Archive: Dick Tracy

Post Content

Dennis the Menace, 3/7/11

Fart joke + slur on treasured American brand = Menace Level 4.7. Points off for the grin.

Mark Trail, 3/7/11

Mark realizes he will soon be shipwrecked with a boatload of arms smugglers! At that precise moment, a beloved animal friend appears as if to remind him that it’s turtles all the way down. That must have been some bump on the head.

Note to comic strip characters: whether you are a man or a woman, it is OK to be named Lonnie. Do not, however, stand next to anybody named Lonnie, whether on the street or at the altar.

Dick Tracy, 3/7/11

Ah, the deaths of Dick Tracy villains. Torched in a wind generator fire. Killed in a fall from the U.S. Capitol Rotunda. Brain wiped clean. Killed in a fall down a smokestack. Blown to bits. Crushed under a bulldozer. Dismembered by a pack of dogs. Immolated in a car fire. Pancaked by a falling antique warplane. And now, eaten alive by rats. Say it with me: Eaten. Alive. By. Rats.

Next Sunday, the Dick Tracy franchise will pass to a new creative team. So Mr. Brozman, thank you for the wonderful rats. And sincere congratulations on your retirement, Mr. Locher — for the five years this blog has followed you through thick and thin, you have never disappointed, not once.

Momma, 3/7/11

What passes for pride in the Mommaverse.

Luann, 3/7/11

Tiffany counts on her fingers how many minutes it will take her to “date” the rest of the football team.

— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Lockhorns, 3/1/11

Wow, if you had asked me, “Which comics couple has a whole secret life in which they run pharming parties and ingest massive amounts of bootleg prescription drugs?”, the Lockhorns would not have been my answer. (Connie and Walt from Zits would have been my number one choice, for the record.) I’m pretty sure this is the first Lockhorns panel I’ve seen where both halves of the titular hell-couple are smiling at the same time, even though Leroy’s got the squiggly-smile that is this comic’s shorthand for intoxication of one sort or another. I’m not sure who the anonymous foreground lady is supposed to be, but Loretta is clearly very excited about introducing her to the mind-altering bounty in that box of wonderful pharmaceutical treats from our neighbors to the north.

Mary Worth, 3/1/11

“Let me tell you something, Wilbur. Your daughter’s lived with you her whole life, so I have to imagine that she’s been forced to watch what I just saw — you inhaling a hamburger right out of your hands, barely pausing to chew — over and over again. So you can’t blame her for developing defensive strategies. I sure wish I had been facing a computer screen instead of facing you when that happened. I kind of wish there were a computer screen between the two of us right now, or maybe just a thick concrete or metal barrier of some kind.”

Wizard of Id, 3/1/11

Aw, isn’t that nice! Remember, whether you’re a prisoner of your job and the low social status associated with it, or just an actual, literal prisoner, you can still escape your bonds and drudgery with the power of your imagination. In this case, the imaginary journey involves macking on sexy ladies, I guess? Seriously, I have no idea what the hell is supposed to be going on here.

Dick Tracy, 3/1/11

The reason we put up with month after month of aimless insanity in Dick Tracy is that, eventually, any given plot will suddenly resolve itself into a brief episode of visceral, nightmarish horror, which remains incomprehensible on any kind of intellectual level but will still be seared into your consciousness, forever. Anyway, as today’s strip features a mass murderer in a gimp mask squirming in terror at the arrival of hundreds of bloodthirsty rats, I think it’s safe to say that this stage of the narrative has arrived.

Post Content

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 2/27/11

“Yep, you sure won, Gran, what with your obvious terror of your imminent demise! Look at ’er weeping bitter, bitter tears!”

Panel from Dick Tracy, 2/27/11

“That’s right, citizen! The way to soothe anxiety is to blend in with the crowd! Conform! Conform! Dick Tracy and the thoughtcrimestoppers textbook demand it!”