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Gil Thorp, 11/3/12

Boring as the current Gil Thorp storyline has been, it at least has kept me guessing. Mostly those guesses have been along the lines of “OK, now it’s going to be about something other than Terry Gallagher becoming a manufactured Milford celebrity more or less on the whims of two other ill-defined random dudes, right? How about … now? Or, now? Nope, still about that, huh.” But also I’m confused as to how the plot’s going to end, though I think today’s strip seems to set things up for the traditional narrative of hubris followed by destruction. How else are we to interpret the final panel of today’s strip, in which Terry is paraded about the stadium like a Celtic God in the back of a chariot, one of his women at his side (oh, he’s making out with multiple girls, FYI), receiving the fist-pumping adulation of thousands? Oh, it’s going to turn ugly for Terry Gallagher. Ugly indeed. (Just kidding, probably he’s going to just get yelled at by his makeout partners and Milford won’t make the playdowns and he’ll smile and say something wry.)

Dick Tracy, 11/3/12

Dick Tracy has been lighter on the graphic, brutal violence since the reboot, but it still has its high points! I like the fact that the little arrow-box, a classic Dick Tracy device, is being used to make sure you realize that yes, that ash-like material Sparkle Plenty scooped out from under the flames in the stove is in fact hot ash, and that right now Measles’ already scarred flesh is being horribly burned. We’ve actually seen Gertie sneaking up on him with an ax for the last couple days, so at least the exact form of horrible pain Measles is suffering has come as surprise!

Archie, 11/3/12

Ha ha, that Mr. Lodge sure does get mad at Archie! Who knows whether it’s because he’s poor or he’s ginger or he wants to touch Veronica’s lady parts or he’s just kind of a jackass, but whatever the case, we now know that Mr. Lodge thinks of Archie as a mere object, a subhuman “it,” to be destroyed without a second thought when the time is right. Enjoy your next visit to stately Lodge Manor, Archie! It will be your last.

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Spider-Man, 10/18/12

So Kraven the Hunter has been out of prison long enough to get his own Vegas show, but the Daily Bugle is only now getting wind of it? Maybe they aren’t the hard-charging journalistic enterprise I’d always imagined. I guess it’s telling that Robbie is reading this information from a dispatch still hot from the fax machine.

What do you suppose is going on with everyone’s relative head sizes in the second panel, by the way? Is this just a cinematic way to show that Peter is dwelling on this conversation hours later, hearing JJJ say “they pardoned him?” in his head, over and over, as he smacks his forehead in exasperation at America’s failing justice system? (No, actually, the correct answer is “clip art.”)

Dick Tracy, 10/18/12

Famous model Sparkle Plenty is the daughter of B.O. Plenty and Gravel Gertie, which means that she’s the full sister of whatever horrifying baby-creature sent these medicos fleeing in terror. Got all the good genes, I guess! Anyway, this diseased ne’er-do-well she just met appears to be attempting to sell her drugs. Is this how famous people obtain drugs? I don’t think this is how famous people obtain drugs.

Momma, 10/18/12

So, is Momma a terrible hypochondriac, or is she a desperate pill-head who will say anything to get a fix? Which possibility is funnier? Which is sadder? Is your answer to both questions the same? Discuss.

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Apartment 3-G, 8/25/12

Dude, loosen the grip: Margo isn’t leaving, you are. Or maybe not! Ever the professional, Margo tells Cooper, “I will gladly break a prior commitment to avoid spending any more time with you than absolutely necessary. But no need for thanks — that’s just the kind of service my clients have come to expect from me, even though it’s my first day in this business!”

Dick Tracy, 8/25/12

You know, I don’t think I’d eat at a sushi joint at the back of an aquarium, especially if it had really low prices. But of course Phishface is a cannibal, not an epicure: he dines to assimilate the strength of vanquished foes, so taste and freshness aren’t deal-breakers. This adventure can end only in the gruesome hook-related death of Phishface, or a grand feast of bland, stale toreshimaki.

Also, whales are fish. Told you so.

Beetle Bailey, 8/25/12

Oh, look — more golf crap!

The Lockhorns, 8/25/12

You know, for somebody who routinely gets rowdy drunk, monopolizes the hottest chicks, and picks fights, Leroy Lockhorn still gets invited to a lot of parties.

— Uncle Lumpy