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Slylock Fox, 3/1/09 (portion) and 3/2/09

First off, an apology: while scanning Sunday’s strips for entertainment value, I somehow managed to completely miss an appearance by my hero, Reeky Rat, in which he is actually innocent of the crime of which he is accused! He’s still guilty of wearing a hideous yellow sweater that in no way lives up to his awesome fashion potential, and of befouling the snow-covered dirt patch in front of his trailer, but if the plot on which a man has parked his trailer (the rent on which is less than sixty days overdue) is not his castle, where he can dress and litter as he pleases, then what rights remain to us in this country? Reeky’s small-type, upside-down exoneration may be a first for the Slylock Fox rogues gallery, and presumably this is all the excuse Slylock needs to stop going to down to the trailer park altogether and just let its denizens dish out brutal justice to one another with their crude homemade weaponry.

That should clear up lots of time in his schedule for episodes like today’s, in which our detective heads over to the gym to creepily stare at the patrons and employees in their little short shorts. What, do you work for the FDA now, Fox? I’m sure Buford can produce some kind of corporate-sponsored study proving that regular bowel movements are an important part of any muscle-building regimen.

Archie, 3/2/09

The main joke in today’s Archie indicates nothing more than that the AJGLU 3000’s anti-lawsuit module has been given far too much priority over its other humor functions (THEY’RE TALKING ABOUT LUCKY CHARMS® BRAND CEREAL FROM GENERAL MILLS I ALONE DARE SAY THIS), but I am amused by Archie’s father’s mug, which reads “#2 DAD.” It’s possible that our charming joke-generating machine, in its cold mechanical logic, doesn’t see why 2 would be much inferior to 1 on a scale of 0 to infinity and means this as a compliment, but I prefer to believe that it has finally learned the importance of poop jokes.

A more sobering revelation comes on the milk carton in the second panel, which tells us that Jughead has been kidnapped, possibly after having been lured into a creepy van by a trail of hamburgers.

Family Circus, 3/2/09

“I mean it, our children are lazy little turds, lying there on the floor sullenly mashing mass-manufactured pieces of plastic crap together for hours on end. Just the very sight of them sickens me. I sincerely hope you bought the toys that are known choking hazards, like I asked you to.”

Dick Tracy, 3/2/09

“The oil companies will make him a rich man … for keeping his mouth shut, after they bury that formula in a very, very deep hole.”

Marmaduke, 3/2/09

“I don’t mind too much, though, because this way I can’t really feel the pooling urine.”

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Marvin, 2/28/09

If you had told me, way back in July of 2004 when I was starting this blog, that there would come a time when I would feel obligated to parse drawings of toddlers running around completely pantsless, I would have have immediately shut down my crude Blogger.com account and turned to a more worthwhile and ennobling pursuit, like philately or house-flipping. And if you had told me yesterday that there could be something more terrifying than seeing Marvin’s genitals, I would have laughed at you, and yet here is the proof: more terrifying than seeing Marvin’s genitals is not seeing Marvin’s genitals where his genitals are supposed to be, and glimpsing only some kind of unbroken, Ken doll-like smoothness instead. Now let us never speak of this again.

Mark Trail, 2/28/09

Oh, everyone who feared that Ken would not receive his narrative comeuppance for slapping around his wife and then trying to kill her beloved pet: Ken is very much about to receive his narrative comeuppance. A frightened, dangerous Bucky is about to literally run headlong into the economically ravaged abuser, with his antlers conveniently sawed to razor sharpness by Mark. I’ve long felt that what this strip really needs to compete in today’s entertainment market is more humans being killed or mutilated by the animals they’ve wronged, so I’m really looking forward to next week.

Dick Tracy, 2/28/09

Speaking of people being killed or mutilated, Dick Tracy once again proves that all’s well that end’s well horribly. Tess’s face in the second panel offers particular insight into what her marriage must be like. “Oh, God, he’s going to make a pun about Angelorious’s agonizing death, isn’t he? Wait for it … yep, there it is.”

Marmaduke, 2/28/09

“As well he should, since the Dread Lords of the Outer Darkness have appointed him Demon-King to rule over Earth. Oh … oh God DON’T LOOK DIRECTLY AT HIM!”

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Mark Trail, 2/25/09

So the whole Lost Forest patriarchy is trying to convince Patty to forget about her special deer friend and learn to love life with her poor, innocent, economically stressed, angry, abusive husband, but she will persevere! No matter how long she has to wander through the forest, searching, always searching … OH NO! THAT’S BUCKY! And he’s … just sort of chilling in a clearing … gently nudging horns with some other deer … and this is OH NO! worthy because … ? Maybe rubbing antlers together is the deer equivalent of a gay makeout. And so, with her husband a slap-happy menace, and her be-antlered secret boyfriend secretly preferring the company of other be-antlered deer, I think it’s clear that Patty will finally go completely over the edge, which should provide us with an exciting new world of terrifying, inhuman facial expressions.

Mary Worth, 2/25/09

Wait … they met on a Santa Royale fan club site? Jesus, I knew the Internet was full of the worst kind of filth, but even I couldn’t imagine that anyone would provide Web hosting space for that kind of depravity at any price. I sincerely hope that these boards are carefully monitored by FBI agents who will capture these perverts and send them to dark, dank holes where they can never again bother decent people.

Dick Tracy, 2/25/09

Today’s Dick Tracy, like yesterday’s, really opens more questions than it answers. If your eyes are melting down your cheeks after you’ve had acid thrown in your face, do you magically gain the power to see behind you as some sort of compensation? Has any human anywhere ever said “The weather is closing in” and expected anyone else to know what it meant? I had a third question ready — will the two cars in the final panel collide, causing the painful mangling of flesh and bones? — but then I realized that, hey, this is Dick Tracy, I know the answer to that one.

Blondie, 2/25/09

Look, Dagwood, if you want to live out some kind of cuckolding fantasy, you’re going to have to just come out and say it.