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For Better Or For Worse, 10/13/06

As the Liz-Anthony storyline grinds on to its terrifying and seemingly inevitable conclusion, all of North America can only look on in horror.

I was physically unable to bring myself to comment on yesterday’s foobery, in which Liz, who up until fairly recently had an exciting and adventurous life, declared herself “unaccomplished” compared to Anthony because he had a child and owned property. While clearly parenthood and ownership of a bland suburban box is the height of human achievement in Foobonia, the sad truth is that the house was no doubt purchased largely with the money from Thérèse’s unspecified-but-implied-to-be-high-powered job, and as for the baby, well, if you’re married, for most people it actually takes more planning and effort to not have a baby than it does to have one. I suppose it’s an “accomplishment” that Anthony convinced his wife to have sex with him despite their obvious mutual dislike. Of course, now Thérèse has left both home and baby behind because she’s a totally unrealistic straw-woman character designed to make us feel sorry for Anthony totally evil, nonmaternal, career-focused bitch, leaving Liz an opportunity to get closer to her dream guy, who likes to hang out in his basement office with his caged toddler.

All this aside, though, this morning I had a brainstorm about why the Liz-Anthony pairing is so perfect. See, motherhood is a necessary component to a woman’s life, unless she decides she’d rather not be a parent is a totally evil, nonmaternal, career-focused bitch like Thérèse. If Liz weds Anthony, she’ll get to experience the soul-completing joy of being a mommy without having to have icky sex.

Apartment 3-G, 10/13/06

OK, so this wacky Lu Ann adventure, with the lights turning on and off and the odd instant falling asleep and the sepia-toned dream sequences … it’s really … weird, right? It’s not just me? It’s OK that I’m creeped out by the command in the last panel here? Who’s going to keep her safe, dammit? Who?

Six Chix, 10/13/06

You’re one to talk about addictive behavior, lady. You’re the one who appears to be sitting at a bar in the middle of your house.

Family Circus, 10/13/06

Actually, Jeffy, that’s how we know that Dolly’s sick. Very, very sick.

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Apartment 3-G, 10/10/06

Even the visible-stage-direction-happy artists at Apartment 3-G can’t figure out a way to show that Lu Ann’s lips are moving as she reads Alan’s letter, so they’ve decided to just have her read it aloud to an empty room.

Ignoring Lu Ann’s tendency towards single noble tears, I’m sort of intrigued by the sentence structure of Alan’s missive. It could be read as “I hope it’s not too late to say, ‘I love you, Alan.'” Then, when she reads that part aloud, Alan could jump out of a closet and say “Ha ha, you do love me! You admit it! Sucker!” and head out to go have sex with one of his barely-legal art groupies, laughing all the way.

Mary Worth, 10/10/06

So, due to crappy coloring, it took me a minute to figure out what’s going on here: That little soliloquy in the second panel is of course emerging from Ian, and you can see the stem pointing from the word balloon at his big fat head just above Toby’s tresses. But somehow another balloon stem seems to be emerging from the tree upon which Wilbur is resting one of his hairy mitts. The effect implies that Dr. Cameron, failing to get his accomplices to join in with him in a four-part harmony of condescension, has chosen to co-bloviate with the local flora.

Mark Trail, 10/10/06

Wow, remember when this storyline was about poachers and tiger penises and Kelly Welly’s unquenchable sexual urges? Now it’s all about the wacky adventures of Molly, the lovable bear … with an nose for trouble! You just know she’s going to wander off and, I don’t know, maul a baby or something, and then not understand the hostility towards her, and then Mark will have to bail her out of trouble and everyone will laugh and say, “Ho, ho, that’s our Molly!” And then there will be scenes from next week’s episode, with special guest star Tim Conway. I’m totally OK with this change of focus, you understand, but I’d sort of like to be informed of when Kelly gets tired of Ranger Rick and casts him aside, a broken man.

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Apartment 3-G, 10/6/06

The Case Of The Dumb Blonde In The Mysterious Dark Building has been grinding on slowly while the other A3G girls enjoy their old-man-taunting dinner party. It’s not exactly clear where it is that Lu Ann is sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong; presumably its door was opened by the mysterious set of keys Alan left for our blonde bombshell back in August, and it’s the only building in New York that isn’t in the midst of a condo conversion. Hopefully the moodily lit Lu Ann will get to the top of the stairs and discover that Alan has been living for the past few months Phantom Of The Opera style in a ruined but strangely beautiful aerie, where he’s been perfecting his art in isolation and brooding over the girl who got away. Either that, or it’ll be some kind of sex dungeon.

I don’t like to criticize when I can’t offer alternative solutions of my own, but: I’m not really sure how in the context of a single relatively small panel you’d indicate that a character’s flashlight is starting to flicker on and off, but I’m pretty sure having it emit the words “BLINK BLINK” isn’t it.

Mary Worth, 10/6/06

OH MY GOD FUNERAL FUNERAL FUNERAL! You know what happened the last time Mary went to a funeral, don’t you? Don’t you? AWESOMENESS! Even if Aldo really is dead, surely the presence of the evil meddlers who drove him to desperate self-harm will cause some sort of angry riot among his (no doubt many) friends, family members, and loved ones. Will Mary and Toby have to flee one of Santa Royale’s classiest funeral homes one step ahead of an enraged mob of Kanes and Kelrasts? Will Ian and Wilbur find their bodies strung up from the nearest lamppost the next day? Or (better yet) will this “funeral” turn out to be an intervention for inveterate meddlers, presided over by none other than the not-really-dead Aldo himself? I mean, in real life, it’s probably going to be a chance for Mary to dispense Bartlett’s-worthy bon mots about alcohol abuse, but let a guy dream for a day or two, OK?

Mark Trail, 10/6/06

Uh, yeah, but Mark is really just lulling Hoyt into a sense of complacency, and then he’s going to turn around and punch him in the jaw, right? Right? I mean, the phrase “Keep your dogs off of Lost Forest property, Hoyt” would be best delivered with Hoyt supine, cowering, and nursing a broken nose.

I have a feeling that Molly is going to have a hard time understanding the hostility towards her from the administrators of the local hospital and the county health inspectors.

Ballard Street, 10/6/06

Uh, yeah, her own mind. That’s what she’s deriving all that pleasure from. Riiiight.