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Slylock Fox, 4/16/07

We all know that Slylock and Max use their status in the community as well-known vigilantes to spy on consensual B&D play. I suspect that this little puzzle has been staged to further their sex lives as well. It’s the reason why the stubbly dog/bear/whatever thing looks so mad despite the fact that it’s the toad that’s ostensibly guilty. Clearly our dynamic duo of ratiocination have slipped this pair of lowlifes a tenner to act the part of the villains in this little sham mystery; the dog/bear thing is realizing that while his share of the payoff won’t last more than the five minutes it takes him to polish off two shots of whisky, the mouse and the fox just earned themselves several nights of sweet mystery-solving lovin’. The toad, being an amphibian, doesn’t understand the mating habits of mammals, and just stares on dumbly.

Apartment 3-G, 4/16/07

OH SNAP MARGO YOU JUST GOT CALLED A BUN-HEADED HO!

Since Katy’s mom is “Ms. Mills,” she’s clearly Eric’s sister-in-law rather than his actual sister, and so therefore fair game for bitter hatred from our gal Magee. In the real world, of course, it would be possible that she had just kept her maiden name, but in the comics pages nobody does that for fear of unleashing thousands of angry letters from people ranting about “feminazis.” They’re going to get a few of those anyway just for using the dreaded “Ms.”

Gil Thorp, 4/16/07

“Lock your eyes on one hole, get set, and swing. And keep doing it” is of course an unspeakably filthy phrase, but in a strip that frequently features dialogue like “Liz Ritter all but forces Stormy Hicks to go to The Bucket,” it’s not really all that remarkable. What’s more disturbing to me is the fact that that the appointment of Lisa Wyche’s wannabe jock mom as assistant girls hoops coach is not an isolated incident: Apparently Milford High is going to make a habit of allowing bored, isolated community members to give rambling instructions on athletic techniques to the school’s students. This could cause trouble. I’m sure in the movies we’d all enjoy the kindly old man who offers his years of experience to coach the team of misfits to a championship season, but in this age of insane paranoia, once the PTA gets wind that some bald dude is urging the town’s youth to “lock your eyes on one hole” and “keep doing it,” they’d ride him out of town on a rail.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 4/16/07

Never mind Walt Warbler’s blatant resume-padding; isn’t it kind of odd that Lula Patoot is doing touring-company theater in the sticks just days after she inked that $15 million move deal?

What I’m most intrigued by here, of course, is the play that Lula and Walt will be singing in, Les Misebarf. I’m assuming that, following in the wake of Urinetown’s success, it’s a re-imagining of Victor Hugo’s classic novel of political upheaval in France with the characters expressing their deep-felt emotions by vomiting on one another. Patrons with seats in the first few rows are warned that they will get wet. What I want to know: is it pronounced “Miz-barf,” “Miz-ay-barf,” or “Mies-barf”?

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Apartment 3-G, 4/14/07

Many commentors and I are now all pretty much obsessed with comics characters birth order. I think it’s actually been established that Margo is an only child, and her rampant narcissism only serves as confirmation. (Similarly, Lu Ann the easily influenced eternal eight-year-old is clearly a youngest child, and introverted, conflict-averse Tommie a middle.) Margo probably doesn’t have much of a handle on sibling dynamics as a result, so let me offer her a warning: Eric’s sister is someone you want to get on your side, not someone you should be sizing up to figure out the best time to punch her in the throat, which is what you seem to be doing in the third panel.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/14/07

June’s look of despair in the third panel tells us that she knows exactly how little Dr. Morgan can be counted on to help anyone do anything. She’s dreading telling this chauffeur-cum-corporate intriguer that Rex is likely to be distracted on the way to the airport by some debonaire gentleman with greying temples and an avuncular manner. Or something shiny.

Dick Tracy, 4/14/07

Say what you will about Dick Tracy, but you have to admit that doesn’t shy away from action sequences that are (a) hyperviolent and (b) as demented as everything else in the strip, as this strip in which Dick engages in some kind of karate fight with a catsuited woman with the face of a playing card illustrates. Also, it has some of the best sound effects in the business. Surely SQLUD will go down in the history of great onomatopoeia with QWINK and QLUNQ.

