hold on events as they unfold at a rate of three panels a day. With some strips, the problem is that nothing at all seems to be happening, and then it just keeps on not happening (e.g., Steve Roper and Judge Parker); with others, you have lots of jarring changes in focus and incomprehensible action because about seventeen things are happening at once to people who all look alike (e.g., Gil Thorp).

Then there’s Spider-Man (or, perhaps more properly, The Amazing Spider-Man). I already know the basics about Spider-Man (he does everything a spider can, yadda yadda), and of course the superhero genre features its share of outlandish clothing, but I was definitely not prepared for that … outfit … that this “Kraven” person has on. I mean, where to start? With the textured cape, designed to look like a lion’s mane? With the cat-like eyes, strategically placed over the nipples? The chain across the front, over the washboard abs? The skintight leopard-print pants with matching arm and wrist bands? The animal-tooth studded belt?

In short, the dude is pretty fly. Despite the fact that he’s obviously dressed for supervilliany, though, this week’s Spider-Man mostly involves a rather pissy verbal exchange between Kraven and Spidey in front of the paparazzi. Presumably the ass-kicking will begin in due time.

Superhero comics are good for sound effects, too. Note the FWIPP in panel two — the extra P is for extra, um, spideryness. Also, Kraven may be some sort of bad-ass lion-themed criminal mastermind, but he still says “Sigh” aloud, Charlie Brown-style.