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Archie, 9/30/09

I’m all in favor of comically over-exaggerated gestures, and thus I approve of Reggie facepalming in reaction to Jughead’s cheerfully open Jason Blairing. Still, I’m a little concerned about the massive wind-up he took on it. Note the shockwaves radiating from the beleaguered egotist’s face; that’s going to bruise, I’m afraid.

Crock, 9/30/09

Since I’m always quick to mock the syndicate colorists for blatantly ignoring in-strip coloring cues, I feel obliged to give them kudos for their work here. Grossie is being praised for her “new dress,” despite the fact that, in black and white, she’d appear to be wearing the exact same niqab-esque thing she always wears. At least the colorists have ensured that today she appears to be wearing a sort of hideous lilac shade instead of her usual unflattering safety orange.

Family Circus, 9/30/09

Well, it appears that we are going to be subjected to Jeffy’s intermittent pantslessness and naked ass more or less indefinitely. If only the monsters responsible would just let us know what their demands are so that we could agree to them immediately, no matter how humiliating!

Luann, 9/30/09

You know, say what you will about the Brad-Toni storyline in Luann, but at least when I encounter it I know what to feel (revulsion). I admit to having no idea what to make of the Elwood thing, which is … storytelling, of a kind, I suppose? Is “bafflement” sort of like “involvement”? I’m not even firm on how old the supposed millionaire is supposed to be; as originally introduced, I think he was supposed to be in high school with the other characters, but now he’s … not? Anyway, I can see two reasons why Elwood would allow the sixteen-year-old object of his misguided affections keep the big honkin’ diamond he wooed her with: either he really is as rich as all that, or it’s a tiny camera with a wireless transmitter and his long-running plan is finally coming to fruition.

Marmaduke, 9/30/09

“In related news, our dog is a terrible four-tongued demon-thing!”

I’ve posted about this before, but I’ve been receiving a flurry of emails about it, so: Yes, there’s a Marmaduke movie in the works. Yes, Fergie and Jeremy Piven are in the cast. Yes, it will be rated NC-17, for the most horrifying violence ever depicted on screen.

Marvin, 9/30/09

I’m not sure I approve of S&M overtones in strips involving babies, but if in the end Marvin gets punished, I guess I can’t complain too much.

Spider-Man, 9/30/09

Dear Spider-Man-reading public eagerly awaiting another instance in which this strip’s hero, who is ostensibly endowed with “spider-sense” that “tingles” at the approach of danger, is nevertheless bashed in the back of the head by an entirely non-super-powered adversary, such as a bowler-cap-wearing manservant or a brick: today is your lucky day.

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Hey, it’s the Comics Curmudgeon Fall Fundraiser — help keep this site strong and independent!

Click the banner above to contribute any amount — and receive your “What Would Margo Do?” bracelet with our thanks! Full details here.

9/23 Fundraiser update: Bracelets are now on the way for Day 2 contributions — FIRST CLASS, just like our generous readers! Thank you!

A plea: If you receive your bracelet today or tomorrow, would you please email a photo of it on your wrist to uncle.lumpy@comcast.net? If I get enough for a collage, I’ll post it Friday — as, I dunno, the “Wrists of Just Us” or something. Thanks!

Crock, 9/23/09

OK, I know this is two Crocks in a week and honestly I’m really sorry but Gaaah! this is the grimmest panel I’ve ever seen, and I read Cathy. The punchline here seems to be “Ha ha you are a slave”, or at best “Ha ha you are a slave so work harder.” It doesn’t look like the soldier is actually confused about his servitude, and if he is, it’s due no doubt to hallucinations from the sunstroke and heat exhaustion that will soon kill him.

Crock’s use of the doomed soldier’s name before his complete objectification and annihilation just twists the knife.

Archie, 9/23/09

I like Archie: it’s kinda sweet and old-timey. Plus, there’s visual madness in the reaction shots from the photograph and the giant Kool-Aid not-quite-emoticon on the CRT. The artists also deliver gratuitous Cammie cheesecake from time to time, and you can almost always tell they’re still trying. But not today, alas — c’mon, if the school paper were already in fact digital, then students couldn’t read it on their phones and you’d have a joke. As it is, you have, well, a perfectly sensible but unfunny editorial. And Doonesbury‘s pretty much got that niche locked up.

