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Slylock Fox, 6/22/09

Generally speaking I feel the members of Slylock Fox’s rogues gallery are unjustly persecuted by the snoopy vulpine detective. Slylock’s pursuit of Cassandra obviously goes much deeper than his ostensible law-enforcement goals; Reeky Rat‘s only crime is dreaming bigger than his low place on the social totem pole would allow; even Slick Smitty deserves our sympathy as the lone human in a nightmarish world of talking animals.

But Shady Shrew … well, even when the evidence against him is thin, it’s hard to work up a lot of sympathy for him, because he’s obviously a creepy loser. His schemes aren’t executed with any panache or style, let alone competence. Take today’s strip, for instance. Doesn’t insurance fraud seem kind of pedestrian and degrading when compared to the thefts and mad science perpetrated in this feature? This is even less creative than his moon rock scam. And the wrong-way bending of the guardrail indicates a lack of attention to detail that makes whole sordid episode not even sporting. Slylock, presumably disgusted, has no doubt pulled out his magnifying glass so as to beat the shrew about the head and neck with it until the uniformed officers arrive.

Beetle Bailey, 6/22/09

I’m sure we could all have lots of fun coming up with homoerotic interpretations of the dialogue here, but that would distract us from the real issue, which is: what the hell is the deal with Sarge’s right hand. I guess his thumb is supposed to be tucked inside his clenched fingers, but really, who makes a fist like that? And honestly, it looks less like “thumb is tucked inside clenched fingers” and more like “no thumb at all and fat, rubbery tentacles curled up at the end of his palm.” It gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Apartment 3-G, 6/22/09

I’m sorry, what if Margo is right about everything? Margo should punish you for even thinking that she might be wrong about anything, ever, but the universe will obviously exact a terrible vengeance on you for your act of heretical Margo-doubt in short order, Nora.

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Luann, 6/9/09

Say, did somebody mention “view[ing] Luann’s treatment of human sexuality with mingled fascination and horror”? Oh, yeah, I did! Well, today’s strip offers an insight into the origins of the squick that hangs over this feature like a squirm-inducing black cloud by proposing a typical fair as some sort of carny-staffed aphrodisiac. Let’s go over each item presented as potentially arousing in turn, shall we?

• The smells: A heady melange of fryer grease, unwashed barnyard animal, sweaty humans, feces from said animals, and barf from said humans.
• The food: Dripping in grease and inappropriately deep fried.
• The rides: “Wait, has this thing been inspected by anybody? I don’t like that grinding noise it’s making, and I don’t think the door is shutting all the way … also, it’s hard to grip onto the handlebar, because somebody appears to have puked on it.”
• The animals: Sheep, pigs, and cows, all trotted out of their barns so they can be inspected by those who plan to kill and butcher them!

In other words, the “whole hot, earthy, exciting atmosphere” is a tremendous boner-killer for any right-thinking person. I’m frankly amazed that the Tilt-a-Whirl upchuck incident didn’t just turn Mr. DeGroot on further.

Mark Trail, 6/9/09

There is absolutely no strip on the comics page today that can deliver the laughs like Mark Trail. I certainly hope that the Williams Chemical Company is an enormous publicly traded multinational corporation, and that Mark spends a baffling day being shuffled between the plant manager, the operations manager, the CEO, the COO, the chief environmental officer, the chief quality officer, the chairman of the board, and the heads of the major stockholder factions before becoming frustrated and just punching out postindustrial capitalism itself.

Apartment 3-G, 6/9/09

“Wait … Eric is such a nobody that this newscaster can’t even remember his name without reading it off a sheet of paper? GASP! I must break off the engagement at once!”

Family Circus, 6/9/09

Well, Jeffy, it looks like you’re going to have to take some of that stuff out of your suitcase before you leave! Don’t worry, I’m sure that the other children at the orphanage will be happy to share their toys and clothes with you!

Funky Winkerbean, 6/9/09

“HA HA HA HA HA! Get it! I took what you said, but then reversed it! HA HA HA HA HA! Hey, wait a minute, are your pants unbuttoned?”

Panel from Spider-Man, 6/9/09

Meanwhile, over in Spider-Man, Wolverine is posing for his yearbook photo.

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B.C., 6/3/09

Part of being a smug jerk on the Internet who makes fun of other people’s life work is never having to say you’re sorry, but I do feel like I need to mildly backtrack on the issue of B.C. I still believe quite firmly in the principle that comic strips should die or retire with their creators; but we won’t be living in such a perfect world any time soon, and I do have to say that over the last two years the new post-Johnny Hart B.C. has gone from terrible to kind of amusing, in a new and goofy way. I admit to being actively tickled by today’s installment, not so much because of the “turtle sexual harassment and retaliatory violence” angle, but because of it implies that turtle sex involves a dude turtle slipping out of his own shell and into the lady turtle’s shell. Which is anatomically laughable, of course, but can you visualize how turtles do it? A recent visit to the awesome Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum did acquaint me with this legitimate educational display, but I still have questions. (Warning: that second link may not be safe for work, if your workplace is uptight about turtle sex.)

Mary Worth, 6/3/09

Well, it looks like Adrian is safely paired off with the son of the one man her father ever loved, which should make for a blissfully perfect life partnership marred only by occasional awkwardly overenthusiastic Christmas visits. Now we’re moving to the next plot, which begins as a young woman phones Mary to tell her that she’s “taking a break” from her marriage. Rather than use the opportunity to get drunk a lot and bed innumerable younger men, this lunatic has decided to spend her newly single days living with Mary Worth, whom she considers to be “like a mother.” Based on the past several years of reading this strip, Mary is the kind of mother who never calls or even mentions this poor girl, but that doesn’t stop her from reacting to the prospect of a hapless meddlee coming to live her with the kind of blissed-out facial expression normally only possible with the aid of powerful, mood-altering narcotics.

As the leaves around our squirrelly friend in panel one indicate, beautiful late spring has come to Santa Royale, which means that the new victim’s introduction to Charterstone can take one form and one form only: pool party. Seriously, I don’t think we’ve seen a wonderful Santa Royale pool party since, what, Mary’s terribly misguided attempt to set up Dr. Drew and Vera? FAR TOO LONG. No pool party, no peace!

Cathy, 6/3/09

36 months after the innovator (They’ll Do It Every Time, of blessed memory) and 33 months after the laggard (Curtis), Cathy finally catches on to the one fail-safe comedy gold comics trope: jeans that are brand new, but look all beat up! Ha ha! Mercy!

Apartment 3-G, 6/3/09

“You know, like you, who bullies and ignores me by turns! Or what’s-her-name, the blonde, who left the state months ago and I haven’t talked to since! And … uh … you know, maybe I should rethink this.”