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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 6/6/11

A recent trip to the mall left me idly contemplating the ways of modern capitalism. Did you know, young whippersnappers, that the corridors of indoor shopping malls used to stretch unbroken from the Foot Locker on the east to the Ann Taylor on the west, with plenty of room to walk and no kiosk in between hawking kibbutz-manufactured facial cream or calendars with cute cats on them or the same cell phones you could buy in two or more of the actual stores in the mall? You see, most shopping malls are owned by publicly traded corporations these days, and investors aren’t just satisfied with retail that makes more than it spends: it has to show an improved profit year after year, which for most older shopping malls means trying to extract more revenue from the same square footage, which in turn means that the broad indoor boulevards where old people used to power-walk are now cluttered with as many little store-shanties as management can cram in there.

In its own way, the mighty pharmaceutical industry is in the same boat. With most Americans now doped up on between two and six prescription medications at any given time, the drug companies need to cast an ever-broader net to find more customers for their wares. And if that means that pharmaceutical reps need to travel to isolated communities where you can still get burned at the stake for selling cures that aren’t root-based poultices, and then seduce lumpy-faced inbred nurses as if they were the villains of a Flannery O’Connor story, then so be it. The demands of the capital markets are remorseless.

Mark Trail, 6/6/11

“You have to return to your loved ones once every six months or so, and make a few days’ worth of awkward small talk! That’s what I do! Don’t worry, you don’t have a wife, so you won’t have to touch lips with anybody.”

Crankshaft, 6/6/11

Ha ha, it’s funny because everyone hates the bus drivers and wants them to quit! Some people are trying to make sure they quit, by threatening violence against them. That … that’s the punchline?

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Hi and Lois, 5/30/11

I admit to being tickled at how pleased Hi looks about … well, everything in this cartoon. Since nothing Thirsty is saying could possibly have generated such merriment, I’m forced to conclude that Hi has finally decided to “believe the hype” about his own name and gotten high as way to endure yet another day of crushing suburban ennui.

Baldo, 5/30/11

Tia Carmen apparently believes that pots are unhappy unless they’re being tortured, with fire.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 5/30/11

Just another night in Hootin’ Holler, where the rodent infestation is so bad that people literally can’t sleep because of the awful noise of thousands of tiny claws!

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Wizard of Id, 5/17/11

One wonders why today’s Wizard of Id, having annotated with blunt-force onomatopoeia actions in the first two panels that would have been easily parsed as drawn without explanation, then goes on in panel three to illustrate … something … with a series of mysterious radiating lines. Are these supposed to represent light — a glow from within the bathroom, along the lines of the nuclear whatsit in Kiss Me Deadly, or a more abstract representation of the gargoyle’s shocking ugliness? Do they indicate sound, perhaps the gargoyle’s inarticulate shrieking? Or, considering that the magical beast has been interrupted on the toilet, maybe they’re stink lines? They’re stink lines, aren’t they? Since that’s the grossest possible answer, I’m going to assume that’s the case.

Apartment 3-G, 5/17/11

My favorite part of this strip is not the fact that Paul caught the bouquet (although it does make one smile to imagine his bridesmaids’ dresses, just as hideous in design as the one Lu Ann has on now, only they’re the same hideous orange creamsicle color as his suit), but all the single ladies flailing wildly about in the background, a full ten yards from anywhere the bouquet could have possibly landed. It’s like they’ve all been turned off marriage forever by the horrorshow before them, but feel they need to participate in this antiquated patriarchal ritual, for appearance’s sake.

The Lockhorns, 5/17/11

Who says the Lockhorns is out of touch? It takes someone with a near anthropological understanding of the nuances of modern American life to grasp the distinction between a “dude” and a “bro.”

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 5/17/11

Gosh, it looks like the whole rest of the week is going to be dedicated to the funeral of poor cuzzin Travis. Today, the town preacher implies in front of Travis’s whole family that he’s being tortured forever, in hell!