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Hi and Lois, 8/6/09

Hmm, something has gone very, very wrong in the relationship between Trixie and sunbeam. It used to be that she’d welcome sunbeam through the windows whenever it wanted to come in, and missed it when it was gone. But now she’s actively trying to flee from it, huddling behind a tree in hopes of remaining undetected. Has she realized that sunbeam is a little too persistent? That hanging up heavy curtains is too high price to pay for privacy? Is Chris Hansen going to show up with a camera crew at any moment? “You knew this innocent young girl wanted you to stop coming in through the window, and yet you persisted! Why? Why? Your silence convicts you!”

Crankshaft and B.C., 8/6/09

Well, since I made everyone who may have been avoiding it look at a snake attacking a little dog, I feel obligated to inform you that, against all odds, a pup who can’t weigh more than about ten pounds is going to survive a dose of snake venom that would have felled a full-grown man who has been kept alive for decades longer than his natural lifespan by an unkillable core of pure spite. Don’t take this as evidence that the Winkerverse will cease to be a abattoir of soul-slaughter, though; it’s just that in drama you can get away with doing awful things to people that you could never do to animals, as B.C. seems to have figured out, albeit belatedly.

Mark Trail, 8/6/09

“God, these gangsters have such a terrible grip on me … it’s like they’ve got my nuts locked between their teeth! Sorry for the weird metaphor, sis, but it just popped into my head for some reason.”

Beetle Bailey, 8/6/09

Beetle’s right to be freaked out. Everyone knows it only starts being gay when you can see the other dude’s face.

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Family Circus, 6/30/09

Let’s ignore for the moment the fact that Billy is too young to have a job and, assuming the real-life and Family Circus calendars line up, is on summer vacation, and therefore has every right in the world to lounge about lazily. Ignore too the fact that “nothing” is surely preferable to other things Billy could be doing — rotting his mind with TV, bullying his siblings, breaking things, or, God forbid, making adorable malapropisms. I think we should actually be impressed by Billy’s total commitment to doing nothing. He’s so intent on non-action that he’s gone into a room with no furniture and unadorned walls, and is just leaning there, his hands tucked behind him that so he doesn’t do something even accidentally. If he does any less, he’ll transcend to a higher plane of existence, which all of us should be hoping for, as then we won’t have to deal with him.

Gasoline Alley, 6/30/09

The current Gasoline Alley plot is stupid and irritating, so I’ll only waste four words on it — “improvised fake clergyman grift” — but today’s strip is noteworthy for what may be the most gratuitous drawing of a young lady’s rear end in short shorts that the comics page has ever seen. If this and this are any indication, beneath the family-friendly surface of this ancient legacy strip is a cauldron of randiness on the verge of boiling over.

Marvin, 6/30/09

Can Marvin not go 48 hours without updating us on the titular hell-infant’s habit of letting loose the contents of his bowels and/or bladder? Anyway, here’s today’s strip, in which Marvin urinates all over his mother, again. If there’s any integrity to this strip’s use of dialogue balloons, Jenny can’t hear her son’s little mental quip, so that look of horror must be a result of the piss she feels pooling on her back.

B.C., 6/30/09

I’m not sure why, but the revelation that the turtle half of B.C.’s turtle-bird pairing is named “John” is even more disconcerting to me than the discovery that the bird is named “Dookey.”

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B.C., 6/3/09

Part of being a smug jerk on the Internet who makes fun of other people’s life work is never having to say you’re sorry, but I do feel like I need to mildly backtrack on the issue of B.C. I still believe quite firmly in the principle that comic strips should die or retire with their creators; but we won’t be living in such a perfect world any time soon, and I do have to say that over the last two years the new post-Johnny Hart B.C. has gone from terrible to kind of amusing, in a new and goofy way. I admit to being actively tickled by today’s installment, not so much because of the “turtle sexual harassment and retaliatory violence” angle, but because of it implies that turtle sex involves a dude turtle slipping out of his own shell and into the lady turtle’s shell. Which is anatomically laughable, of course, but can you visualize how turtles do it? A recent visit to the awesome Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum did acquaint me with this legitimate educational display, but I still have questions. (Warning: that second link may not be safe for work, if your workplace is uptight about turtle sex.)

Mary Worth, 6/3/09

Well, it looks like Adrian is safely paired off with the son of the one man her father ever loved, which should make for a blissfully perfect life partnership marred only by occasional awkwardly overenthusiastic Christmas visits. Now we’re moving to the next plot, which begins as a young woman phones Mary to tell her that she’s “taking a break” from her marriage. Rather than use the opportunity to get drunk a lot and bed innumerable younger men, this lunatic has decided to spend her newly single days living with Mary Worth, whom she considers to be “like a mother.” Based on the past several years of reading this strip, Mary is the kind of mother who never calls or even mentions this poor girl, but that doesn’t stop her from reacting to the prospect of a hapless meddlee coming to live her with the kind of blissed-out facial expression normally only possible with the aid of powerful, mood-altering narcotics.

As the leaves around our squirrelly friend in panel one indicate, beautiful late spring has come to Santa Royale, which means that the new victim’s introduction to Charterstone can take one form and one form only: pool party. Seriously, I don’t think we’ve seen a wonderful Santa Royale pool party since, what, Mary’s terribly misguided attempt to set up Dr. Drew and Vera? FAR TOO LONG. No pool party, no peace!

Cathy, 6/3/09

36 months after the innovator (They’ll Do It Every Time, of blessed memory) and 33 months after the laggard (Curtis), Cathy finally catches on to the one fail-safe comedy gold comics trope: jeans that are brand new, but look all beat up! Ha ha! Mercy!

Apartment 3-G, 6/3/09

“You know, like you, who bullies and ignores me by turns! Or what’s-her-name, the blonde, who left the state months ago and I haven’t talked to since! And … uh … you know, maybe I should rethink this.”