Curtis, 9/23/09

Technically speaking, there is a joke in today’s Curtis (“bigger dummy than the dummy”), but let’s watch poor Curtis labor mightily to set it up. Start with panel 1’s Herb and Jamaally intro, already reeking of flop sweat. Then: can’t say “toilet” in a family strip? OK, “down the plumbing!” Need a reference to sexual indiscretion, but it has to be G-rated? OK, how about trying to pick up a mannequin. Obligatory tech reference? YouTube! (What, Twitter’s busy?) Finally, exhausted, Curtis wrestles this steaming gelatinous mass to the finish, and Barry delivers the featherweight punchline. Same time tomorrow, Sisyphus.

Gil Thorp, 9/23/09

OK, this is Duncan Daley, capable but non-flashy Milford tackle (and counterpoint to Jamarr Gaddis, fast but tiny self-promoting wide receiver used to decoy defenders from stolid running back Robb Larue). Formerly a party animal with ready access to his lookalike brother’s ID, Duncan has matured into a focused, R.C.-sipping young adult, no doubt because of what his brother said.

So you don’t have to, faithful reader — so you don’t have to!

Operation H-Town update: Mary Worth, 9/23/09

Well, Officer Colleague has certainly learned a valuable lesson today, hasn’t he? Kids, don’t go calling people “under arrest” until they can no longer shoot at you.

OK OK OK! Detective Scott Hewlett lives to live another day! Check out his prospects at the fabulous Scott’s Drug Bust Pool spreadsheet, created by faithful reader 8th Man Fan. Want a piece of the action? Use the awesome Scott’s Drug Bust Pool Form. Contribute your winnings to the Comics Curmudgeon Fall Fundraiser! And thank you, faithful reader 8th Man Fan!

Margo Moments — a Fall Fundraiser special, part 3

Apartment 3-G (panels) — 12/21/2006, 1/11, 2/27, 4/17, 4/19, 4/26, 7/2, 7/3, 8/3/2007

What would Margo do? The streets of New York are littered with the bones of those who thought they knew! Contribute to The Comics Curmudgeon today, and avoid their fate! When you do, we’ll rush your “What Would Margo Do?” bracelet to you, so you can project the power of Margo — from your wrist, to your hand, to their throats!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Oddly coincident with my stewardship here at The Comics Curmudgeon, the Sunday comics are rolling out their B-Teams. Let’s take a look.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/20/09

OK, Rex Morgan, M.D. usually disappoints by dishing out endless observational chit-chat between Rex and June followed by a lot of talking on phones, and then, once everyone has lost interest, annihilating some minor character in a hail of gunfire or whatnot. Josh cites this as one factor in The Rex Morgan Problem, and I will not say him nay. But here’s a new and disturbing development — after weeks of observational chit-chat between secondary character Becka and assorted walk-ons, one of them (wildlife writer Tim Howard, and there’s fifteen minutes of my life I won’t get back) flies into an incandescent rage over a minor procedural issue in the organization of search parties. By the time we reach the final panel, we envy poor, wet, demented Pearl and Henry (oh God why me), feeling that the story that’s tormented us since June is fresh and new.

Also: “A@#SS“!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/20/09

Passing by the fact that Snuffy is himself a replacement for long-departed Barney Google, what’s with poor Micah? This is the first we hear of him — yet, as the only gainfully-employed resident of Hootin’ Holler, he must’ve been the centerpiece of the Gazette‘s business section for years. I mean, it’s not like violence and murder are going to crowd him out of the paper — the Gazette puts the Police Blotter, casualty list, and obits in agate type behind the classifieds.

Apartment 3-G, 9/20/09

Oh, and here’s Aristotle Papagoras, newly emblondened and ready for his closeup. This charlatan pusher absent-mindedly bilks disease-addled Dr. “Skully” Bryant out of his lucrative Upper East Side psychiatric practice, while thought-babbling obsessively about his junkie skank “patient.” This better end in murder, and I don’t much care who.

Crock, 9/20/09

Yes, for quite a few years now, as a matter of fact!

— Uncle Lumpy