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Funky Winkerbean, 4/6/10

A layperson might believe that Funky Winkerbean has already extracted the maximum amount of misery possible out of its characters and settings, but rest assured that the Pain Scientists over at Westview Industries are working hard at pushing the envelope of pure torture. It is of course pathetic that this grease-stained fast food subchain is the only place where FW characters can be happy (presumably they’re mistaking the sated albeit somewhat bloated feeling that comes from eating the pizza, combined with the absence of immediate physical pain, for “happiness”), but it’s all they’ve got. And now even that’s being taken away from them! Montoni’s will go bankrupt and all of you losers will be forced to morosely pick through dumpsters for sustenance! Ha ha ha!

One of the fascinating things about today’s strip is that it contains the structure of a joke without any even nominal humor content. It would have maybe worked if Funky (and yes, it took me a minute to work it out, but I’m pretty sure that’s Funky calling from the accountants’ office, and not some accountant placing a mafia-style phone call with no proper nouns and vague, unspecified threats) had claimed that Montoni’s was “guilty of insolvency” or something. As it is, it appears that Funky and Holly are each deploying a mismatched half of a desultory pun-couplet of the sort that marginally leavens the bleak horror of the Funkyverse, leaving them (and us) confused as well as depressed.

Crankshaft, 4/6/10

Meanwhile, over in the “fun” Funkyverse strip, suddenly single Crankshaft has decided to look for love online. The expression settling on his face in panel two as he realizes that nobody likes him is utterly priceless.

Judge Parker, 4/6/10

Speaking of priceless expressions of despair, check out Sam slowly morphing into a sad-eyed Margaret Keane painting in panel three. “He’s wearing the same color of minty green as I am … but he looks so much more attractive and carefree in it than I do! Damn you, you handsome, leonine-haired young buck!”

Hi and Lois, 4/6/10

Ha ha! It’s funny because they’re going to be sleeping in their car!

Pluggers, 4/6/10

Pluggers could die at any time, anywhere they park their lazy asses, and nobody would care much, or even notice.

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Hi everyone! Yes, I’m back, and Uncle Lumpy’s reign is over, as you can tell by this totally-posted-in-the-early-evening update to the site. As our good Uncle so aptly put it in the wee hours of yesterday morning: “Josh, amiright?” Anyway, thanks go to my illustrious pinch hitter, and HUGE thanks go to everyone who contributed in the pledge drive (though of course each and every one of you will be getting personal thank-yous in the next few days).

Part of what delays me, as ever, is my obsessive-compulsive need to read at least the high points of the strips I missed! Here’s one panel that jumped out at me, fairly aggressively:

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/27/10

“Garage painting” is of course a euphemism for oral pleasures of long standing in this strip, so what this panel is revealing is that Rex and June and planning on holding their dewy young layabout houseguests hostage, as sex slaves. Either that, or Nikki did a really, really bad job painting the garage, since that all happened, what, three weeks ago, in strip time?

Meanwhile, America’s Teen Sweethearts offered material of more philosophical interest:

Panel from Luann, 3/26/10

Here, Tiffany offers an intriguing analysis of the experience that staged drama brings to its audience; Brecht would be proud of this description of a play as both intensely real and transparently false.

But the most important thing that happened in the world of the comics last week didn’t happen in the funny pages, but in movie theaters, where the full-length Marmaduke trailer finally dropped:

That of course is Oscar nominee William H. Macy as the subject of not one but two getting-hit-in-the-nuts jokes. Perhaps this year he’ll finally take home that golden statue (in the newly created “most times hit in nuts by CGI dog” category). Just keep telling yourself “It’s only fake real.”

And now! There were also comics today! Let’s get on it!

Apartment 3-G, 3/29/10

While I usually find the art in this strip pretty blah, I actually think Ari’s stunned silence in the final panel is quite effectively executed. He’s probably supposed to be figuring out how exactly he can avoid the violent episode Bobbie’s about to perpetrate onto him, but I’d like to believe that he’s more concerned about all those scripts he wrote. “Wait, she’s not taking the pills? The beautiful, delicious pills I so thoughtfully prescribed for her? This relationship is nothing but a mountain of lies!”

Dennis the Menace, 3/29/10

When Dennis joined a new church, one whose services featured glossolalia and snake-handling, he finally found the immediate and ecstatic connection to God that he had been searching for his entire childhood. Still, the suit-clad WASP squares at his parents’ Episcopal congregation sure found it menacing.

