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Dick Tracy, 1/28/09

I spent longer than I care to recount staring at the final panel of this cartoon, trying to figure out what Dick was getting at. Was there some other way to pronounce “perfume” that would cause this apparent play on words to make some sort of sense? “Especially because you’re making perfume for my wife. Or is it per-foom-ay? Just like your house went a-boom-ay? Wait, no, hold on a second…” Eventually, I figured out that the final word panel should be read as “Or is it perfume?” I don’t want to single out Dick Tracy, because Random Bolding Syndrome is an affliction that strikes virtually every comic ever created, though some more than others (*cough* Mark Trail *cough*). Here’s a helpful tip for comics artists: try reading your dialogue aloud, adding emphasis, before committing it to word balloons, OK?

I did not, however, have to think very long to figure out what Dick was getting at with “Just want to know you better” in the first panel; obviously it involves electrodes, sensitive body parts, pleas for mercy, etc.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/28/09

I can’t even begin to tell you how unsettled I am by panel two Rex, with his pursed, fleshy lips and suddenly beady and lizard-like eyes. Maybe he’s trying to cut his usual condescending tone to his wife by feigning a sympathetic and concerned facial expression, but he has no real idea what that would look like, so he’s just flexing his face muscles at random and hoping for the best. Meanwhile, in panel three, Rex and June look less like they’re discussing the abstract possibility of some little boy they don’t know being lost, and more like they’ve been given some terrible, devastating piece of personal news, like “Little Sarah didn’t get into that elite pre-school because they found her uncanny and creepy” or “Honcho Magazine no longer has home delivery.”

Crankshaft, 1/28/09

It’s good to know that the ’Shaft occasionally feels a frisson of remorse for his many monstrous crimes.

Apartment 3-G, 1/28/09

“Love! Happiness! The giddiness of a new relationship! I … I … does not compute! Should I just slit her throat now and make a run for it?”

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Mary Worth, 12/4/08

I realize that I have ignored a very exciting last several days in Mary Worth. Lynn had a picture of … a boy in her pocket! And then Mary saw it! And Lynn freaked out! And she fainted! (But she’ll be fine.) But there’s something even more troubling than the stress-related faint! And that more troubling thing is … IS …

(The fact that all this constitutes a very exciting last several days in Mary Worth tells you pretty much all you need to know about Mary Worth.)

Anyway, bets are now being taken as to what the “troubling” unexplainable medical condition will be. Potential answers: pregnancy, venereal disease, insanity, Electra complex, droopy-ponytail-itis. While we’re waiting, I dare you to make sense of the arrangement of grey and off-green on the wall behind Mary and Evil Figure Skating Father-Coach, either in the individual panels or taking the strip as some kind of theoretical whole.

Herb and Jamaal, 12/4/08

If my years of reading Herb and Jamaal have taught me anything, it’s that this potentially interesting story about Herb’s crime-terrorized barber will be dropped after today, and that his discomfiting anxiety has been trotted out entirely in the service of a cheap gag about shaking hands. Tune in next week for similar yucks when Jamaal’s doctor turns out to have a devastating alcohol problem!

Crankshaft, 12/4/08

This just in: everyone in Crankshaft, without exception, is terrible. “Really, son, this paycheck just goes to show that getting in on the ground floor somewhere to pursue your dreams is for suckers and poor people. Why not work in a high-paying job you hate so you can look as beaten down and miserable as we do at all times?”

I am kind of amused by the fact that the sepia-toned, old-timey album photo panel, once reserved for storylines like Crankshaft’s days in the minors in the late ’40s, has now just become Crankshaft shorthand for “events that happened previously” — even when, in this case, the events occurred well into the era of digital color photography.

Mark Trail, 12/4/08

“I wish I had let Andy come with me!” “I’m beginning to worry about our friend too, Andy!” Hey, guys, Andy can’t always be there paw-holding you as you make your way through life, OK? You’re going to learn how to do things on your own. Meanwhile, it’s obvious that the real hero of this storyline will be Sneaky, clawing at the face of anyone, or possibly everyone, within reach once the melee starts.

Family Circus, 12/4/08

Getting a new encyclopedia for Billy is obviously unthinkable, since it would be full of all that devilish “new learning.” Even the 1955 World Book was chock full of sin, which is why Mommy had to consolidate the clean parts into this single tattered volume.

Apartment 3-G, 12/4/08

At last, Margo’s going to live out her ultimate fantasy — a three-way with two dudes who look exactly alike! Oh, wait, I just described every M-F-M three-way in the Apartment 3-G universe.

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Crock, 11/18/08

You know, I’ve become accustomed to being unamused, irritated, or actively angered at the jokes in Crock; but I’m a little unsettled at being completely befuddled by the jokes in Crock, as I am today. Passing over the oddity of someone insulting an immobile desert plant for spending all day in the sun, what on earth are we to make of the cactus’s riposte? Is it meant to mock us for driving, as if the only way to get out of the sun is to drive to shade? Is “sitting all day at four bucks a gallon” a reference to all the time we sit in our cars, which is a choice we make, whereas a cactus must spend the day in the sun due to biological necessity? Is there a heretofore unexplored traffic problem around the Foreign Legion outposts in the Maghrebi desert?

Anyway, normally I’d see something like a giant orange cactus and think “Ha ha, another colorist screw-up!” But in this case, I think it might be an attempt to distract the reader from the nonsensical punchline.

Mark Trail, 11/18/08

Oh my God, if you work at a newspaper, and/or have access to newspaper layout software, and you can create a fake newspaper front page like the one in panel one — with FAMOUS CONSERVATIONIST RESCUES RACCOON screaming across six columns of type, and an enormous picture of Mark and Sneaky, and what appears to be some kind of sidebar story in the rightmost column (“Mysterious ‘Rabbit’ Unrepentant, Soggy”) — then you will be my personal hero. Well, one of my personal heroes, anyway, because right now my personal hero is Jack Elrod, for not letting this story end with a single punch but rather setting up further punching opportunities by having our two villains join forces. I’m particularly in love with the image of Charlie cruising around the rough part of town (or the local gas station, whatever) looking for a raccoonnapping yokel with a chip on his shoulder and a bruise on his jaw.

Funky Winkerbean, 11/18/08

The next two to four weeks of Funky Winkerbean, in a nutshell: HOLY CRAP GIRLS PLAY SPORTS NOW smirking, foreboding

Crankshaft, 11/18/08

The next two to four weeks of Crankshaft, in a nutshell: HOLY CRAP GIRLS DRIVE BUSES NOW smirking, terrible puns