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Gil Thorp, 7/23/09

There’s a song that’s traditionally sung at the Passover seder called “Dayenu,” a Hebrew word that means, roughly, “It would have been enough.” The thrust of the song is that, during the whole fleeing-from-Egypt thing captured so memorably on film by Cecil B. DeMille and Charlton Heston, God did any number of classy things for the ancient Israelites (smiting the Egyptians, parting the Red Sea, establishing a law code in easy-to-carry stone tablet form, etc.), of which any one would have been plenty good for most people; after each verse, in which one of said divine acts is described, everyone shouts “Dayenu!”

Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that we may never get to the promised land of classic Gil Thorp summer wackiness (and the so-far snoresville B-plot about hobo Ted Pearse and the Uninterested News Bears doesn’t raise my hopes), but no matter how it turns out, we’ll always have today’s glimpse into Coach Kaz’s Pier-1-Orientalism-ariffic living room to remember fondly. Is the man some sort of secret martial arts master, running his own dojo out of whatever shabby one-bedroom apartment he can afford on an assistant high school coach’s salary? Or does he just really like having a bunch of random Asian crap scattered around his love pad? You know, when I first saw that hanging gong thing, I thought for a minute that it was a framed record album, and that his rap-metal single “Playdowns (Next Year For Sure)” had finally gone platinum, which, you have to admit, makes exactly as much sense as whatever’s going on here.

Not to be neglected in the midst of Coack Kaz’s unsettling decor are his unsettlingly ripped shoulder muscles. Fortunately, Kaz knows that ordinary humans would be intimidated and terrified by his rockin’ body if they saw it without being adequately prepared, so in panel two he’s thrown on a Hawaiian shirt that covers up the guns and illustrates how fun and relaxed he is.

Dick Tracy, 7/23/09

Despite being quintessentially American in subject matter and politics, Dick Tracy is always on the verge of becoming some kind of Weimar-era expressionist film in tone and presentation, and the current plotline, in which Tracy’s daughter Bonnie Braids (really!) insists on taking her parents to the circus, is no exception; one assumes that “Here’s where the clown fires into the air and a surprise falls out of the sky” sounded less stilted in the original German. And anyone who finds clowns even slightly unsettling will be seeing panel two, in which a grim-faced, dead-eyed specimen cocks his gaily painted musket at the ready, in their dreams for weeks to come.

Mark Trail, 7/23/09

The orange-clad Mark Trail assassin in the current storyline may not be the brightest guy in the world, but I have to say that I like his style. There’s something that might tip off the cops to his identity? YOU BETTER BELIEVE HE’S GONNA SET THAT SHIT ON FIRE! I can’t wait to see what he does when he realizes he left a witness to his latest crime alive; we’ll see if Mark’s extremely wooden speech style means that he’s actually made of wood, and thus particularly flammable.

Family Circus, 7/23/09

And with that, the printed material allowed inside the Keane Kompound was further limited; now only the Bible and issues of Reader’s Digest published before 1989 would be permitted.

UPDATE: Oh my goodness, I almost forgot to add: BID ON this Ziggy cake pan on eBay! It appears that any cake made in this pan will more closely resemble E.T. than Ziggy, but whatever. ONLY FOUR HOURS LEFT!

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Dick Tracy, 5/26/09

Dick Tracy may be a thug whose joy in enforcing the rights of the powerful are matched only by his delight in the anguished screams of his dying enemies, but you have to admit that, as panel one indicates, he has a pretty philosophical attitude about death, presumably because he’s seen so damn much of it. “Yeah, go ahead, ludicrously dressed card-themed villain, put a bullet in my head. What other kind of fate could possibly be awaiting me? At least I’ll be released from this world of suffering, where you’re either enduring pain or dishing it out. I’m just going to stare grimly ahead at you, not even giving you the pleasure of seeing my eyes opened widely; I reserve that for truly remarkable events, like, say, if I’m miraculously saved by you getting shot in the spine and presumably paralyzed for life.”

Dennis the Menace, 5/26/09

Is it really “menacing” if Dennis is doing what many would like to do, yet dare not, due to social conventions — berating people shouting into their cellphones inappropriately in public, for instance? Perhaps not, in and of itself. But look at the flummoxed, vaguely guilty expression on this fellow’s face. He’s already eating dinner out by himself; now his one attempt at human interaction has been stymied, and everyone else in the restaurant is staring at him, increasing his self-consciousness. Presumably he’ll hang up the phone, quickly wolf down his food, and leave in embarrassment, going home to his lonely, empty apartment to cry. Perhaps this is an act of true menacing — or perhaps Dennis is menacing us by showing us the real human consequences of our hidden desires.

Shoe, 5/26/09

Ha ha, it’s funny because shitting something something the economy!

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Family Circus, 5/25/09

As several faithful readers have pointed out, this epic two-week “The Family Circus family sells off their household belongings in order to feed their litter of children” plot is a rerun from decades past, though I hadn’t seen it before. I’m pretty sure I’d have remembered it if I had, because I’m pretty sure this is the first time that I’ve seen some sexy interloper put the Keane’s rock-solid and extremely fecund marriage in jeopardy. I’d make some crack about “pole dancing,” but this blonde bombshell looks less like a stripper and more like some kind of pretty princess doll magically brought to life, which to my mind is much, much creepier.

Dick Tracy, 5/25/09

You know what separates Dick Tracy from your run-of-the-mill out-of-control cop who operates above the law and kills perps, suspected perps, and those standing in close proximity to suspected perps with impunity? It’s his philosophical turn of mind. For instance, if someone had asked me what did in the Queen of Diamonds, I’d have said that it was some combination of suffocation and massive third-degree burns all over her body after she fell into a smokestack. But Tracy is never satisfied with proximate causes, and is always looking for the deeper origins of events. I suppose that’s what makes him such a great detective — that and his propensity for violence and lack of a shred of human empathy.

By the way, I offer half-hearted kudos for linking that Queen of Diamonds plot to the current One-Eyed Jack storyline. I’m relieved to learn that, though the tendency for criminals to run around dressed as playing cards is rampant in the Dick Tracy universe, it appears to be limited to a single family.

Spider-Man, 5/25/09

I knew that the recent Wolverine flick didn’t perform at the box office as well as had been hoped, but does he really merit banishment to the Spider-Man newspaper strip? That seems like an extreme punishment.

Apartment 3-G, 5/25/09

“Wait, you want me to help you make a decision? Gary, don’t you know who I am? I’m Tommie Thompson! I don’t decide things; I just let events happen to me, then I whine about it. Here, I’m going to close my eyes until you’ve decided whether to move to Denver or not. Then I’m going to sigh endlessly.”