Post Content

Shoe, 12/17/08

Hey, here’s something fun I like to do when I’m having coffee with an old friend: in the middle of a conversation, I deliberately structure my sentences so that they’re ambiguous and my interlocutor has to ask for clarification! It’s great way to “mix it up a bit”!

Ha ha, just kidding, obviously, if anyone in real life did this you would think that they were unbearably pretentious, or perhaps suffering from some kind of head injury. “But Josh,” you’re probably thinking, “aren’t these birds? Shouldn’t we be impressed that they’re using recognizable English at all? Cut them some slack!” I suppose you’d be right if we saw these birds engaged in more typical bird-oriented activities — flying, chirping, preening, hanging out on tree branches and telephone wires, crapping on cars, vomiting half-digested insect parts down the throats of their offspring, etc. But these birds have developed any number of advanced behaviors, including coffee-drinking, cup-using, clothes-layering, and crappy-art-from-Pier-One-hanging, so I frankly expect more from them in terms of pronoun use.

Beetle Bailey, 12/17/08

If the U.S. military’s mandatory retirement age applies to Camp Swampy, then General Halftrack was born no earlier than 1944, so even as a young man he must have been quite the nostalgist. Still, we shouldn’t question the wizenedness of someone who either appears to have been utterly defeated by this newfangled “CD player” thingamabob, or is simply too feeble to get up and walk six feet to put the disc in. (The possibility that this is all an elaborate ruse to get Miss Buxley to bend over in front of him does come to mind as well.)

Spider-Man, 12/17/08

Wait, don’t count on … him … can’t saving Jameson? Man, the tension and drama in this strip are entirely syntactic.

Marmaduke, 12/17/08

Marmaduke was in that window being groomed long enough for his many enemies to get wind of his location and arrange this ambush.

Post Content

Dick Tracy, 12/14/08

Dick Tracy has moved on from the “lives shattered and corpses mangled” section of the storyline to the “valuable lessons learned” portion. Liz’s ham-handed soliloquy — “Yes, Tracy, robots have a place in police work” — sounds like the sort of self-congratulatory statement you’d hear when someone in an after-school special overcomes terrible prejudice, though in this case that prejudice is against improbable, l33t-speaking robots that despite their crime-fighting value will have only occasional appearances in future installments of this strip.

Meanwhile, in typical Dick Tracy mangled-time fashion, the final panel of the last three strips has consisted of Diet Smith offering then refusing to help Dick’s wife over the phone. This is unfortunate, because it has forced us to repeatedly look at the inventor’s grotesque baby-like face.

Beetle Bailey, 12/13/08

Say, what’s more embarrassing than having only three comics acknowledge your 90th anniversary? Having a fourth add its own feeble contribution nearly three weeks after the fact, of course! That 19-day gap is, to the best of my knowledge, shorter than the lead time for strip publication, so it’s not like Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Enterprises LLC saw those tribute strips on November 24 and suddenly lurched into action, but I can’t offer an alternative explanation for this delayed tribute. Perhaps there’s some dispute as to the actual launch date of the strip back in the mists of time, and we’ll be seeing tributes to Gasoline Alley’s continued zombie existence dribbling out over the comics pages for weeks to come.

Post Content

Cleats, Ziggy, and Mary Worth, 12/11/08

Cleats has spent the last few weeks introducing Svanhildur, aka “Swan Battle,” aka “the Gunk of Cleats.” I would like to believe that I don’t actually follow Cleats closely enough to notice when new characters are introduced, but I’m afraid that idea has now been conclusively disproven. Anyway, Edith mocks the idea that swan battles are part of everyday experience; however, my understanding is that swans are merely fancy elitist geese, and geese are — I know this from living for several years near Lake Merritt in Oakland, which was lousy with them — nasty, aggressive birds willing to do battle on the innocent and the helpless with little or no provocation. Take Lynn and her totally innocent, never-got-a-fingerbang-from-him-no-sir friend Greg, feeding these ungrateful parasites in today’s flashback frame. Lynn’s dad was mad at Greg for taking Lynn away from her skating practice; Greg’s parents, on the other hand, were mad at Lynn for fleeing the scene in terror while the savage swans pecked their poor son to death.

The swan in Ziggy, meanwhile, only does battle with the dignity of birds everywhere. Its obscenely lolling tongue is particularly unsettling. Ziggy is right to manifest his patented Undereye Bags Of Horror in response.

Gil Thorp, 12/11/08

I really do keep waiting for this to turn out to be a continuation of the wacky tale of Jeff “Sacko” “6-9” “That kid who lied about his heart condition” Ponczak and Matt the Hat and Marty Moon and … you know, football season, this ostensibly being a comic about sports and all, but I’m coming around to the idea that maybe we’re firmly planted in a brave new plot of NUT BOY and armed robbery and now, two snobby prep school refugees washing up on Milford’s poverty-blighted shores! Our snooty transfer twins will be just like 90210′s Brandon and Brenda, except oppositely socially mobile, and one of them is named “Bryce” instead of “Brandon”, and they’ll probably be roped into participating in some kind of athletic activity. Perhaps Bryce will complain loudly about Milford’s lack of a polo team or yachting squad.

Beetle Bailey, 12/11/08

Yeah, lady, I’m sure this seems like a good idea now, but just wait until the beatings start.