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B.C., 12/15/09

Wow, it took less than three years after the death of the devout Johnny Hart for B.C. to devolve into red-hot woman-on-wolf action. Impressive!

Mark Trail, 12/15/09

OH MY GOD MARK IS GOING TO BE LOCKED UP BY A FAT, CORRUPT, STOGIE-CHEWING SHERIFF! PLEASURE OVERLOAD! PLEASURE OVERLOAD!

Beetle Bailey, 12/15/09

Boy, Beetle sure gets around, doesn’t he? I’d be more convinced by his “Now I have to check for hidden cards in your underwear” gambit as just being sensible pre-gambling precautions if there were anyone in the room other than him and Cosmo.

Mary Worth, 12/15/09

Don’t be too hasty, Wilbur! If you end up having lunch with the young man, he might see you try to cram an entire sandwich down your throat without chewing and decide that maybe you aren’t related to each other after all.

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Apartment 3-G, 11/5/09

Oh, man, apparently Tommie really isn’t familiar with I Dressed In The Dark, or with the reality TV genre in general, or with the sort of thing that normal humans enjoy as entertainment. If she were, she’d know that she should be jerking about spasmodically for the camera here, clowning it up for the people at home; if she must express negative feelings, they should be big negative feelings, with ostentatious, theatrical bawling. Instead, she’s just looking directly into the camera, and, with a flat expression and eerily affectless voice, describing the terrible emotional desert through which a cruel God has cursed her to wander, like the Israelites, but not as well dressed. I’m assuming that the cameraman is only managing to hold that microphone up through sheer professionalism, and will soon be quietly weeping. Tommie should very much not be allowed on television.

Mary Worth, 11/5/09

Ha ha, look, Adrian is already trying to squirm out of the drunken promises she made to Scott when she thought he was in a coma and couldn’t hear her. Now they’re getting married when he’s “better.” “Adrian, I’m back on my feet and back on the job, and the doctor says that these scars from the bullet wounds are pretty much permanent, so…” “Scott, please! You know I can’t marry a man with any sort of disfigurement! You’ll make sure they heal, if you really love me.”

Gil Thorp, 11/5/09

Congrats to Gil Thorp for depicting what most scientists agree to be the douchiest high-five possible there in panel two. Meanwhile, the parallelism of the two cafeteria scenes leaves one to contemplate the question: where’s a worse place to eat lunch, high school or prison? Your fellow inmates are more likely to shiv you, but at least they won’t stoop to lying about going to your volleyball game.

Dennis the Menace, 11/5/09

I’m sorry, Dennis, this is a game attempt to work within this strip’s restricted ambit of bad behavior, but good manners are never menacing.

B.C., 11/5/09

Ha ha, you see, because one of them wants to kill her, and one of them wants to have sex with her! Women, am I right? They’re like prey animals!

Beetle Bailey, 11/5/09

Honest to God, anyone who opens a gay bar named “McGooey’s” on the outskirts of a US Army base will get free advertising on this site for a year.

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B.C., 9/1/09

Since Johnny Hart’s death, B.C. has spent significantly less time dwelling on evangelical Christianity, and, in a perhaps not unrelated development, more time dwelling on infidelity and the suggestions of infidelity. Today’s strip is kind of interesting in a narrative-theory sense in that it features the ant family characters — “features” in a very loose sense, as none of them are actually portrayed. We see only word balloons emerging from exterior of their anthill home, itself so stylized as to be unrecognizable outside the context of the strip; I’d have to assume that, unless you were a regular B.C. reader, the whole thing would be completely incomprehensible. Still, there is a certain perhaps accidental bit of visual interest, particularly in the silent penultimate panel, in which the absence of dialogue forces you to contemplate the rather phallic nature of this anthill of lies, just at the moment when the she-ant is coming to grips with her spouse’s inability or unwillingness to control the wandering of his own sexual organs.

Momma, 9/1/09

As ever, Momma is significantly less subtle. Momma wants to make sure that her sister knows that Francis is a man-whore, not a he-prostitute.

Jumble, 9/1/09

Meanwhile, these poor Jumble folks suffer from a (possibly drug-induced) paranoia so powerful that it’s negatively affecting their sex life. The hubby plans to keep wearing his slippers throughout their carefully planned sex act, to prevent prying eyes from seeing his toes.