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Mark Trail, 9/9/18

Remember a few years back when Mark’s ranger pal discovered some miscreants growing pot on government land, which led to an adventure at the conclusion of which Mark bludgeoned one marijuana grower with a stick and set a vicious dog on another, then left them to die of exposure and warned Rusty that some of his little friends were probably drug fiends, too? Anyway, now it’s 2018 and in lots of places weed is basically legal, which probably really cheeses Mark off, and so he’s bringing out the big guns: sure marijuana is a relatively mild intoxicant whose effects carry no more health or social risk than wholly legal alcohol, but did you know that it’s a danger to these adorable furry critters???? Remember, when large-scale industrial agriculture intrudes on natural habitat, the main thing to focus on is what’s being grown on those farms. Think before you toke, hippies!

Beetle Bailey, 9/9/18

Golf is of course beloved by people of a certain age and social position in the United States, and the fact that those positions have traditionally overlapped with newspaper comics creators has been well reflected in the strips. Still, times are changing, and I guess I have to grudgingly respect that Beetle Bailey recognizes this and has chosen to make a well-reasoned case for the game in the marketplace of ideas rather than just assuming that everyone immediately sees its charms.

Marvin, 9/9/18

Marvin, meanwhile, just uses golf as an excuse for a terrible bit of wordplay that honestly could’ve run in a three-panel daily strip but has been inflicted on us on this, the Lord’s day, in what is surely a sin deserving of eternal damnation.

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Six Chix, 9/6/18

I have a perverse respect for this Six Chix, because the artist could only come up with song titles for five of the seven days, and one of the missing days was Thursday, the very day on which this strip would run, but still was like, “You know what? Fuck it. This is the joke I’m doing, I don’t really care, it’s happening.” Anyway, maybe it’s a space-saving thing, but if you really wanted to get the full week in there I’d have gone with David Bowie’s “Thursday’s Child” — a deep cut off a 1999 album, but no more obscure, than, say, a song by Lisa Loeb that isn’t “Stay (I Missed You)” — and, I don’t know, how about the extremely well-known “Sunday Bloody Sunday” by U2? Just some suggestions!

Beetle Bailey, 9/6/18

Beetle seems to have no idea what it means to have a crush on someone, or is unable to read the emotional arc of a romance in a movie written for children, or possibly both! This would explain a lot about his extremely desultory relationship with Miss Buxley.

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Mary Worth, 8/27/18

Oh hell yes y’all it’s a god-damned Charterstone pool party! This is a long and honored Mary Worth tradition, which we’ve enjoyed since the very early days of this blog, but I don’t think we’ve had a truly proper one in more than four years, and the last one led to the story of Olive and her magical psychic tummy, so I am pretty jazzed about today’s developments.

What hilarious plot awaits us? It’s possible that we’re going to learn that Mary, her hands afflicted with rheumatoid arthritis, can no longer mush canned salmon paste into a proper shape before sticking it in the oven, downgrading her usual salmon squares to varying and irregular “salmon snacks.” But the smart money is on this natty old man and his adorable dog. Remember the time when Mary found an injured dog and brought it back home to Charterstone and was glad to discover the condo rules allowed dogs because otherwise she’d have to lay waste to all who opposed her? Anyway, the point is, this dog is more than welcome to hang out by the Charterstone pool and rub its butthole directly on the glass tables in the common area.

Six Chix, 8/27/18

As someone who has a phobia of bees and needles (I mean, what’s a bee but a weird yellow fly with a needle on it’s butt, really) you’d think I’d find this strip terrible triggering, but I actually kind of like it! I mean, I assume its purpose is to bring on vertiginous nightmares, right? I particularly enjoy the lady in panel two going strabismic with terror.

Beetle Bailey, 8/27/18

I love how everyone in the car looks genuinely horrified by the prospect of Sarge’s violent, volcanic anger. Sure, Beetle is regularly pounded to goo and seems to bounce back easily enough, but will the same logic apply to his fellow soldiers? Or will they be left thoroughly dead, a misshapen mass of broken bones and pulverized organs? Sarge’s court-martial, where he breaks down crying and sobs “I thought … I thought they’d just go back to normal. Beetle goes back to normal!” will be of little consolation to their grieving families.