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Curtis, 4/21/09

Ah, the innocence of youth! Way back in 2004, I found it unrealistic that Barry Wilkins would drop the word “chutzpah” into conversation. That, of course, was before Barry’s elder brother belched out the nonsense word-sequence “Say, they’ve set up a children’s biodiversity crafts and games stand,” making any quibbles about culturally specific vocabulary very much besides the point. At least I’m sure that some human somewhere has actually said “chutzpah.”

Apartment 3-G, 4/21/09

Tommie, if you defend yourself from sinister Dr. Joe by turning that can of HAIR SPRAY™ brand hairspray into a makeshift flamethrower, à la Rorschach from Watchmen, I will take back every bad thing I ever said about you.

And speaking of bad things, let’s look at just exactly what it is that Tuesday’s comics thought would make good grist for some light-hearted humor, shall we?

Crock, 4/21/09

Starvation.

Hi and Lois, 4/21/09

The naked exercise of economic privilege.

B.C., 4/21/09

Treasonous collaboration with a murderous oppressor.

Funky Winkerbean, 4/21/09

The gradual but unstoppable physical decline each one of us faces as we age, every new day being another step towards the grave.

Marvin, 4/21/09

The pungent odor of human excrement.

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Family Circus, 4/5/09

This has got to be one of the most heartbreaking Family Circus cartoons I’ve ever seen. After spending all day (and all of her young womanhood) shut in with her litter of squallers, she’s suddenly confronted with the prospect of interacting with another adult — someone who wouldn’t want to spend time in a living room covered with cheap plastic crap and poorly-colored pictures, someone who she might even want to look nice for. Naturally, it turns out to be just another one of the little neighborhood urchins. At least he’s proposing to take Jeffy outside, so she can weep with abandon.

Beetle Bailey, 4/5/09

At long last, Beetle Bailey admits that American soldiers in training might be preparing to do something other than make stale jokes about alcoholism, sexual harassment, and fisticuffs! Still, one has to hope that the final panel — in which it is suggested that Castro’s long-standing paranoia about a U.S. invasion is true, that France’s Pacific possessions will be an invasion target as America gets involved in its first-ever war with a nuclear-armed opponent, and that American soil itself will soon find itself under military occupation and martial law — is as far removed from reality as this strip’s typical content.

Crock, 4/5/09

The throwaway strip that sits atop each Sunday’s Crock always features the strip’s title character’s name carved into a stone monument sitting majestically in the middle of the desert, like some kind of Ayers Rock-like monument to the French colonial empire; generally random characters wander around said Crock-rock making confusing references to the joke to follow. So I suppose I shouldn’t be unsettled by today’s edition, in which the great monolith seems to be muttering obscenities to itself — but I am, OK? I really am.

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Mark Trail, 3/21/09

Now, there are certain aspects of this current Mark Trail storyline that some readers might deem “unrealistic.” For instance, in this suspicious day and age, would the average service employee just start handing out addresses (or, in this case, vague descriptions of cabin locations) of customers to any sideburned prison-orange-clad total strangers who ask? Perhaps not; but then again, would your average counter jockey even know where most of his customers live? I think it’s obvious that our mustachioed barista is, by the very virtue of his mustache, Mark’s sworn enemy. You’ll note that his facial hair is particularly outlandish, with a waxed curlicue on the left side of his face and an unruly bristle on the right; surely such a hairy-lipped cad can’t have lived in such close proximity to Mark for this long and escaped his righteous fists. Too cowardly to seek revenge himself, he instead recognizes a kindred spirit in his fellow baldy, and hopes to set the stage for Mark’s destruction by sending these two ne’er-do-wells right to our hero’s LoFo lair.

Funky Winkerbean, 3/21/09

Funky Winkerbean is cruel both to its characters and to its readers. We’ve endured this strip’s grey drone of depression for long enough; surely we earned the right to see the bloody, limb-severing melée that broke out when Harry Dinkle attempted to “conduct” his symphony. But no, instead of enjoying the catharsis and seeing the band room splattered with gore, we’re only treated to seeing one of the few students who somehow escaped the carnage, still in shock and just starting to come to terms to what she saw. Very unsatisfying.

Crock, 3/21/09

The war crimes trial of Commandant Vermin P. Crock was full of shocking revelations that brought First World citizens face to face with the atrocities that marked the colonial wars fought in their name. But it was the testimony about the Legion’s use of child soldiers that had the biggest impact on world opinion. “I loved those boys!” the defendant professed tearfully on the witness stand. “I made sure they received an excellent education, even in the midst of their military duties!” Was it a cynical attempt to blunt the force of the fury that had risen against him? Or was he genuinely blind to the enormity of what he had done to those children?