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Crock, 3/20/11

One way to tell when something has been a well-understood facet of mainstream world culture for at least a year or so is that weird, fumbling, semi-coherent references to it start appearing in legacy comic strips. One thing I find interesting about both this reference to WikiLeaks and the one that appeared a a couple months ago in Marvin (beaten to the punch by Marvin! the shame!) is that the word in both cases is rendered in both small and capital letters, in contrast with the standard all-caps orthography. This just draws attention to the word in a sort of “Hey, look at us, bein’ topical!” sense, with a negative effect on the overall humorousness of the strip (though of course even without the typeface issues that, “humorousness” could only be detected with the most delicate scientific instruments). It’s as if the authors, barely understanding who or what a “WikiLeaks” might be, are convinced that the internal capitalization is crucial to the word’s totemic power and must be preserved at all costs, when in fact it’s just an irritating legacy that’s trickled down from late ’90s branding practices in the high tech industry.

Speaking of trickling down, though, while Crock lost to Marvin in the “making a stupid joke about WikiLeaks” race, at least Crock’s stupid joke isn’t about pissing oneself.

Panels from Crankshaft, 3/20/11

Ha ha, just another day in the Funkyverse! “I experienced a brief moment of triumph! But now the physical and emotional agony that is my life has come to the fore once again. You can’t win your way out of suffering!”

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/17/11

Lureen is extremely depressed, just crying and crying for no reason she or anyone else can name. Do you find that funny, Loweezy? Apparently you do! Apparently you find it hilarious, you monster.

Crankshaft, 3/17/11

Actually, ‘shaft, I think he understands the motivational power that the the terror of violence instills just fine! On the other hand, I’m a little a disappointed that you didn’t come up with some terrible pun while commenting on this awful scene of abuse.

Crock, 3/17/11

I’m pretty sure this is the first time that a summary execution has been even hinted at in the comics pages.

Blondie, 3/17/11

You probably think that this is the cheeriest cartoon out of this batch, but Mr. Dithers knows what a shillelagh is for and how to use it. Enjoy your St. Patrick’s Day, everybody!

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Mark Trail, 2/28/11

“His name is Mark Trail and he is American.” God, has any phrase ever been so perfectly calculated to make your proud to be from the U.S. — or, if you aren’t from the U.S, to make you ashamed for being a filthy foreigner who can’t vote for the same President that Mark Trail votes for? (Mark Trail casts his ballot with his fist, so that there’s never any question of “voter intent”.) My heart was so swelled with patriotism upon reading this that I almost missed the insane implication that underlies this statement, namely that Mark somehow drifted in his small boat to another country, an exotic tropical island inhabited by white people. Who are these mysterious tribeswomen? Why have they dragged Mark back to their home rather than seeking medical attention for that festering black wound on his forehead? What oppressive regime causes them to fear being discovered in even this half-assed act of kindness? Why does Mark keep an autographed photo of his wife in his wallet? Is it in case he forgets her name, or forgets which of the baffling and terrifying females in his life he’s married to?

Crock, 2/28/11

God help me, I have to say that I like almost everything about this Crock strip. I like the way the camel is drawn to some kind of realistic scale, dwarfing the bartender and all the human-sized furniture in the strip. I like his nonviolent but apparently extremely effective threat to slobber all over our speciesist barkeep. But mostly I like the dialogue-less third panel, in which the camel grins at us triumphantly, with the telltale cartoon bubbles over his head indicating that he’s already well on his way to being drunk. Kudos to you, my soused desert-dwelling friend!

B.C., 2/28/11

Today’s B.C. accidentally raises an interesting question about primitive societies: in tiny early hominid bands — there can’t be more than, what, 10 named characters in the entire B.C. universe, right? — where everyone knew each other intimately, could much of what we think of as crime ever happen?

Apartment 3-G, 2/28/11

Ha, it’s only Monday and Margo is already getting lit. There’s a number of ways this story can end — in recriminations, in violence, in oversharing — and all of them are delicious.