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Family Circus, 4/13/07

As I noted yesterday, I’m an only child and don’t understand siblings and their ways. Those of you who grew up in big families: did you ever have little get-togethers like this to discuss your feelings about family dynamics when you were under the age of ten? I like how happy Jeffy seems to be to share is feelings of total inadequacies with the rest of the brood, and the palpable shock and disgust on the faces of Billy, Dolly, and even PJ. I’m guessing that immediately after that bit of dialogue, the punching began.

Mary Worth, 4/13/07

When I tell people I like Mary Worth, they often say things like “Why?” or “Good God, why?” or “Why would anyone read that boring, boring old comic strip?” Days like today prove that “boring” is a word that should never be used in regards to this feature. This is a finely detailed depiction of psychological brinksmanship! Thrill as Mary completely bypasses the normal polite rules of human interaction, and forces Vera to either agree to give up her precious privacy or explicitly spurn an old lady! The fact that the strip ends in mid-sentence only adds to the excitement. Will Vera’s conclusion be “…of course I’ll have dinner with you! What should I bring?” or “…why don’t you eat with THE REST OF THE DEMONS IN HELL, YOU OLD HAG?” How will I be able to hold out until tomorrow?

Apartment 3-G, 4/13/07

I’m really, really upset that we didn’t actually get to see Katy’s birthday party — not because I’m a sicko who likes to watch the birthday parties of sixteen-year-old cancer patients, but because I have long suspected that Margo is a total incompetent whatever attention-grabbing scheme she’s attempting to use as a vehicle for meeting a rich man at any given moment. Some years ago we saw her completely screw up doing publicity for one of Blaze’s plays because she got wind of some piece of ass; I fully expected her party planning career to have gone down in flames by now as well. While the streamers, balloons, and hand-painted sign that reads HAPD BIRT don’t exactly scream “$100 an hour party planner”, who knows what sort of “awesome” activities we missed. Maybe Usher was there, or strippers, or Usher stripping.

True story: last year on my birthday my wife and I spent a relaxing day together and by mid-afternoon I was pretty pleased with how the day went. But then were driving back from the pool we belong to through a kind of ritzy neighborhood, and some kids were having a birthday party in the yard of this huge house, and they were unloading a goddamned llama out of the back of a llama truck, and my day felt a little less special. What I’m trying to say, Margo, is where’s the llama? I know it’s hard to get one into a Manhattan apartment, but what Katy wants, Katy gets.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 3/13/07

Like a magpie fixated on a shiny piece of tinfoil, I can’t get a single phrase from Hubby’s rambling diatribe out of my mind: “Earth warming.” At first I thought it was an attempt to use up slightly less word balloon real estate than the more conventional “global warming,” but if that were the case I think the thing to do would have been to lose one or more of the “etc”s. So I’m thinking it’s one of two things:

• Those who believe that global warming is a real danger are trying to rebrand it to convince the unconvinced. “Huh, I know global warming is junk science, but maybe there’s something to this ‘Earth warming’ thing.”
• People who have been denying global warming all along have finally been convinced, but feel that they can’t admit they were wrong without looking dumb, so this is their way of getting around it. “Global warming? Liberal propaganda! It’s just to distract you from the dangerous problem of ‘Earth warming’ — a danger you can only hear about here on Fox!”

Also, I first read Hubby’s initial news item as pertaining to a “bug strike” and charmingly imagined a group of ants and beetles walking in a circle carrying tiny signs that read “PLEASE DO NOT STEP ON US”.

Slylock Fox, 4/13/07

I can’t decide if the message of today’s Slylock Fox is “Cab rides with nearsighted drivers are a horrifying nightmare” or “Sticking your head out of a moving car is ill-advised, no matter how much fun your dog seems to have doing it.” But the multiple images give the whole thing a pleasing pop art quality.