Archive: Dennis the Menace

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/14/07

Sometimes I get a terrifying moment where I believe I control the comics with my mind and all the nonexistent subtext I go on and on about is actually true, and I had a doozy of one of those when I read today’s Rex Morgan. Sure, it’s the usual “Hey, Rex, let’s screw!” “I think someone’s forgetting our arrangement” routine that we’ve come to know and love, but then everybody’s fun is spoiled by the look of heartbreaking disappointment on June’s face in panel three. Yes, Rex is dashing off, and by taking Nikki with him, it’s check and mate, if you know what I mean; June is once again the lonely point on the triangle. Will the next plotline be about how June needs to strike out on her own to find love, or at least satisfaction? Or will it just be endless pederastic innuendoes about fishing, with that sad, big-eyed face in the last panel floating at the edge of our consciousness for the next six to eight weeks?

Rex’s already feeble desire to have the relations with his wife may have been further dampened by her weirdly elongated neck and oddly shaped head in the first panel. Watch out, Elastic Lass! You need to return your body to its default configuration before interacting with the non-stretchies, or you’ll disturb them!

Gil Thorp, 9/14/07

I knew that high school sports have an essentially religious significance in the God-forsaken burg of Milford, but that didn’t prepare me for the scene of absolute mayhem in the third panel here, which I assume to be a vignette from a football pep rally of some kind. As Gil announces the starters for this year’s team, he seems oblivious to the monstrous geyser of flame erupting from the Earth’s crust just behind him. Presumably, as is the tradition, the student body is celebrating the beginning of football season by gathering in front of the town volcano. They’ve ingested some kind of hallucinogenic root or fungus, so instead of fleeing in terror from the magma, they writhe in a great ecstatic mass, as you can see in the background. Those who are splashed by the ultrahot lava but survive are considered to be marked by the fire gods, and will be permitted to try out for the team next year, which explains why the Mudlarks are all so hideously ugly and/or deformed.

Family Circus, 9/14/07

Wow, Billy really, really cares about music. And about imposing his will on everybody around him. I don’t know what’s more unnerving: the fact that he looks like he’s about to haul off and punch his sister in the face for mishumming some damn Wiggles song, or the fact that Dolly looks sad and scared but also resigned to being punched in the face because, really, she should have learned the melody better before humming it in public.

For Better Or For Worse, 9/14/07

There’s a lot to dislike about this FBOFW. For instance, it’s fairly obviously a new strip, but it’s just as obviously been done in the style of the old strips we’ve been seeing for the past few weeks, which is kind of jarring. I guess the simpler style is supposed to represent “in the past”, but the lettering and the gradients and multiple background characters give it away. It also features that stunning and totally unselfaware Michael Patterson self-regard we’ve all come to know and loathe. But I still kind of like it, because panel four features baby Elizabeth visibly vomiting, and there just isn’t enough puke in the funny pages for my taste.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/14/07

There are generally two kinds of reaction shots in the punchline panel of Snuffy Smith. Either one character is visibly laughing, mouth open and tongue wagging, because the simple folk of Hootin’ Holler don’t need anything more than the corny jokes typical of Snuffy Smith to have a good time; or one character looks frowny-faced and wrinkle-browed, because even in Hootin’ Holler, the best kind of punchline involves someone suffering at least a little bit. But rarely do you see the sort of dumbstruck amazement that’s on the face of Snuffy in panel two here. It’s as if he’s thinking, “Jesus Christ, was this Snuffy Smith built around a frickin’ astrology joke? Seriously?”

Dennis the Menace, 9/14/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because Mr. Wilson doesn’t have any friends!

Luann, 9/14/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because Brad doesn’t have any friends!

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What could be more obvious, more crank-turningly predictable than pre-Labor Day back-to-school themes? Nothing, that’s what! So let’s get started!

Dennis the Menace, 08/31/07

Here’s an archetypical back-to-school strip: cozy old theme, a little wordplay, easy on the menace, bang, out of the studio and beat the bridge traffic to the shore. Oh, and Alice Mitchell looks hot in that old-school put-together way. Knows it, too. Mmmm. But I digress.

Curtis, 08/31/07

Nobody turns the crank like Ray Billingsley — it’s like he’s the one working a desk at the DMV. Michelle spurned Curtis? Check! Here comes “Mom won’t buy what I want” as night follows day. Cue Magical Gunk! Barry, wet up that bed! On in five, “Onion”! Greg, smoke ’em if you got ’em! How Billingsley must pray for Kwanzaa, when the mushrooms ripen at last and his mind can soar free.

Crankshaft, 08/31/07

Tom Batiuk once had no peer at whimsy — the hall-monitor machine gun, soliloquies atop the gym rope, band gales. All swept from the cancerscape of FW of course, and alive in Crankshaft only as this ham-handed pretext ginned up to showcase Ed’s relentless petty spite.

Sally Forth, 08/31/05 and 08/28/07

Hey, look — Hilary’s going into the sixth grade. Stretchin’ right out, too — King Features might want to rethink that “precocious 10-year-old” business. And I’m pretty sure that’s her Dad’s manic glint in the second strip. Poor Sally.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Dennis the Menace, 8/27/07

It’s not particularly hard to parse the look Alice is giving Dennis in this panel — I’m pretty sure that something along the lines of “Fine, don’t chew, you’ll just be all the more likely to choke to death so we can be free of you” is running through her head. The fact that she’s wearing a black cocktail dress adds to her aura of icy disdain, but it seems kind of out-of-place at a family dinner for just the three of them. Perhaps this is a glimpse into the alternate-reality version of the strip, Dennis, Viscount of Stokington? That would explain the ultra-formal attire: the whole noble family is supping at their seat, Menacing House, with Henry, the 16th Marquess of Forth and Stoke, despairing that his unruly heir will ever be considered cultured enough to follow in his footsteps to Eton and Oxbridge.

Family Circus, 8/27/07

Hooray for the coloring gnomes, who apparently noticed that the caption here makes reference to “leaves … starting to change” and actually colored the leaves in the background accordingly! That doesn’t forgive the obvious and unexplained dollop of red at the end of Billy’s football, however. The ball is too blunt to stab anybody with, so presumably our little towheaded psychopath killed an innocent in some other way, then dipped the football in the spilled blood, hoping to thereby gain totemic power.

Mary Worth, 8/27/07

Great Jesus Christ, do I want to know why Mary was apparently sitting on Dr. Jeff’s lap while he was doing something “tiresome” at the computer? Or why she has that bizarre, fixed smile on her face? Leaving Jeff to go to bed in what appears to be the middle of the afternoon? Please, take us back to Dr. Drew, with his Star Trek-themed three-way fantasies, I’m begging you.

Momma, 8/27/07

I’m assuming that “– you know — life” is code for “the facts of life” which is in turn code for “the basics of human sexuality and reproduction.” Momma’s clearly right to pick her battles, as nobody, least of all us poor readers, would want to see the how her core values on sexuality — that any woman who has sex before marriage, or enjoys it afterwards, is no better than a common harlot — would be received. But maybe a bit of an explanation would have made things better for her son.

Pluggers, 8/27/07

Normally I just snicker immaturely at pluggers from my elevated position as an East Coast cultural elitist, but today’s installment strikes me as quite poignant. As our plugger hero stirs with furrowed brow, he almost seems to be saying a little prayer: Please, Lord, let me poop tonight. Please. I try to be a good person. I think it’s been nearly a week.