Archive: Dick Tracy

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Gil Thorp, 2/3/23

My favorite thing about new-look Gil Thorp is that Gil now has a coaching enemy in Luke Martinez. Previously, all Gil’s animus was reserved for the media in the person of Marty Moon, while he and his bland rival coaches would just shake hands manfully at the end of games and trade respectful banter. Well, no more! Coach Martinez is, like Richard III, determined to prove a villain, and he really leans into it, like getting all singleted up and telling a wary group of teens about that time he absolutely pile-drived those French wimps who thought they could take him down. He also has an assistant whose full-time job is to monitor what Gil’s up to and keep Luke up to date on rivalry opportunities. Not sure what possible direction for this is funnier: that Coach Martinez might enter the Lift-A-Thon himself, raising money for the Milford athletics department and outraging the Valley Tech school board in the process, or if he just shows up in the crowd and tries to taunt Gil into herniating himself.

Dick Tracy, 2/3/23

I sincerely hope we never learn even a little about whatever Willie Lumpkin’s deal is. As far as I’m concerned, his whole life is just mopping the floor for Mr. Goodman, and if some cop comes in yammering about snipers and roof access, that’s none of his business. It broke up the monotony a little bit, but Tracy tracked in some dirt which means more mopping, so it’s all a wash, really.

Beetle Bailey, 2/3/22

Speaking of monotony, you eve think about how awful and boring existence as one of the supporting one-note characters in Beetle Bailey must be? Cookie’s whole deal is that he’s the cook, but he can’t taste anything, hasn’t been able to taste anything in years. That heart on his bicep used to be bright red, but now it’s fading to nothingness. Beetle can spare a single panel of open mouthed horror, but then he’s going to walk out the door and Cookie will be left alone again, endlessly stirring a pot of something orange that he’ll never be able to taste.

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Dick Tracy, 1/28/23

I don’t know why, but I find Art Dekko’s statement that, while he’s hiding from possible spear gun murder, he’ll “have food delivered and such” very funny. He just wants you to know that he’s thought this thing through, OK? And honestly Sue Reel’s reaction is even funnier. Sue, thanks to the new wave of food delivery apps, you can enjoy delicious entrees from just about any restaurant in Neo-Chicago at home, or, in this case, in your storeroom! You may be a character created in 1980 whose name is a pun on “surreal” and who has a mustache in tribute to surrealist artist Salvador Dali, but surely you know that delivery isn’t just for pizza anymore?

Beetle Bailey, 1/28/23

Wow, it seems like the folks over at Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC have finally gotten wind of “Drynuary,” a concept that’s at least seventeen years old! Saturday strips are often about how the Halftrack marriage is a hellish prison, but I like that today’s is about the two of them teaming up to defeat the only thing they loathe more than each other: sobriety.

Mary Worth, 1/28/23

Ah, it looks like Estelle and Ed have gotten to the part of the evening where they just say the names of their dishes to one another. That’s good, right? I’ve been out of the dating scene for a while now.

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Blondie, 1/25/22

OK, a cat wedding isn’t that wacky — like maybe it’s in the top 20 percent of wacky things that might conceivably happen to a caterer — but this strip did make me realize that frankly nothing particularly wacky ever happens to Dagwood. Like, he goes to work, annoys his carpool, gets yelled at by his boss, eats fast food, etc., etc. Oh, did you go to a bird store and the bird store guy said something weird about the bird, Dagwood? BORING. What I’m trying to say is that he should know better than now to try to one-up his wife on this point.

Dick Tracy, 1/25/22

It must be kind of fun to be Kriptonite — no, wait, I mean Kyptonite — sorry, that’s just Kryptonite, I guess. Anyway, it must be fun to be him because you don’t have to keep track of the various inscrutable feuds within the Tracyverse underworld. Someone calls you up, pays you some money, and then you go and murder someone else with a speargun! Is the guy you’re supposed to murder today the same guy who paid you to murder someone else like two weeks ago? Who knows! You don’t keep written records of all this stuff! It’s murder! Why would you?

Mary Worth, 1/25/22

ME, ON A DATE, REALIZING THAT THE DEAD DOG TALK ISN’T GOING SO WELL: I’m really enjoying working with my nephew! The job stresses him out, though. Probably because of all the dogs we keep killing [no damn it shut up shut up shut up]