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Dick Tracy, 7/17/13

When we last checked in with Moon Maid, she was fleeing to Dairyland after her attempt to return to the moon ended in failure. Given the traditionally Chicago-centric world of Dick Tracy, it seemed reasonable to assume that this was a reference to the nearby great state of Wisconsin. But today’s strip makes it seems like she’s wandered into Berlin circa 1945 instead. Is this the scene of a typically violent Dick Tracy storyline’s denoument? Is America’s greatest lawman just leaving ruined buildings in his crime-solving wake?

Mark Trail, 7/17/13

“If isn’t them, I don’t care, though. Fuck otters I don’t know personally. I hope he makes them into hats.”

Heathcliff, 7/17/13

“Also, your ‘tires’ are perfectly two-dimensional circles, somehow resting on their infinitely thin edge. Why aren’t they slicing through the pavement as if it were butter?”

(That “birthday” in the title is my birthday, by the way. I am 39! Enjoy today’s post while I mourn my lost youth.)

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Herb and Jamaal, 7/12/13

Herb’s mother-in-law is a fallen angel, cast out of Heaven after she and her evil confederates attempted to rebel against the Almighty.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 7/12/13

The introduction of flatlander science into Hootin’ Holler could have radical implications for the lives of the community’s inhabitants, which is why Maddy’s boy will probably be burned at the stake by the end of the week.

Dick Tracy, 7/12/13

“I know cigarette smoke could really irritate a throat injury, Dick, so just say something if you don’t want me to light up. No? Nothing? I’ll just take your silence as permission!”

Blondie, 7/12/13

It’s kind of sad when your real name is more embarrassing than “Pastrami Guy.”

Mother Goose and Grimm, 7/12/13

Grimm would like to “take a personal day,” for sex.

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Hi and Lois, 7/3/13

Oh my goodness, look at Trixie’s facial expressions in this strip. Congrats, Hi and Lois, for not backing away from the full psychological horror of her sudden and entirely incorrect epiphany! “Oh God, those things … at the end of my feet … they’re alive. They’re alive. And they hunger. I’ve got to feed them! Eat, piggies!” She shoves her feet deeper into the moist, yielding paste in Dawg’s dinner bowl. “Eat!” She’s desperate that they find something to eat. Because she knows that if they don’t, they’ll start eating their way up her foot, and won’t stop until she is entirely consumed.

Heathcliff, 7/3/13

You ever see a cat playing with a toy — batting it around with her paws, swatting it up into the air, maybe holding onto it with her mouth while kicking at it with her feet — and suddenly realize that you’re watching what it looks like when a predator methodically batters its prey to death? Heathcliff and his dad are tossing a dead squirrel around, is what I’m saying.

Six Chix, 7/3/11

There is of course a long comedic history of slapstick violence being meted out to characters, and of anthropomorphic animals mixing the experiences of sentient beings and their real-world counterparts. How can you tell that you’ve pushed these tropes too far to be really successful? When you end up drawing a mangled corpse lying in a pool of human-looking blood and viscera, I would argue.

Dick Tracy, 7/3/11

Welp, I officially don’t understand what’s going on in this Dick Tracy storyline, but at least it’s still dishing out the quotables. “Dr. Sail made me an accessory to fraud! I’ll never get back to the moon!” Ha ha, that’s a tough spot that we can all relate to, amiright?

Speaking of things that are awful: Are you guys aware of FunkyWatch, from the indefatigable Chris Sims? Each month he selects and recaps the most depressing Crankshaft and Funky Winkerbean strips from the past 30 days. It’s always worth your time if you’re a Funkyverse obsessee, but this month was particularly grim, and FunkyWatch correspondingly hilarious. Go forth and read it!