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Blondie, 10/9/24

I have to admit that, not being an artist myself, I’m sometimes a little hesitant to criticize comics art, especially when it comes to making sweeping statements about how exactly that art was produced when I realize I don’t have that much insider knowledge. I am, however, reasonably sure that, to create two panels of an open book just kind of sitting on the couch and resting (?) on a person’s thigh, the normal book-reading configuration we all know and love, one or more pieces of clip art may have been involved. It’s too bad, too, because it really distracts from a killer joke where a dad asks his daughter what she’s reading and she tells him but then it turns out she’s lied about it, I guess, and has actually tucked a phone inside her book, the normal phone-using configuration we all know and love.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 10/9/24

I like Lukey and Snuff’s shock and horror in the second panel and refusal to play along with the Sheriff’s jape in the third. Hootin’ Holler may be a notorious haven for criminals of various types, but they draw the line at stealing horses, possibly because it seems very ambitious and who wants to put in that kind of effort.

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/20/24

Oh no! In this rustic retelling of Jack and the Beanstalk, Jughaid traded Ol’ Bessie for a handful of beans. The beanstalks grew to the sky in the traditional manner, but there were no gold coins, eggs, or magic harps on offer up there. Deprived of essential amino acids from Bessie’s milk, the Smifs will now die, and Barney Google will at last reclaim his strip.

Hi and Lois, 9/20/24

Chip Flagston, like Alexander Bumstead, is an anti-Dustin, attracting pretty girls without the slightest effort. But in a strip with 1950’s-era family structure, work environment, social mores, and frankly jokes, how does anything here really qualify as “retro”?

Beetle Bailey, 9/20/24

In an vulnerable moment, Sgt. Orville Snorkle is at last ready to let the sun shine into the black pit of shame and anguish that drove him to a half century of verbal abuse, savage beatings, and arbitrary punishment of his subordinate. Beetle is having none of it: this may not be the life he chose, but it’s the one he’s got and he’s not going to change it now. “Things are just fine, Sarge, do you hear me? Fine!

Judge Parker, 9/20/24

Ronnie, you’re the sensible, grounded one, remember? And yet here you are confiding in Neddy Spencer about a self-centered emotionally needy person who is not Neddy Spencer? Sure, you can always talk to her, but God help you trying to get her to listen.

Marvin, 9/20/24

Marvin‘s Jeff Miller gamely steps into Ed Crankshaft’s role now that Ed’s strip is off fighting 1950’s-era censorship or something. Got to admire how deftly he blends Crankshaft‘s negligent arson into Marvin‘s central theme, filth.

Just a reminder that there’s no Comment of the Week on my watch, so 2+2=7’s comment will ride up there for another week or until the math checks out, whichever comes first.

—Uncle Lumpy

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Arctic Circle, 9/18/24

This strip has been fixated on environmental catastrophe so long it’s jarring to see it suddenly switch gears. Or has it? After all, Oscar, Ed, and Gordo are still standing on their metaphorical corner of the Internet wearing sandwich boards announcing “The End Is Near.” Climate, AI: Tomato, Tomahto. It’s like a Choose Your Own Adventure where every path leads to extinction.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/18/24

Hey, Parson, them thar antydepressicant pharmysooticals shore will make the news go down easier!

Mark Trail, 9/18/24

Mark is searching for “Vampire in Malibu” director Wesley Wingit, reputedly holed up in this house full of lions. Very talented lions. They can open a chest freezer; unwrap, thaw, and microwave their meals; and presumably use the litter box, most likely a repurposed swimming pool. If Wesley doesn’t show up, they can probably also direct his next movie, produced by MGM of course.

Judge Parker, 9/18/24

Pity poor Ronnie. To escape her wretched marriage to self-absorbed twit Kat who looks exactly like Neddy, she submits to a doomed roadtrip with self-absorbed twit Neddy who looks exactly like Neddy because she is actually Neddy. In her troubled dreams, Ronnie careers through a mirrored funhouse with infinite Neddies screeching tornadoes of empty yak at her from every side, only to awake soaked in sweat to find yet another goddamn Neddy shaking her shoulder saying, “Hey, I’ve got an idea ….”

Beetle Bailey, 9/18/24

Pity Amos Halftrack. This is as intimate as he will ever be with a woman; this moment will define his life.

—Uncle Lumpy