Judge Parker, 3/29/10

Oh, this battle for Neddy’s love/purity is going to be delightful! I can’t wait to see what sort of snide comment her fashion-world boyfriend has in store for Sam’s epically minty argyle sweater.

Luann, 3/29/10

Back to the fake real! Turns out that theater prodigies Luann and Quill were only capable of creating on-stage romantic chemistry because of their mutual lust for their shared pale good looks. Now that they’ve been transformed into non-Aryans via stagecraft wizardry, they’re no longer attracted to one another, and the play will bomb.

Crankshaft, 3/29/10

I may have missed the thrill-o-coaster that was last week’s “Mary returns a blouse,” but by God I will be here for each and every delicious minute of “Crankshaft gets dumped.”

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The Comics Curmudgeon Spring 2010 Fundraiser

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Mark Trail, 3/24/10

Narrow escapes a-plenty in today’s comics! Let’s take a look —

Here ends speculation about how Mark would escape his awful “weapon-wielding woman” dilemma (“Must punch!” / “Can’t punch!”). Yesterday’s baffling snapshot turns out to have been no mere appeal to feminine vanity (a concept unknown to Mark anyway), but a crafty ruse to bring a lady-safe weapon to hand with which to disarm an unpunchable adversary. Well played, Mark — say, are those wiles you’re using? Where did you get those? Does Cherry know?

Gil Thorp, 3/24/10

Personality theorist Gordon Allport held that drives (“elope!”) originating in motives (“get married!”, “avoid parents!”) could grow independent of them, or functionally autonomous. And there’s no better example than surly dimwits Ray and Cassie here. But listen to master psychologist and negotiator Steve Luhm unravel the fabric of their self-deception: “Go to Vegas? Why? You can get legally married right here! And Cassie’s parents can’t do anything about it, so why not wait ’til they get back and stick it all up in their faces, yo! Nobody expects you to behave like adults, anyway!”

After the wedding, Cassie’s new husband and her dad join in a savage mutual beat-down of Steve, their only shared interest. The annual beatings, like their friendship, far outlast the marriage and their memories of the day.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/24/10

I had a disturbing thought today. We all know that Rex and June Morgan haven’t really been themselves for some time, what with Rex’s sexual-identity issues, June’s out-of-control obsessions with housekeeping and other people’s children, and the disengaged silence of their lives even as everyone and everything around them crashes into sick burning hell. Despite their recent carefree what — three-day? eight-month? — Caribbean cruise, they seem depressed. And when these two loser twentysomethings showed up, Rex and June couldn’t even summon the energy for more than a stern chat.

Are Rex and June leaving the strip? Are Toots and Brook their replacements?

It could be a desperate marketing gimmick to attract younger readers, or just a salary dispute — after all, who can afford an M.D.’s salary and an R.N.’s just to fill up that tiny patch of newsprint every day. It could be a charitable effort by their syndicate to give these two comic stalwarts the rest of their lives back after all those years of faithful service. In the end, it’s not ours to judge: thank you, Rex and June, and farewell!

So many questions for our new First Couple! What about Abbey (stay!) and Sarah (go!)? Brook, we assume you’ll want to cut back those bangs — folks around here are used to a little more eyebrow, you know what I’m saying? We can talk about wardrobe once you’re settled in, but let me say for now that a certain double-breasted zebra-print belly-sweater is not part of the long-term picture. Also, would a little lipstick kill you, girl?

Oh hi Toots — you still here?

Yeah, they’ll fit in just fine.

Apartment 3-G, 3/24/10

Ha ha panel-two Margo sure is steamed to be listening to her Dad’s treacle while the scent of blood hangs in the air.

Crankshaft, 3/24/10

“Heh, heh — we can’t reward your cheerful attention and hard work in the culturally-accepted way, because it would trivially complicate our petty, exaggerated displays of fairness to one another — people who actually matter! We’re either sure you understand, or unconcerned that you don’t! Hey, my coffee’s cold — get a move on, willya — you’re not gettin’ paid to stand around talking!”

Hey, it’s the Spring 2010 Fundraiser — please join your fellow Comics Curmudgeon readers and me in financial support for Josh Fruhlinger and his fine work on this blog — thank you!

— Uncle Lumpy