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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 11/22/09

Wow, that big-eyed grinning severed teddy bear head in the third panel is certainly one of the more horrifying things I’ve seen today, yet it’s worth noting that, as the first panel shows, it’s only slightly less frightening while dangling detached from a dog’s jaws than it was when firmly attached to its original body. I can’t imagine ever giving such a nightmare-fueling monstrosity to a child, but I suppose that Li’l Tater will see worse things in the cesspool of incest and clan feuds that is Hootin’ Holler, so one might as well accustom the lad to horror from the get-go. And so why not attach the teddy bear head to what I assume is the skin of a real bear in some sort of unsettling hybrid? (The question of whatever became of the real head originally attached to the bearskin rug is best not thought about at any length.)

I do have to admit that the fifth panel, in which Loweezy holds the bear head gingerly by the ears and regards it dubiously while her useless husband cheerfully wanders off to get drunk on corn likker and then shoot at things, is a little masterpiece.

Mary Worth, 11/22/09

Well, it looks like Delilah’s sudden and discombobulating reappearance this week is really just meant to serve as a sort of a coda to Adrian and Scott’s story, the relevance of which I’d have an easier time parsing if I could remember what exactly the point of Delilah’s story was in the first place. Uh, true love triumphs over adversity, given enough time? Yeah, let’s go with that. Mostly I just feel bad that poor Leonard Cohen had to get dragged into this; he, along with Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova and Daniel Johnston, are victims of this strip’s ongoing attempt to destroy the reputation of various hipster indie musicians by associating them with Mary Worth.

Crankshaft and Funky Winkerbean, 11/22/09

A man tries to relax by rediscovering his favorite music, only to receive an unwelcome reminder of his own mortality; another man suffers from recurring stress nightmares, years after being forced to retire from the job that prompted them, and wonders when they’ll finally stop haunting him. A relaxing Sunday afternoon in the Funkyverse, everybody!

Mark Trail, 11/22/09

“The ocean without kelp is like the Earth without trees. That’s why we’re harvesting all the kelp for chemical and industrial purposes. Soon there will be no more kelp, just like there will soon be no more trees!”

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/22/09

I thought that those of you who don’t read Rex Morgan except when I mention it here might enjoy this panel, which features Tim throttling the hapless Cue, who soon provided the requested information. See, torture works! Specifically, Cue told Tim that Henry and Pearl had wandered off, which means that we’ll have to endure yet more oldster pursuit across various waterlogged golf courses.

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Spider-Man, 11/7/09

Oh my goodness, have I somehow managed to completely miss to this point the fact that Spider-Man crime honcho Bigshot is in fact a person of diminutive stature? And that his “Bigshot” moniker is thus delightfully ironic? That’s the conclusion I’m drawing from first two panels. It’s also possible that American’s bankers, apparently deciding that ordinary citizens no longer give them proper respect in the wake of the financial meltdown, have installed raised daises for their tellers so that they can literally glare down at the little people.

Meanwhile, in panel three, the Sandman is showing that Bigshot doesn’t own him. Sure, he may be taking part in this bank heist in order to save his daughter’s life, but he scrupulously avoids using any coarse terms of abuse for lawmen. No, it’s just “pop,” “buddy,” and, if he really gets worked up, “bub.”

Phantom, 11/7/09

Hey, everyone, the Phantom’s wife got blown up! Apparently! But I hear this is the start of a seventeen-month storyline, at the end which I’m guessing the Walkers will be reunited, not that our hero has any way of knowing this, since he doesn’t read the trade press. I mostly just want to point out the implication of the final panel, which is that the creepy cave shaped like a human skull with a terrifying, yawning mouth used to denote good happy fun times for the Phantom and his kids.

Crankshaft, 11/7/09

Crankshaft’s awful yuppie neighbor exists mainly to make Crankshaft look vaguely sympathetic and it’s kind of working here today. Jeez, the old guy’s proud of finally learning the names of all the Canadian provinces and territories, OK? Does it cost you anything to let him finish?

Beetle Bailey, 11/7/09

You know, we all poke fun at the cancer in Funky Winkerbean, but for my money the most depressing things in the comics are the Beetle Bailey strips about how General Halftrack needs to drink himself into a stupor because he hates his wife so much. Dear everyone who can’t get enough booze-soaked marital discord in the paper: Have you tried watching Who’s Afraid Of Virginia Woolf? It’s like this, but good!

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Luann, 10/27/09

I spent more time than I’d care to admit trying, really trying, to make sense of the final panel in this strip in terms of fiber’s well-known effects on the human digestive system. Do the bran muffins separate people because said people need to scurry away from each other to take a dump? Or is there farting involved, which also can reduce people’s tolerance for proximity? Or … but then I realized that I was expending valuable brain energy on figuring out a damn Luann joke that wasn’t ultimately going to be very rewarding, and dwelling on tasteless ass jokes to boot, so I stopped.

I blame Marvin for the poop joke fixation.

Anyway, I’d like to point out that anybody who actually implements Papa DeGroot’s community-building idea will find his house pelted with eggs, toilet paper, and puzzle pieces in short order.

Herb and Jamaal, 10/27/09

Fortunately, today’s Herb and Jamaal has required no such overthinking process. Ha ha, Herb’s mother-in-law has dumped an entire pot of scalding chili on his genitals! Oh, how it must burn! Ha ha! Note that, thanks to Herb’s total commitment to awkwardly setting up lame jokes over multiple panels, he’s heroically cagey enough to leave the payoff for the end, even as his flesh sizzles.

Crankshaft, 10/27/09

The worst thing … wait, no, that’s not something I think that can really be quantified. Let me start again: One of the terrible things about living with Crankshaft is his unapologetic racism. Pam can’t have any of her friends of Celtic extraction over to visit, because she knows her father will lurk about, muttering audibly about “filthy potato-eaters.”