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Beetle Bailey, 3/10/07

I think the Beetle Bailey installments that put the Halftracks’ soul-crushing sham of a marriage under a microscope are quickly becoming my least favorites (and yes, I’m as surprised as anyone to find that my hitherto blanket distaste towards this strip has become granular enough for me to start having “least favorites”). Anyway, this strip gets extra non-bonus points for contrasting the General’s for once seemingly genuine concern about his wife’s health with Mrs. Halftrack’s bitter “punchline” about her husband’s very serious drinking problem.

She’s one to talk, though, as she’s already holding his bottle of discount hooch before he even gives her the opening for her cutting remark. Presumably she needs to get liquored up before she can emotionally handle having “relations” with her incompetent husband, who openly holds her in contempt.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/10/07

OK, Abbey bringing down Elvis was funny, but Abbey holding the police at bay is ludicrous, and, more importantly, June’s smugness about it is just disturbing. Niki’s straight off the streets, so you know he likes to see the po-po humbled, but June ought to be putting up at least a pretense of respecting the authority of law enforcement. Rex looks fairly dubious in panel one, but as usual has decided that not doing or saying anything is the best way out of any situation.

(Many commentors have suggested that this “police officer” is a phony, part of some larger double game being played by Elvis, Eight-Ball, and their meth-dealing associates. I suppose it’s possible, but I’m not sure if Rex Morgan really has that advanced a twist built in to it, and wouldn’t a hardened criminal be even less afraid of a French Brittany than a cop?)

Crankshaft, 3/10/07

I hate revisiting this “alpha mom” storyline as much as you do, but I do think it’s worth noting that the Crankshaft’s school district uses the Alamo as its bus depot. And has painted it pink.

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Slylock Fox, 2/19/07

Man, when I’m standing at the Pearly Gates, and I sneak a look at that big book St. Peter’s got in front of him and discover that, in addition to a tabulation of all the good and bad deeds of each and every human being who has ever lived, it also includes a list of the greatest Slylock Foxes ever, I expect this one to be pretty close to the top. So many awesome things: Buford Bull’s ludicrously top-heavy construction; the dainty little towel, covering his mighty bull genitals; Max Mouse’s unseemly fascination with the toy submarine; Rachel Rabbit, covering her eyes and turning her head lest she see something naughty, but sneaking a peek anyway; the phrase “snatch the sack” — all divine.

By the way, I can think of a third bit of damning evidence against the carrot-thievin’ bovine: the tub is way too small for him to cram himself into it, water and bath toys or no. It’s probably not even his house. I do have to say that I’m charmed by a thief who, with what passes for the local law in hot pursuit, thinks, “Crap, I need a good alibi … I know! I’ll draw a bath!”

Beetle Bailey, 2/19/07

Well, since the only way you can come last is if the list is a convoluted combinations of first names and nicknames, I’d say your guess is pretty much correct.

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Beetle Bailey, 2/6/07

Those of you who read Beetle Bailey in black in white in the newspaper, as God intended us to do, were spared from the horrifying and baffling sight of an entirely blue Lt. Fuzz. I mean, forget changing races; our blond-haired junior officer seems to have changed species. The only even vaguely reasonable explanation I can come up with is that this is some kind of comics coloring sweatshop version of day-for-night filming. Some movies that don’t have the budget to properly light night scenes shoot during the day, then run the film through a blue filter to look more like nighttime. (Fans of MST3K will remember Attack Of The The Eye Creatures, a film in which this technique was implemented particularly ineptly.) Apparently someone down at King Features coloring thought that giving Lt. Fuzz a shiny white face would be all wrong for this ill-lit situation, and the only color in the limited palate available that vaguely conveyed a sense of shadowing was this weird blue.

Those of you who read Beetle Bailey in black in white in the newspaper were not distracted by this puzzle from the “punchline,” which doesn’t make a damn bit of sense no matter how much you look at it, so we online types got let off pretty easy.

Curtis, 2/6/07

Some have claimed that my Curtis geography lesson yesterday was misplaced, and that the idea of “Compton Kaheem” being from Philly is actually part of the joke. I’m still dubious, but I am sharp enough to realize that this strip is setting us up for a punchline tomorrow. Still, almost everything about it is stunningly loathsome. The elder Wilkins’ creepy mechanical laugh (not the first time it’s appeared in this strip), his little sing-songy invitation to his 11-year-old son to watch a little soft-core human degradation, said 11-year-old’s clench-fistedly eager anticipation of same with his dad sitting there behind him, the very idea of a “syrup chapter” of the venerable Girls Gone Wild franchise … I’m frankly having a hard time thinking of anything that might happen tomorrow that could redeem this, except perhaps the entire human race being wiped out by an asteroid.

Mark Trail, 2/6/07

Ah, Mark! For a man so in touch with the natural world, you sure do talk like an android. I’d love to hear Mark talk about some fishing stories. “There was this one fishing story, I used to tell it to Cherry when we were first dating. Rusty loves that story! His little face just lights up and he says, ‘Tell it again, Mark, tell it again!’ Excitable little kid. Yup, that sure is a great story. Then there’s this other fishing story I like to tell…”

The Phantom, 2/6/07

For those of you not in the know, “Bandar medicine” is the Phantom and Guran’s little code phrase for roofies. I have no idea how they think that’s going to help, unless “ill” is code for something I don’t even want to know about.

Gil Thorp, 2/6/07

Speaking of people going, having gone, or being about to go wild, those boys don’t look like they’re going anywhere near wild in panel two. There are entirely too many clothes, for one thing. And not nearly enough syrup.