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Ziggy, 12/12/08

Here’s a disturbing trend in Ziggy (more disturbing even than the fact that bankrupt newspapers everywhere continue to pay good money for Ziggy): two days in a row of someone/something in the background doing something ill-drawn and mysterious, while Ziggy sports his Eyebags Of Despair (today accented with the Crooked Mouth Of Anguish). I guess the “joke” here is that Ziggy has had his heart-boxer-wearing ways revealed by some TSA goon, who, in unrelated news, is spectacularly high. Ziggy is humiliated by this, for some reason! It is curious, however, that Ziggy is even packing underwear in his suitcase, considering he never wears anything below the waist. Perhaps his excuse for his constant pantslessness is “But I don’t own any pants! Or underwear!” And now he’s been caught in that lie, and everyone knows he’s just an exhibitionist pervert.

(Most of us are not so shy about our underwear pattern choices, but whatever.)

Mark Trail, 12/12/08

Andy is untying Mark’s bonds. By, you know, licking them. Licking them. That … that. Wow. He’s licking the knots open. I don’t think … I … wow. Just. Yeah. Um.

Apartment 3-G, 12/12/08

“Whoa, sarcasm!” That is the high point of this little exchange, which sits at a roughly fifth-grade-level, both in terms of the quality of the wit and of the grasp of America’s innocent-until-proven-guilty legal system. Still, I’m becoming increasingly fascinated by Margo’s collar; like a cobra’s hood, it flares out angrily when external threats present themselves.

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Luann, 12/8/08

So, the last time I ranted about the overarchingly gross “sexiness” in Luann, a commentor claimed that, because I’m obviously a horny male type, I was primarily angered by the strip’s refusal to reward Brad with sexual access to Toni (and Gunther with the same to Luann). Obviously I have not been getting my point across, as nothing could be further from the truth; in fact, there are few things that I would find more distasteful, on both an aesthetic and an emotional level, than the prospect of Brad having sex.

Here’s what drives me batty about this strip’s treatment of romantic relationships: everything’s all presented to us as if its something that’s supposed to make us all hot and bothered, and yet it’s not erotically charged at all, both because of the need to stay within the strict bounds of newspaper strip acceptable content rules and because of the extreme hamhandedness of it all. The fact that it all reinforces the whole “Women are mysterious and manipulative and men are doomed to be trapped forever in their sexual thrall” thing just adds some extra ick.

I’d dearly love nothing more than to stop thinking about the sexual lives of the characters in Luann, but it seems like every other storyline in the strip is entirely about their sexual lives, veiled by this layer of propriety that’s all the more baffling considering how blatant the winking and nudging is. The result is that it’s like a dirty joke told by an ten year old, today’s example being a prime example. “Hey, Toni, I was just thinking about you because … melons! Ha ha! Get it? Because they look like… you know! Ha!” Christ.

I had an epiphany the other day, actually, that what it all most reminds me of is the classic SNL “Tales of Ribaldry” sketch, in which Jon Lovitz plays a regency-era fop who gets hilariously worked up by hints at sex but becomes outraged when actual sex starts occurring — and whaddya know, thanks the magic of the Internet, you can actually stream those old sketches from NBC, totally legally, so here’s one for those of you too young/old/classy to remember:

Anyway, this has been a mostly unfunny rant, and I promise not to revisit the subject again unless I have something amusing to say about it. I was mostly excited that “Tales of Ribaldry” was actually available online, and had to express my displeasure about the melons. Melons! Seriously. Melons.

Gil Thorp, 12/8/08

Wait … what? Is this a new Gil Thorp storyline, all of the sudden? I’m sure Ashley Aiello and her box of NUT BOY (“It’s Nutty!” is what I hope that says on that box) will be very interesting and all, but usually at the end of football season we at least get some sort of acknowledgement of the team’s annual failure to win a championship of any sort. I won’t honestly miss Gil rubbing the back of his massive, square head ruefully while attempting to cast the blame on someone else, I suppose, but I do demand narrative satisfaction on the conclusion of the Marty Moon gets fired and replaced by punk kids arc. That mysterious, shadowy figure in the first panel had better be Marty, despondant and prepared to buy every bottle of anything even vaguely intoxicating that the 24-7 SwiftiMart stocks, including NyQuil and lighter fluid.

Dick Tracy, 12/8/08

Whenever Dick Tracy says “Time to pick up the pieces,” the “pieces” in question are the mutilated body parts of his enemies, obviously.

Apartment 3-G, 12/8/08

Margo literally does not know what Detective Collins is talking about, because the only bit of drug terminology known to her or any of her acquaintances is “dope.”

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Mary Worth, 12/4/08

I realize that I have ignored a very exciting last several days in Mary Worth. Lynn had a picture of … a boy in her pocket! And then Mary saw it! And Lynn freaked out! And she fainted! (But she’ll be fine.) But there’s something even more troubling than the stress-related faint! And that more troubling thing is … IS …

(The fact that all this constitutes a very exciting last several days in Mary Worth tells you pretty much all you need to know about Mary Worth.)

Anyway, bets are now being taken as to what the “troubling” unexplainable medical condition will be. Potential answers: pregnancy, venereal disease, insanity, Electra complex, droopy-ponytail-itis. While we’re waiting, I dare you to make sense of the arrangement of grey and off-green on the wall behind Mary and Evil Figure Skating Father-Coach, either in the individual panels or taking the strip as some kind of theoretical whole.

Herb and Jamaal, 12/4/08

If my years of reading Herb and Jamaal have taught me anything, it’s that this potentially interesting story about Herb’s crime-terrorized barber will be dropped after today, and that his discomfiting anxiety has been trotted out entirely in the service of a cheap gag about shaking hands. Tune in next week for similar yucks when Jamaal’s doctor turns out to have a devastating alcohol problem!

Crankshaft, 12/4/08

This just in: everyone in Crankshaft, without exception, is terrible. “Really, son, this paycheck just goes to show that getting in on the ground floor somewhere to pursue your dreams is for suckers and poor people. Why not work in a high-paying job you hate so you can look as beaten down and miserable as we do at all times?”

I am kind of amused by the fact that the sepia-toned, old-timey album photo panel, once reserved for storylines like Crankshaft’s days in the minors in the late ’40s, has now just become Crankshaft shorthand for “events that happened previously” — even when, in this case, the events occurred well into the era of digital color photography.

Mark Trail, 12/4/08

“I wish I had let Andy come with me!” “I’m beginning to worry about our friend too, Andy!” Hey, guys, Andy can’t always be there paw-holding you as you make your way through life, OK? You’re going to learn how to do things on your own. Meanwhile, it’s obvious that the real hero of this storyline will be Sneaky, clawing at the face of anyone, or possibly everyone, within reach once the melee starts.

Family Circus, 12/4/08

Getting a new encyclopedia for Billy is obviously unthinkable, since it would be full of all that devilish “new learning.” Even the 1955 World Book was chock full of sin, which is why Mommy had to consolidate the clean parts into this single tattered volume.

Apartment 3-G, 12/4/08

At last, Margo’s going to live out her ultimate fantasy — a three-way with two dudes who look exactly alike! Oh, wait, I just described every M-F-M three-way in the Apartment 3-G universe.