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Slylock Fox, 1/22/07

This little scene immediately brought to mind a quote I’ve always liked, from A.W. Brian Simpson’s Cannibalism and the Common Law:

Leading cases are the very stuff of which the common law is made, and no leading case in the common law is better known than that of Regina v. Dudley and Stephens. It was decided in 1884 by a court in the Royal Courts of Justice in London. In it, two profoundly respectable seamen, Captain Tom Dudley and Mate Edwin Stephens, lately of the yacht Mignonette, were sentenced to death for the murder of their shipmate, Ordinary Seaman Richard Parker, after a bench of five judges had ruled that one must not kill one’s shipmates in order to eat them, however hungry one might be.

Fortunately for Slylock, who’s grinning a grin here that’s a little too sly, as a non-human animal his conduct is governed not by the common law, but by the Law of Nature. Max will make a tasty little snack to take the edge off until the raft washes up on the west coast of New Zealand, where our vulpine detective will use his powers of elementary deduction to solve long-running land disputes between the government and the Maori before dining on the native fauna, which is completely unadapted to mid-sized predators.

Also beyond the Queen’s justice in this vignette is that crafty bottle-stealing octopus. I will say again that Slylock Fox has some of the best incidental details of any strip out there.

Dick Tracy, 1/22/07

So the Tracys seem to think that kicking a little cash at some Alzheimer’s researchers will somehow atone for the monstrous crime of erasing a man’s mind. Note, however, the “Inc.” in the address. That’s no high-minded government research lab, it’s a for-profit pharmaceutical firm — probably a shell company in which GlaxoSmithKline owns a controlling interest. Dick and Tess will no doubt be seeing a generous return from that generous thing she did.

Elsewhere, some dude plans to break into a jewelry store with a crowbar, in a totally interesting criminal act that will surely demand the attention of the world’s greatest, most techno-enabled detective.

Family Circus and Dennis the Menace, 1/22/07

Jeffy’s blatant assault on his mother yesterday was apparently just the beginning; today, she must bribe him with food to stave off another barrage, a strategy that will last only until his little tummy is filled up. Meanwhile, the snowball offensive has spread to Dennis the Menace as well. Mrs. Wilson looks fairly shocked by Dennis’ naked aggression; no doubt years of sub-par menacing have lulled her into complacency.

If all the children in the comics pages rose up senselessly and violently against the adults, like the birds in The Birds, I for one would be a happy guy. I’m sure Elmo has a lot of aggression he needs to work out against Dagwood.

Apartment 3-G, 1/22/07

Lu Ann needs to make nice with her ghost, so she’s brought in … her incredible psychic microwave! Good lord, she’s even dumber than I thought.

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Beetle Bailey, 1/17/07

Wow, so I bet you never thought that the latest chapter of Beetle Bailey’s ongoing storyline about Beetle’s failure to bust a move on Miss Buxley would take a turn for the regulations-breaking same-sex affectionate. Anyone who reads this strip regularly has seen this coming for years, of course; I’m more surprised that Miss Buxley, who works on a military base and spends most of her time with earthy military types, is so shocked by cussing that she opens her eyes wide enough for us to see the irises for the first time, like, ever.

Garfield, 1/17/07

Now, look here: one of the defining features — some might say the defining feature — of Garfield is his compulsive eating problem; longtime Garfield readers know that if the fat cat ever did get his paws on a couple of chocolate chip cookies, his primary mission would be to cram them down his gullet with a minimum of chewing, not to festoon some whimsical snow sculpture with them. Well, if they had to violate a fundamental, long-established character trait, at least they did it in the service of a really great joke … oh, wait.

Dick Tracy, 1/17/07

A lot of you have marveled at Detective Tracy’s ability to get a hold of all of the United States’ intelligence agencies at once on his cell phone; I’m more concerned about his obvious joy in giving some terrifying Big Brother-esque mind-reading (and mind-erasing) device to every spook in town. Look for a wave of laws out of Congress setting mandatory sentences for thoughtcrimes. Thankfully, I have my tinfoil hat to protect me.

Hi and Lois, 1/17/07

Good God, but panel two is disturbing. I guess the cane is supposed to indicate that this freakish, gigantic baby-headed thing is an old lady rather than some kind of circus sideshow attraction, but it doesn’t really help.

Incidentally, I too would be upset if a sunbeam urinated on my carpet. And in panel one, it looks like Trixie’s doing some open-mouthed thought-ballooning. It’s almost as bad as a cat trying amplify the volume of its thoughts.

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Slylock Fox, 1/15/07

This has to count as one of the most frankly sexual newspaper comics I’ve ever seen. I neither expect nor at any level want to see red-hot mouse-on-mouse action in Slylock Fox, but in a medium that tippy-toes around the love life of three healthy single women in Manhattan and goes to excruciatingly unrealistic lengths to protect Elizabeth Patterson’s virtue, the matter-of-fact presentation of Max “visiting” Melody in the middle of the night — and of the two of them obviously being woken up by Slylock’s frenzied late-night call — is kind of shocking.

This sidekick business is clearly no cakewalk; clearly, Max must be forced to carry a beeper around with him, or to give his vulpine boss the phone number of all his lady friends’ houses. Either that, or he’s only cultivated his relationship with Melody because he knows she lives across the street from a fence. As soon as the stolen goods are recovered, Max is moving on, leaving a tiny broken heart in his wake.

For Better Or For Worse, 1/15/07

In my policy of trying to find the bright side of everything, I’m really enjoying Liz’s verbal humiliation at the hands of her Mtigwakian supposed friends. As I’ve noted earlier, the Noble Natives of the North may have been intended as a heavy-handed bit of ethnography, but they have ended up being the only people in Foobonia allowed to frankly call Liz on her crap. Not that I endorse the overarching “stick with your own kind” message here, but wrapping up “Girl, she stole your man! Snap!” in some kind of mystical “spirit journey” hokum is pretty hilarious to me.

I think we all know that Liz doesn’t have to worry about guidance. Her journey is like a cruise missile, zeroing in on The Mustache at an unstoppable rate.

Antifoobitarianism is spreading to the Webocmic world, by the way. Check out these recent offerings from Crap I Drew On My Lunch Break and Shortpacked!

Dick Tracy, 1/15/07

Boy, Dick Tracy is getting soft. Dick actually looks kind of concerned that he may have accidentally destroyed a man’s mind while engaging in pointless plot-stalling exposition. It takes mustachioed industrialist Diet Smith to supply the appropriate level of callousness. “Now, Tracy, this man is my employee, and when he signed his contract, he waived his right to sue or press charges over accidental brain erasure. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the empty shell of his body is disposed of with some degree of dignity.”

The phrase “he spilled his thought beans” makes me uncomfortable on a number of levels.

Mary Worth, 12/15/07

Not only is Mary Worth honest-to-God going to Vietnam, but she’s managed to go from decision to airborne in less than a week. Meanwhile, she’s still having disturbing dreams. I’m guessing that “Hanoi … Peace Village” has something to do with this, but it’d be so much cooler if it were actually the site of the Communist mind-control lab where Mary was brainwashed forty years ago. It’d play out like The Manchurian Candidate, with Mary playing the part of both Frank Sinatra and Angela Lansbury.

At first I was jealous that Mary was flying in some kind of magical airplane with wide, comfortable seats and several inches of elbow room between neighbors, but then I realized where that extra space came from: there doesn’t appear to be any aisle. Presumably once the plane reaches Vietnamese airspace, the bottom of the plane will open up and the passengers will be dropped onto their destination.