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Judge Parker, 9/30/07

Oh, man, water! The sinister plot being machinated by the sinister Mr. Caesar is all about control of the world’s water sources! Sure, you may be saying “This is even more boring than I thought it would be,” but I’m hoping that Mr. Caesar has in his employ a bevy of environmental scientists who have given him an inside track on the coming total collapse of the globe’s water supply. In just a few months, the world of Judge Parker will be reduced to a Mad Max-esque desert hellscape, with roaming bands of angry refugees battling over the precious remaining water and gasoline deposits — and Caesar, with his enormous water storage facility with all its pipes and tubes and such, will be the most powerful warlord of them all. Sam will be wishing he’d sold his shares then!

Fun fact: The Wall Street Journal is one of the few major newspapers whose Website is available only for subscribers. Which means that Sophie, wealthy meganerd that she is, is paying for access. At least she’s not paying some guy in India to read it for her.

Curtis, 9/30/07

I know the joke here is supposed to be that old standby “Curtis is irritating”, and surely he gets off on some unfortunate tangents, but his idea is actually fundamentally sound, and is almost certainly being put into effect by any number of tech-savvy churches with younger congregations. Certainly Rev. Caldwell could probably get a better sense of how to attract young people to his church by asking actual young people, rather than sending memos to the deacon board, which is no doubt dominated by social-climbing middle-aged types like Mrs. Dunlap.

To be fair, Curtis’s suggestions for video entertainment need to be taken with a grain of salt.

Blondie, 9/30/07

“Wanna hear something else funny? Now that you’ve broken your neck and are either dead or permanently paralyzed, I don’t have to return any of the tools I’ve borrowed from you!”

Family Circus, 9/30/07

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Grandma is worried that Jeffy is retarded. What’s funny is that Jeffy apparently has the same concerns about Grandma.

Meanwhile, in Mary Worth, Dr. Jeff is getting into dangerous territory…

Panel from Mary Worth, 9/30/07

Don’t ask about “the bum boat special” unless you really want to know, Drew.

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You know, unlike some people, I was actually able to relax on my vacation.

Unlike Peter Parker, who is physically unable to resist the siren song of television, I was able to go eight whole days without reading any of the comics that weren’t featured on this site in my absence. So naturally I had to spend the better part of this morning reading everything I missed. Curse you, Houston Chronicle, for making it all so darn easy!

I was unable to decide on my favorite panel from the days I missed. Was it this one, where Gil Thorp openly boasts that he’ll call in his mob ties to silence journalists who dare question his insane coaching decisions?

Or this one, where Eric Mills imagines the sick thrill he’ll get from roasting Margo alive?

Silly Eric! Margo’s carapace is deceptively beautiful, but it will take more heat than an ordinary household grill can put out to damage it.

Anyway, no more living in the past! We must return to the present … where we find that things haven’t really changed much in the past week or so.

Blondie, 9/10/07

Blondie and Dagwood, for instance, are still caught in a hateful game of marital oneupsmanship that is played out via conspicuous consumption. There is, of course, only one way this can end: with the Bumstead house going up in flames in some kind of mutual potlatch gone horribly awry — both of them still inside, sadly.

Mark Trail, 9/10/07

Mark Trail has stepped away from the brink of a potentially interesting exploration of out-of-control tabloid media and out-of-control development hell-bent on getting its way to slip into a familiar groove. You can’t see it because of the dramatic shadows, but that dude in panel two has sideburns. Sideburns. Sideburns and a club. It’s fisticuffs time, people!

Marmaduke, 9/10/07

And, as ever, Marmaduke’s insatiable hunger for the flesh of human children rages unabated. It’s good to be back in the comics!

(Confidential to Tucson-area readers: Some Comics Curmudgeon fans are gathering at the Macayo’s at Ina and Oracle at 1 p.m. this coming Saturday if you’d care to join them!)

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Blondie, 8/29/07

Long-time Blondie readers have always marvelled at the uncanny resemblance between Dagwood’s neighbor/golf buddy/source of free tools Herb Woodley and mailman Mr. Beasley. The same face, the same bulging forehead, the same mustache. Could they be long-lost relatives? Was Herb actually the neighborhood mailman, assuming a new name and identity as he walked his route for inscrutable reasons of his own? Today, though, as his long-firmly-attached hat goes flying, we learn that, unlike Herb, Mr. Beasley in fact completely bald. It is a testament to the power of the comics and the long-running features within that this has completely blown my fucking mind. Cynic that I am, I can’t stop looking at his bare head.

For Better Or For Worse, 8/29/07

ha ha ha foolish girl no patterson is ever free

Mark Trail, 8/29/07

I’m beginning to suspect that Shirley the Duck has special powers, and I don’t just mean her stunning plumage, which has won her drag king competitions all over Lost Forest. No, first she somehow convinced the construction foreman to halt work on this extremely important mall, and now she’s working her sinister magic on the son of the big boss himself! As more and more people come within range of her mind-control rays, her army will grow larger and larger, until that mall finds itself transformed into a Shirleytarium, dedicated to her care, feeding, and worship. There will be bread crumbs. Many, many bread crumbs.

Slylock Fox, 8/29/07

Wow, that lion is pissed — and, really, can you blame him? Most doctors don’t even take their patients’ pulse themselves, and here some nosey freelance detective is getting Panthera Leo, M.D., to put his hard-earned medical skills to use to bust someone for stealing magazines from the waiting room. I think someone’s going to have some angry words with the managers of Medical Plaza. Presumably the only way to calm him down will be to allow him to eat Slick Smitty, whether he’s guilty or not.