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One Big Happy, 8/27/09

You might think that my favorite One Big Happy character would be Ruthie, standing as she does on the knife’s edge between adorable high-spirited child and wild-eyed maniac. But I’m actually pretty partial to Joe’s moments in the spotlight, as it’s easy to see the belligerent and unemployed 25-year-old in his future. I thoroughly enjoy his third-panel soliloquy in particular, with its casual use of “do me one” and “aw right” (let’s ignore for the moment the fact that “don’t poke my eye in the bouncy house” sounds positively filthy); and I love the fact that whatever adult that retreating back in panel one belongs to has completely checked out by the end of the comic, leaving Joe to angrily berate a plastic penguin.

Mary Worth, 8/27/09

My goodness, is this the first evidence we’ve had that Mary is not, in fact, omniscient? Mary seems to think that all Delilah did was wander around the sterile Chartersone grounds for a bit ruminating on how great it was to be married to the bland, emotionally absent Lawrence; she apparently knows nothing about Delilah’s visit to Charley’s terrifying sex lair. Is Mary not perhaps the all-seeing, all-controlling puppetmaster that she seems to be? Or is she simply leaving out the most exciting part of this story because she fears that Tobey, too, will be tempted to test her devotion to her bearish Scottish spouse by checking out her neighbor’s art … of a kind?

Gil Thorp, 8/27/09

Well, this Gil Thorp summer storyline got dulled up real fast, with rage-maddened stalker Marty DeJong instantly finding personal fulfillment in coaching poor children. But the second panel is pretty poignant, with Marty saying that striking someone out — something he’ll never do again, since he blew his arm out under “Coach” Thorp’s “care” — is the best feeling a human being can experience. Presumably after dropping Casper off at home, Marty will go quietly hang himself from a tree in the Thorps’ front yard; it’s the sort of thing that would devastate Gil, if Gil were the type of guy who cared about things.

Apartment 3-G, 8/27/09

You know, if Margo or even Lu Ann were to tell some dapper gentleman “I want to thank you for last night,” she would mean “I want to thank you for the new heights of physical pleasure we reached together last night.” But this is Tommie, so she means “Thanks for the subtle unpaid grief counseling you offered to my much more interesting roommate last night,” obviously.

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Jumble, 8/25/09

I’ve been doing this blog for (ye gods) more than five years now, and in that time I’ve learned that cartoonists are charming, funny, wonderful people who are incredibly good-natured and have a sense of humor about what I do here, even if I’m cruelly mocking their life work. This is true of the ones who contact me, at least; there may in fact be dozens of comics artists out there seething at my scorn, but they have yet to start hurling bricks through my window. Anyway, the reason I bring this up is that some comics artists actually go out of their way to ask why I don’t make fun of them, and among those people is Jumble artist Jeff Knurek (whose last name always looks to me like a Jumble clue, but I digress). Although I have noted this feature a couple of times in the past (drawing zoophilic perversions always helps you get into this blog), I have submitted to his urgings and am now approaching his puzzle comic anew! Anyway, today’s comic proves that Mr. Knurek has sadly confused “astrologer” with “low-rent Elvis impersonator,” and “crystal ball” with “ball of yarn.”

Reading the Jumble also reminds me of the fact that it makes me feel stupid, because I’m not actually smart enough/don’t have the attention span to solve the puzzle, ever. Crosswords I love, but my brain stubbornly refuses to rearrange word scrambles into the correct configuration. Thus, I’m always getting the joke a day late and out of context, since I do read the answers faithfully. In that regard, I feel obliged to point out that “MIRTH SKIMP CROTCH PENURY” seems to tell a delightful little tale about wasting all your money on prostitutes.

Ziggy, 8/25/09

How much abuse does Ziggy take in his titular comic-panel? It’s unquantifiable, but it’s a lot. Today’s installment includes a common Ziggy stance, in which our hero twists his little hat nervously while being berated just for being Ziggy (in this case, by the main character from the recent Pixar hit Up, slumming). You don’t see Ziggy actually wearing his hat very often, but you do see him clutching at it anxiously quite a bit; it seems to mostly serve as a prop for his pathetic cringing. The fact that he has props for his pathetic cringing goes a long way towards explaining why Ziggy’s abuse elicits more vague disgust than sympathy.

Family Circus, 8/25/09

Good lord, it’s a very bad sign for the blackout violence to start at such a young age. It looks like Dolly’s going to have to be chained up in the basement with the other four Keane Kids you never hear about.

Apartment 3-G, 8/25/09

Oh, yeah, you know what helps alleviate the grief? GRIEF SEX! [insert porn “bown chicka bowp bown” music here]

Judge Parker, 8/25/09

Oh, yeah, you know what helps alleviate the pain of minor injuries? MINOR INJURY SEX! [insert porn “bown chicka bowp bown” music here]

Ha ha, just kidding, obviously. If you saw some fiendish hell-demon crawling towards you with a sexy woman’s body and a yawning inky black emptiness where its face should be, you wouldn’t start unbuttoning your shirt to reveal your heaving bosom; you’d run screaming into the woods, severe ankle sprain be damned.

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Beetle Bailey, 8/23/09

While there’s a long and noble history of enlisted men holding their superior officers in scarcely disguised contempt, I’m a bit concerned about the next to last panel here, in which the men of Camp Swampy visualize the country they’ve sworn to protect as a smoldering ruin, barely held together by primitive bandages. Has the rampant incompetence so frequently on display in Beetle Bailey infected the rest of the military, leading to a successful invasion? Or do Beetle and his platoonmates simply hate America?

The ruined United States in the thought balloon is also horribly misdrawn, with northern New England lopped off, half of Mexico annexed, and the Great Lakes reduced to a greenish blob, but since Americans are notoriously ignorant of geography, this is simply par for the course.

Funky Winkerbean, 8/23/09

The content of today’s Funky Winkerbean, in which Les demands that Summer listen to a terrible joke that serves as a very thin layer over his pain over her mother’s death, still raw more than a decade later, is pretty depressing. Still, things may be looking up, as this little father-daughter moment appears to be illuminated by the bright glow of some all-consuming fire. Perhaps a nuclear attack on Westview will finally release the damned inhabitants from their misery.

Marvin, 8/23/09

Since this is Marvin we’re talking about, for “college” we should read “prison,” obviously.

Panels from Apartment 3-G, 8/23/09

HEY, EVERYONE, MARGO IS TALKING ABOUT HER LADY BITS RIGHT THERE IN THE SUNDAY PAPER OH MY GOODNESS