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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.

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B.C., 2/9/08

HO HO YES, THE POLITICIANS, THEY ARE ANNOYING! THOSE DEMOCRATS AND REPUBLICANS, THEY MAKE ME ANGRY! That’s exactly the sort of barbed and targeted attack on people’s closely held beliefs that will get you pulled out of the paper!

Legacy artist, please. Your shit-stirring does not impress. Start writing rambling, incoherent poems about Jesus and/or explaining how Christ came to put out the menorah and then we’ll talk.

Crankshaft, 2/9/08

If there’s one saving grace in Crankshaft, it’s Crankshaft’s total and complete dedication to angry misanthropy. In another kind of strip, this lame punny punchline (I think it’s supposed to be punny, though I admit to being at a loss as to just what “doodle date” is a pun on) would have been issued by a cheery old man in an avuncular fashion; but the ’Shaft’s facial expression in the third panel makes clear his utter disgust for those ink-stained wretches who have the nerve to quit drawing and move down to some nice place in Boca. “You know, I’ve totally screwed up my retirement savings plans and will have to drive a damn bus and deal with children I hate every damn day for the rest of my bile-shortened life, so I don’t see why any of these cartooning jerkfaces should get to enjoy their old age. They can kiss my white, wrinkled, hate-clenched ass.”

Gil Thorp, 2/9/08

Jeez, Gil, you’re lucky Andrew was able to shrug, seeing as his impossibly long and thin body in panel one seems to have been completely de-boned. Honestly, this may be the worst new-head-attached-to-random-body-from-somewhere-else drawing I can remember in Gil Thorp, and it appears in the same panel as someone who’s arm looks to be on backwards.

The dude peeking over Marty Moon’s shoulder in panel three, meanwhile, seems to be on the verge of complete rapture. I know that high school sports is the primary form of entertainment in the blighted wasteland from which the Valley Conference schools draw their student body, but that guy is just too excited about the Mudlark starting lineup. My guess is that Milford’s “spirit squad” has started handing out Ecstasy to fans at the door.

Family Circus, 2/9/08

“You also may be a Neanderthal, with your protruding browridge and subhuman intellect. What I’m trying to say is, we’re selling you to a circus sideshow.”