Archive: Family Circus

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Mary Worth, 1/8/10

I’m pretty sure that panel two of today’s Mary Worth is what happens when you have MC Escher draw your family reunion. Note that Kurt and Wilbur are ostensibly sitting on the same piece of furniture, but Kurt’s waist is somehow level with Wilbur’s knees. That may have something do with the fact that Kurt is turned 90 degrees towards Wilbur, but his legs are still magically able to bend! Meanwhile, Dawn appears to be drawing away from Wilbur and her probably-not-actually-half-brother in disgust, tucking her right arm awkwardly behind her back so that Wilbur can’t touch it, and somehow moving closer to the viewer than the actual length of the couch would seem to allow. Just as Kurt has disrupted the Westons’ lives with his story about his illicit parentage, so too has his presence disrupted the actual fabric of time and space in their condo unit.

Also, I like their plan of finally setting some time aside to get to know each other better next week! It should make the next few days of sitting around the house awkwardly super-fun.

Apartment 3-G, 1/8/10

Wow, it looks like dating a foul-mouthed married pill addict isn’t a bed of roses — who could have guessed? I’d have more sympathy for the outrage being perpetrated against Ari’s professionalism if not for the fact that he actually appears to be not so much “with a client” as “wandering around the foyer of his office while his client presumably drones on and on about his emotional problems in the next room, seriously, that guy never shuts up, he probably won’t notice if I take a break for a few minutes.” Also weighing against Ari’s right to be self-righteous: the fact that he prescribed sleeping pills to one of his clients almost immediately upon meeting her, then started sleeping with her. What I’m trying to say is that Ari can, in fact, go to @#*%!!

Family Circus, 1/8/10

My favorite thing about today’s Family Circus is the look of disappointment on Big Daddy Keane’s face. It’s like he always had dreams of having kids so he could read stories to them, only discover that actual children ruin everything by thinking for themselves and being bored and irritated by the things you like. At least Dolly is staying engaged enough to know what’s happening in the story, even if she’s going to pick it to bits with her dumb questions; PJ looks as if he’s fantasizing that something more interesting is happening — that’s he watching television, or instance, or staring at the wall.

Garfield, 1/8/10

Ha ha! Garfield and Odie are voyeuristic perverts!

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Family Circus, 12/22/09

So why is Grandma smiling? It’s certainly not because Jeffy has opened his mouth and proven, once again, that he doesn’t have the brains God gave a bowling ball; she probably isn’t even marveling at the wonderful advantages that modern capitalism has over the primitive ointment- and precious-metal-based economic systems prevalent in Biblical times. No, I think she’s cracking a little grin because the drugs are finally kicking in. How else do you explain the fact that Jeffy is significantly tinier than PJ, a miniscule Jeffy-homunculus perched in the crook of her arm? He’s probably spouting his idiocy in a squeaky, comical little voice! “Soon,” she thinks, “he’ll be so little that I can just ignore him altogether!”

Mary Worth, 12/22/09

As noted yesterday, the drugs kicked in long ago in Mary Worth. I’m not sure where those hands on Dr. Jeff’s chest are coming from in panel one, but they certainly aren’t attached to Adrian’s arms — at least, they wouldn’t be in the three-dimensionally Euclidean space with which I’m familiar. But in Dr. Jeff’s hash-hazed mind, Adrian’s left shoulder can be behind him but her left hand in front of him. Why not? Time, space, location — all illusions, man! His expression in panel two is that of someone who’s going to describe this new world-theory to you in earnest and incoherent detail for about twenty or thirty seconds before wandering off to go lie down on something.

Mark Trail, 12/22/09

Oh, look, it’s Mark Trail, backwoods hypocrite. Normally he’s all “Those sideburns are the only search warrant I need” and “My fists may be cruel, but they’re not unusual.” But now that he’s the one thrown in jail, all he can talk about is “Wah wah wah rights of the accused wah wah wah” like a little liberal baby. You’re lucky this comical country lawman is so scrupulous about Constitutional provisions for due process, Mark — which you’re no doubt going to exploit, like the nature-terrorist you are.

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Mary Worth, 12/6/09

Every once in a while an installment of one of the soap strips comes along that in my mind wholly justifies the lavish attention I expend upon them. Just the throwaway panel dialogue here would be enough to make this strip an instant classic; “Now on to explore new worlds … in online social networking!” should be the mission statement of some terribly misguided Web consultancy that shows businesses how to set up Twitter accounts that they don’t need. And yet this is just the opening gambit. We feel that we are right there with Wilbur as he makes his perilous roller-coaster ride of Facebook insanity. First, he clenches his stubby fingers into unaccustomed shapes as he prepares for a vigorous social-networking session. Then, upon receiving this mysterious missive, he’s so in awe of it that he reaches his fingertips half-consciously towards the screen, as if he could feel the human connections being created by intangible electrons. Next, he becomes pensive, then slips into anxiety as he contemplates the implication of this anonymous message. (“Someone” warned you about these social networks, Wilbur? I think we all know who among your acquaintances spreads fear about all things newfangled and enjoyable. It’s OK, you can name her, in the safety of your thought balloons!) Then his face brightens a little. Maybe something interesting will be crawling out of the woodwork!

But in the final panel, we tumble headlong into madness. The existence of Dawn has forced us all to acknowledge, at least to ourselves, that Wilbur has had sex at least once. But now we are confronted with the possibility of Wilbur’s wild, swinging past, and while it may enrage and disgust us, I for one plan to get over my initial hesitation and embrace the lunacy. I dearly hope we are treated to flashbacks to Wilbur’s unprotected sexcapades, possibly involving him wearing a leisure suit and having as many as a dozen hairs to comb over his bald spot.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/6/09

Well, now that Becka’s runaway oldster adventure has ended incredibly awkwardly, it looks like it’s time for Rex and June to reclaim their comic strip! It appears that their house has been trashed by squatters, which makes sense as they’ve been away for, what, a year and a half now? It would be fun drama if Rex’s beloved ward Nikki were responsible, having turned Chez Morgan into a party pad for his low-life friends (or, worse, his low-life mother), but it’s also possible that Abbey, having been left alone with no one delegated to take her on walks, was the culprit.

This strip offers further confirmation that all cab drivers in Rex Morgan, M.D., are required to wear ludicrously exaggerated ethnic headgear.

Family Circus, 12/6/09

There might be something among this world’s possibilities more horrifying than three smirking Keane Kids thrusting their no doubt filthy feet at you expectantly, but I’d be hard pressed to name it.