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Slylock Fox, 11/15/09

Something seems seriously askew about the justice system in the world of Slylock Fox. Count Weirdly is the defendant in an elaborate trial with no fewer than five witnesses against him, yet we all know from experience that no matter what the verdict, he’ll be back in his critter-filled lair, plotting deranged, pointless evil, in only a few weeks’ time. It has to really make a lawfox like Slylock question the importance of his vocation, as he busies himself arranging the order in which his witnesses will testify in a needlessly complex fashion.

Meanwhile, in the Six Differences, our pastoral painter is about to learn about the drawbacks of photorealism the hard way, as a befuddled pooch, unable to differentiate between the representation and the represented, urinates all over his artwork.

Hagar the Horrible, 11/15/09

Yes, this bachelor rarely enjoys a home-cooked meal! He generally eats out, or eats a meal that he, uh, cooks at home. Oh, wait, I get it, “home-cooked” is code word for “cooked by a vagina-bearing individual!”

Panel from Blondie, 11/15/09

I found this panel strangely touching. While Dithers generally subjects Dagwood to nothing but persecution and abuse, when he finally admits to himself that his mind is going, he realizes that he’s driven away all intimate companionship with his bluster, and that Dagwood is the closest thing he has to a friend. However, subsequent panels completely fail to follow up on the notion of Dithers gradually going insane, and thus I quickly lost interest.

Panel from Crock, 11/15/09

Meanwhile, because the bottom half of the telephone handset depicted here seems to have vanished, when I first saw this panel I thought for a moment that Crock had decided to put a gun to his head and end both his life and the strip named after him. IF ONLY.

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Six Chix, 11/11/09

I suppose the joke of this strip is that our MC is admonishing not the audience but the actors on the necessity of turning of their cell phones, because HAW HAW THE KIDS TODAY AND THE CELL PHONES, amiright? But I’m frankly much more interested in the historic and dramaturgical significance of the largish cane being brandished by pilgrim #1 on the far left. Will he be swinging it about over the course of the show’s dance numbers, including “(The Church Ought To Be Organized On A) Congregationalist Model,” “My Goodness But I Am Very Hungry,” and “A Buckle On My Hat — What’s That About?” Or is it a vaudeville-style hook, to be used to drag off the lady pilgrim (for displaying the Sin of Pride by wearing whorish non-black-and-white clothes) or the Native American (for using all the good land)?

Apartment 3-G, 11/11/09

This is why you shouldn’t hire an aspiring Hollywood screenwriter as your PI, as he’s always trying to force the messiness of real life into his preconceptions of narrative entertainment. “Just think about it, Bobbie: what aging man doesn’t at some level yearn to recapture his lost youth via a tryst with a younger woman? And what wife doesn’t secretly worry that she won’t keep her husband’s attention as she gets older? The older, sophisticated audience we’re reaching for here will all be able to relate. And, I mean, check out the framing on these pics — see how the streetlamp serves as a spotlight on the secret lovers, isolating them in an island of illumination against a sea of darkness, symbolizing the way the whole world fades away when they’re together? It’s box office gold, baby! And once I figure out what the emotionally devastating denouement is going to be, I can guarantee that it’ll be Oscar time.” Instead, you should seek out experimental filmmakers in the tradition of Andrei Tarkovsky or Bela Tarr, who aren’t afraid to point their camera at the subject of investigation and just film his everyday activities for hours at a time.

Crock, 11/11/09

I was going to complain that Grossie’s comeback made little to no sense, but then I remembered that in the ever-shifting poorly drawn hell-world of Crock, one cannot count on one’s facial features or body parts remaining symmetrical, so it’s fully possible that “Sexy” Crock Lady Character Whose Name I Forget might from time to time have legs of wildly varying lengths or widths. But this is a universe where kneeless leg-stumps might be considered someone’s “best feature,” so I’m not sure if the punchline here is really an insult per se.

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Gil Thorp, 10/30/09

I may not be the most knowledgeable guy in the world when it comes to football — I lost all my play money in my family’s NFL pool by the end of week four this year — but I know enough to know that generally when one of your guys runs a punt back 98 yards for a touchdown, that’s a good thing, right? And yet there’s Coach Kaz, looking horrified and flapping his hands around theatrically. I suppose it’s not considered classy to run up the score when you’re already winning by more than two touchdowns in the fourth quarter, and we’re going learn some Valuable Lessons About Sportsmanship.

In a larger sense, I’m finally figuring out that there are really only two basic story-driving Mudlark character types: troubled loners and loudmouth jerks. And in this year’s football storyline we’re getting one of each! In SAT analogy terms, Duncan Daley:Cully Vale::Jamarr Gaddis:Andrew Gregory.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/30/09

Oh, man, just when I thought I couldn’t love Cue any more, what with his shiny bald head, his general attitude right on the border between menace and dyspepsia, and his continued and reckless use of the word “crib,” it turns out that he’s also a small-time pot dealer! “Take it easy man … I just called to get some weed” shall be solemnly inscribed in the book of Greatest Rex Morgan Quotes Ever; it certainly compares favorably to “Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to kill your buzz” for soap opera drug lingo verisimilitude. Now, you might think that Cue is being pretty selfless, passing up an opportunity to profit from the sale of illegal narcotics in order to bring these poor souls back to their home, but he’s actually thinking strategically. Someone in his line of work would love to have contact with a group of people who are largely idle all day, have a little bit of money, and don’t particularly care about any damage they might do to their short-term memory. Yes, sir, this trip’s gonna be lucrative for ol’ Cue, reward or no.

For Better Or For Worse, 10/30/09

Today is the day when I break my blood oath to ignore the pure rerun installments of FBOFW on this blog. I do so because I am so very, very amused by the title of the girlie magazine that John is reading not ten feet away from his wife in panel three. What sort of photography, pray tell, graces the inside pages of Nacho Man? Are there pictures of nearly nude ladies, their most intimate parts concealed only by a thick, gelatinous layer of melted nacho cheese? Are there sexy photo spreads featuring other popular bar foods, like chicken wings or mozzarella sticks? The mind boggles, and one ought to be thankful that we can clearly see both of John’s hands. Also of note is the ad on the back of this fine publication for Lion Tamer cologne, which, I assume, smells of sawdust, circus peanuts, panicked sweat, and lion shit.

Crock, 10/30/09

I kind of love the miserable expression on the face of Anonymous Legionnaire On The Left in panel two. It’s as if he knows that he will only appear in this one strip, and that his only purpose in his mayfly-brief existence is to elicit the punchline for this awful, awful joke, but despite that terrible self-knowledge, he is incapable of stopping himself.