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Slylock Fox, 4/18/11

When your cartoon is populated by anthropomorphic animals, you eventually run into awkwardness when you need to introduce some non- or semi-anthropomorphic animals, a conundrum known to philosophers as the “Goofy-Pluto Paradox.” Here, for instance, we have a a gaggle of clothed, house-dwelling animals confronting a pair of naked (albeit still bipedal, or at least upright) animals who are accused of doing animal-type things like eating tomatoes on the vine. Are the snake and raccoon meant to be understood as mere beasts? Or do they belong to some caste that is oppressed and excluded from Slylock-world society due to prejudice, despite their ability to reason? Either way, once Slylock fingers the guilty party, it looks like he’ll be subject to brutal mob justice rather than taken under the gentle wing of owl law.

B.C., 4/18/11

Speaking of sentient animals, here’s a sentient bird who chose a bad hiding place and now is going to be devoured alive! That … that’s the joke, I guess?

Mark Trail, 4/18/11

You might find the premise of this strip incredibly unrealistic, but think about it: if someone were so unable to understand human nature that they would consider Mark a good guy to approach with a “personal problem,” then he’d probably also have trouble relating even to the people closest to him.

Pluggers, 4/18/11

Yes, these hideous mutant abominations will continue to mate with one another and produce ever more freakish offspring — no matter what our elected officials in Washington say or do. I think our only hope is to call in the military.

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Mark Trail, 2/28/11

“His name is Mark Trail and he is American.” God, has any phrase ever been so perfectly calculated to make your proud to be from the U.S. — or, if you aren’t from the U.S, to make you ashamed for being a filthy foreigner who can’t vote for the same President that Mark Trail votes for? (Mark Trail casts his ballot with his fist, so that there’s never any question of “voter intent”.) My heart was so swelled with patriotism upon reading this that I almost missed the insane implication that underlies this statement, namely that Mark somehow drifted in his small boat to another country, an exotic tropical island inhabited by white people. Who are these mysterious tribeswomen? Why have they dragged Mark back to their home rather than seeking medical attention for that festering black wound on his forehead? What oppressive regime causes them to fear being discovered in even this half-assed act of kindness? Why does Mark keep an autographed photo of his wife in his wallet? Is it in case he forgets her name, or forgets which of the baffling and terrifying females in his life he’s married to?

Crock, 2/28/11

God help me, I have to say that I like almost everything about this Crock strip. I like the way the camel is drawn to some kind of realistic scale, dwarfing the bartender and all the human-sized furniture in the strip. I like his nonviolent but apparently extremely effective threat to slobber all over our speciesist barkeep. But mostly I like the dialogue-less third panel, in which the camel grins at us triumphantly, with the telltale cartoon bubbles over his head indicating that he’s already well on his way to being drunk. Kudos to you, my soused desert-dwelling friend!

B.C., 2/28/11

Today’s B.C. accidentally raises an interesting question about primitive societies: in tiny early hominid bands — there can’t be more than, what, 10 named characters in the entire B.C. universe, right? — where everyone knew each other intimately, could much of what we think of as crime ever happen?

Apartment 3-G, 2/28/11

Ha, it’s only Monday and Margo is already getting lit. There’s a number of ways this story can end — in recriminations, in violence, in oversharing — and all of them are delicious.

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B.C., 2/8/11

The reasons why the various human and animal characters of B.C. exist and each have their iron-clad associated schtick are now lost in the mists of time. One thing I’ve always found striking is that the ants always get the jokes most closely associated with the heterosexual nuclear family. This is odd because, out of all the creatures great and small who inhabit the strip, ants have by far the freakiest sex lives. Can you imagine the weird dramatic possibilities of actual ant family life, which starts when a newborn queen flies off with a host of her brothers, all of whom mate with her and then almost immediately die, and the queen spends the next several decades giving birth to her sister-children, who toil as her slaves? It would certainly be more compelling than these two talking about divorce plans or whatever.

Jumble, 2/8/11

Good lord, I’ve seen few expressions more sinister than the one on that vet’s face as he gently pets that champion pup. What are his nefarious plans for it? You might say he has a “CONNECTION TO A SINISTER UNDERGROUND DOG ORGAN TRAFFICKING RING.”

Funky Winkerbean,2/8/11

Oh, hey, it’s been weeks since someone’s life was destroyed in Funky Winkerbean! Here the strip manages to pull of a nice bit of double destruction: Summer’s dreams of basketball glory are figuratively shattered, because the inner workings of her knee are literally shattered. If only we could see the horrified faces of the crowd as they hear that sickening pop!