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Beetle Bailey, 3/1/10

I swear I’m not making an effort to find the secret dark heart of Beetle Bailey lately; but doesn’t it just seem like the strip has just been getting kind of grim? Today’s installment appears to have been first written as an almost unspeakably bleak scenario: Beetle being dragged off by scowling MPs for treason or some terrible breach of the military law, to Fort Leavenworth or Gitmo or just a summary execution by firing squad. He weakly proclaims that it was all a mistake, he didn’t do anything, but the fact that he’s, against the grain of his usual character, put on a vaguely presentable uniform indicates that he knew the gig was up and decided to go out with a modicum of dignity. Sarge, meanwhile, can only look on in heartbroken shock. “Beetle!” he cries. “What have you done?! For the love of God, what have you done?!”

Presumably the editor for this strip, after putting his or her head down on the desk and crying quietly for a bit, sent it back to Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Enterprises LLC with a scrawled note to “wacky it up a little bit, with, I dunno, some Keystone Cops or 19th century U.S. Cavalry officers or some shit like that.” Then back to the weeping.

Gil Thorp, 3/1/10

Dang, Gil Thorp, I know you’re written by jocks for jocks, but can you tone it down a little bit with the anti-nerd hate speech? You know, Coach Kaz, maybe Mr. Kessler doesn’t have the “jailbait problems” you’ve encountered because he’s an urbane, witty gentleman who exudes class and intelligence, and therefore doesn’t attract the high school girls the way your mullet does.

Mary Worth, 3/1/10

“…and he took the bottom two-thirds of my pants with him! My God, my pale, tender leg-flesh … gleaming in the bright light of day … DON’T LOOK! DON’T LOOK!”

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Beetle Bailey, 2/28/10

I originally read the heading on the piece of paper tacked to the bulletin board in panel three as “Worst List”, and believed that it was meant to be an accounting of the most incompetent, ineffective, and generally bad soldiers on the base, or perhaps just the worst humans on earth. This nicely dovetails with my interpretation of the ensuing panels, in which Beetle, struck by shame, climbs atop a building intending to jump off and end it all, and convinces many of his fellow soldiers to join him. Unfortunately, since the structure only appears to be 12 feet high or so, this too will probably end in failure, with the attempted mass suicide only resulting in a few broken ankles.

Judge Parker, 2/28/10

Hey, remember how there was this entire other Judge Parker plot going on, which, despite its many crimes against legal ethics, was actually somewhat more interesting than the Rocky-Godiva marital problems storyline? Well, it, uh, got resolved, completely offstage, apparently! Thank goodness this one of Barreto’s last few Sunday strips (or perhaps one of his son’s?), so that these boring people standing around some dull office explaining the resolution confusingly are at least halfway attractive to look at.

Marvin, 2/28/10

“Well, it looks like we’ll have to turn to cannibalism! We’ll start with Marvin, naturally. I’ll fire up the grill.”

“But honey, we have plenty of food in the ho—”

“I SAID I’LL FIRE UP THE GRILL!”

Panel from Blondie, 2/28/10

It’s only a dream sequence, but this panel offers further unsettling detail on the always grim relationship between Dagwood and his boss. We’re no doubt meant to chortle at Dagwood’s comically twisted leg, but I can’t stop looking at Dithers’s heel planted squarely on the poor man’s throat.

Panel from Mary Worth, 2/28/10

At last, the nature of Wilbur and Kurt’s forest frolic becomes clear: A laughing Wilbur is giving his smiling not-son a bit of a head start before he starts hunting him for sport. Truly, emotionally needy con artists are the most dangerous game.

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Mary Worth, 2/18/10

Oh my goodness, SO MANY DRAMAS AND SADNESSES in today’s Mary Worth! Dawn abruptly puts a stop to her intimate moment with Wilbur as she notices Kurt lurking in the other room, puking into his hand. Then she dishes some dirt about her father’s inability to sustain a relationship. “Yeah, after mom woke up one day and said ‘Holy Christ, I’m married to Wilbur Weston?’ I lived in Connecticut with her … until I got caught robbing a liquor store, and the judge told me I had to choose between juvie and moving to California to live with my dad. When I think about the fact that I’d be a free woman back on the streets again if I’d made that first choice, whereas now I’m still living here … ugh, it gives me chills. Anyway, you didn’t miss much, trust me.” Meanwhile, Wilbur, left to his own devices, has immediately wandered back to the computer, desperately trolling Facebook for more long-lost offspring who will at least briefly pretend to love him.

Dick Tracy, 2/18/10

A wild-eyed maniac spouting nonsense? A group of lanky shadow-figures, waving their arms about in panic? An extreme close-up on the stylized face of a woman keening a single piercing note of pure terror? The best Dick Tracy in many a moon? Yes, yes, yes, and yes!

Beetle Bailey, 2/18/10

It appears that Killer’s constant tree-fucking ways aren’t just expressions of his perverted nature; he’s actually part of a top-secret military experiment to breed intelligent and deadly tree-human hybrids. You know who’s going to freak out and emit a single panicked ball of sweat when he sees one of those hairy prehensile root-tentacles slithering into his cave? Osama bin Laden, that’s who!

Family Circus, 2/18/10

Mommy and daddy better not hear that traitor talk, Dolly, or someone’s going to learn that one ought not to let one’s aesthetics affect one’s patriotic allegiances … in Gitmo.

Jumble, 2/18/10

As it features a desperate looking couple sitting around a kitchen that’s almost completely empty except for a pile of bills, I’m pretty sure this is most depressing Jumble ever. I keep staring at the answer blanks, and all I can think of to put there is “HAVE ANY MONEY.”