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Family Circus, 10/21/12

Ha ha, yes, it’s all good nonpartisan election season fun, but I’d just like to point out that, within the Kompound, the Keane Kids by no means constitute a minority group. In fact, they outnumber Keane adults two to one, which is why it’s all the more important to keep them placated with delicious cookies, lest they rise up in violent revolution.

It’s not surprising that PJ is Big Daddy Keane’s favorite son, though. I think his inability to talk is probably the deciding factor.

Archie, 10/21/12

The real shock here is not that Mr. Lodge is directing his manservant to do his painting for him — after all, many great artists throughout history have mainly come up with concepts and served as more of a supervisor of craftsmen who do the day-to-day work — but that he’s referring to the blue figure in the final panel has having any “flesh tone.” Mr. Lodge’s radical anti-racist show, “Whose Flesh?”, will be premiering in a hip art space in a disused warehouse on the seedy edge of downtown Riverdale next week.

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Archie, 10/12/12

Let’s forget for the moment Reggie’s absurd claim that his laptop has petabytes of storage, and the fact that he and Jughead are having one of those hilarious “haha we are misunderstanding each other’s use of polysemous phrases, with hilarious results!” conversations that no humans ever have, ever, or even that Jughead might be vaguely implying that his beloved dog is a cyborg replicant. Let’s instead enjoy the glory and majesty of Reggie’s sweater, which is the ’90sest sweater that ever lit a candle at a spontaneous vigil that formed on the quad the night Kurt Cobain committed suicide and then later got a “Rachel” haircut. Admire it in all its Clinton-era glory!

Phantom, 10/12/12

Look, I’m the guy who will bawl uncontrollably in a movie whenever an adorable animal is killed or injured in the most transparently emotionally manipulative fashion you can name, but … hey Phantom, I know you’re hurting, but you’re being kind of a dick here? “HE WAS TRYING TO PROTECT BOTH OF US, OKAY? BUT MOSTLY ME, OKAY? BACK OFF, MAN, HE’S MY LOYAL WOLF-DOG!!!”

Funky Winkerbean, 10/12/12

“Yeah, my first wife sure scarred me emotionally and left me the morbid hate-sack I am today! How about your first wife? Oh, right, dropped dead. Hey, look, I have a whole pizza here, let’s punish our colons with it!”

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 10/6/12

Everyone’s face in the second panel is pretty much exactly what you’d expect from a scene in which three desperately poor people are about to eat a canned bean dinner in a dilapidated shack in an isolated rural hamlet. Where do you suppose Snuffy is? Jail, again? Do you think they’re sadder that one of their family members can’t be there, or happier because he’s a useless criminal and his absence means more beans for them?

Archie, 10/6/12

Notice that by the time Archie blows that whistle in the first panel, Moose is just standing around looking sheepish. Despite Archie’s ostensible attempts to impose some sanity on this “friendly” game of touch football, he knows better than to interrupt Moose when he’s in the midst of whatever violent whole-body fugue state resulted in the terrible injuries revealed in panel three.

Pluggers, 10/6/12

Speaking of looking sheepish, normally I find the faces of the various man-animal abominations who inhabit Pluggers to be fairly inexpressive, but both father and cub here are wearing pretty piercing looks of shame — poo-based shame.

Herb and Jamaal, 10/6/12

Are rising energy prices starting to degrade vital government services? Or is Jamaal just letting some guy’s house burn down, for fun?

Gil Thorp, 10/6/12

If you’ve ever wondered what it would like to perch on the belt of a guy who is really, really psyched about the terrible micksploitation slogan he’s come up with for a high school football team, and is also wearing a waistcoat for some reason, then today’s Gil Thorp is for you, my friend.

Beetle Bailey, 10/6/12

How is it that whoever wrote this cartoon doesn’t cry themselves to sleep every night, just like Mrs. Halftrack? This is probably the saddest thing I’ve seen in the comics in months, and I read Funky Winkerbean daily.