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Apartment 3-G, 3/15/08

Joe strikes me as the sort who was raised in a more genteel and conservative age, and so I assume that he’s referring to Lu Ann, with “friend” standing in as a euphemism for “that woman you have sex with and yet refuse to marry as the laws of man and God demand.” Sure, it seems weird that Joe would have The View Girl Talk showing on his cafe’s TV at whatever hour Alan is rolling in after a rough night of heroin and whoring, but at least we’ve been warned about her promised appearance in advance. Still, I really hope that, when Alan looks up at the TV, he’ll see the smiling face of the only other person in the strip whom he might consider a friend: Jones the beatnik! Maybe there’s a news story about how he was gunned down by the NYPD in a drug bust gone bad; or, better, maybe he’s the star of a new reality dating show where girls will compete to trade their sweet bodies for his dubious charms.

Mark Trail, 3/15/08

Yay, petnappers! Man, Mark Trail hasn’t seen a good petnapping plot since the delightfully gothic backwoods animal-thievin’ tale that we were privileged to read back in the winter of ’05-’06. These animal-ransoming ne’er-do-wells seem like hardscrabble urban working class types rather than yokels per se, and are significantly less grotesque than the last bunch. Do they plan to steal Woods and Wildlife’s prize puppy before the sick little contest winner can lay her feeble hands on it? Or is this pathetic young dog-lover an entirely fictional construct, cooked up by these thugs to lay their hands on one more innocent little creature that they can sell? And, perhaps the most important question of all: Will some noble soul urge them at some point to “please [not] steal any more pets”?

Momma, 3/15/08

The first two panels of today’s Momma do such a good job of recapitulating the origins of the current housing credit meltdown that it seems petty to point out that “You know what darling? You’re pathetic” doesn’t actually constitute a punchline as such, and that the attempt to draw Momma saying this through gritted teeth has only succeeded in transforming her face into a melting, Dali-esque horror.

Crankshaft, 3/15/08

In Crankshaft, the younger characters have finally decided to kill off the elderly hate-demons who dominate and suck all the joy out of their lives.

Slylock Fox, 3/15/08

And in Slylock Fox, the monkeys have finally decided to rise up against us, as deep down we all knew they someday would.

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Zits, 3/11/08

Today’s Zits disturbed and horrified me — not, I hasten to add, because there’s something wrong with a woman of a certain age (or any age, for that matter) dancing around in such a fashion as to cause her bosoms to jiggle and sway. No, my gripe is in how said breasts are depicted. The rightmost Connie is depicted frozen in a moment in time and leaning back, presumably as she dances to the music; in a world governed by the laws of physics as I understand them, her breasts should themselves be at the top of their gentle arc, perhaps raised up a bit from the rest of her chest. Instead, they appear to be wriggling around as she stands motionless, as if they were the tentacles around the mouth-parts of Cthulu, an illusion made all the more real by the fact that there seem to be six of them. If I saw such a thing on the front of any human female, let alone my mother, I too would beg for hysterical blindness.

Cathy, 3/11/08

Speaking of nameless horrors, there’s something unsettling about today’s Cathy, and not in the usual way, either. What exactly does Irving mean by “a person like you”? And why is Cathy standing in front of some kind of inky black portal in the final panel? “I know! That’s why I can’t go back!” she proclaims, terrified of the unspoken but no doubt awful fate that awaits her at the demonic so-called “gym”. But it doesn’t matter that she refuses to go — the darkness is looming behind her, threatening to swallow her up.

For Better Or For Worse, 3/11/08

Man, check out Liz’s face in that final panel. She looks pretty pleased with herself, doesn’t she? Remember, fellas: Nothing can bring a woman to orgasm faster than explaining carefully, with careful attention to the grammatical case of your relative pronouns, that you respect and value and her autonomy.

Meanwhile, Anthony is driving ever closer to the secluded clearing where he disposes of the bodies.

Dennis the Menace, 3/11/08

This may seem on the surface to be more run-of-the-mill submenacing, but what if by “I beat the sun up again” Dennis means not “I woke up before sunrise” but “I bested the sun in hand-to-hand combat”? You have to admit that if an eight-year-old kid managed to pummel our sun, which is 800,000 miles in diameter and has surface temperature of 9 million degrees, into submission, that would be pretty menacing — both because it would be a bad-ass achievement in and of itself and because it would send our planet’s temperature plunging close to absolute zero, killing all life on its surface. Henry and Alice will barely have time to bestir themselves before the very atmosphere freezes solid!

Herb and Jamaal, 3/11/08

I have to admit that I find the little puff of smoke hovering over the toaster in the first two panels of this strip totally adorable! It’s like the toaster is angry! Possibly because it has to just sit there and listen to this ancient, horrible joke.

Crankshaft, 3/11/08

Ha ha, the old lady slipped on the ice, probably seriously injuring herself! Man, I can’t wait to see how this barrel of laughs develops.

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Pluggers, 2/21/08

But … pluggers … are … dogs and cats … [head explodes]

OK, let’s pass over for the moment the obvious fact that the Pluggers staff have been “plugging” away at this hell-comic for so long that they’re completely blind to the fact that their characters are animal-headed beast-men and tackle the meat of the issue. The core assertion of today’s panel, stripped of its cutesy word-play, is that plugger neighborhoods are safe and idyllic and no crime ever happens there so the only wanted posters you’re likely to see are really “lost pet” flyers. Do people who live in peaceful, crime-free paradises like, um, Dallas believe that we decadent city dwellers festoon our our lightposts and mailboxes with wanted posters of actual criminals? Because I live in Baltimore, a town with
a bit of a crime problem, and I can tell you that the lightposts in our neighborhoods mostly sport … lost pet notices. And, admittedly, ads for yoga studios.

I may be completely misreading this, though. It’s possible that wanted posters in plugger neighborhoods have pictures of dogs and cats on them because pluggers are, in fact, dogs and cats.

Mary Worth, 2/21/08

Like most of Mary Worth, panel one of today’s strip is more enjoyable if you spend time thinking about the passive-aggressive subtext. “Yeah, dad, after, what, fifteen minutes spent actually helping people in country, you’ve spent a lot of weeks sitting on your ass in your minty green sweater trying to raise money — how’s that been going, huh? Oh, you found one generous sponsor? I’m sure those little kids with the deformed limbs are soooo happy about that.”

Like most of Mary Worth, panel two of today’s strip is more enjoyable if you spend time thinking about the perverse sexual subtext. “I’m most proud of the hand’s-on work I did there last year” [wink wink] … “I need to feel that” [wink wink; slip of paper with the addresses of several Hanoi brothels is exchanged].

Crankshaft, 2/21/08

“Yeah, I’ve got some problems keeping certain things sealed properly … when I’ve got some hot young plumber bent over in front of me … certain things like … my pants …” [funky bass-driven groove begins]

Just for the record, I’d be totally in favor of Crankshaft switching over to an all gay porn, all the time format. At least some of the characters would look happy once in a while.