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Apartment 3-G, 7/15/09

CONFUSING TIMES IN APARTMENT 3-G! It seems that Tim Mills, brother to Margo’s touch piece/maybe future fiance Eric Mills, is the American whom the Dalai Lama has trotted out in this Dharamsala press conference/dog-and-pony show. Last we saw of Eric, he was leading a younger lama to freedom over the Himalayas. Where is Eric now? Who is shouting “TIM” with three exclamation points of loudness off-panel? And, crucially, what is it that has blown Margo’s mind so completely and utterly? Surely it can’t be Tim’s rescue, or even his reunion with his wife, who is no doubt the “TIM!!!”-shouter, as those people are not Margo, nor people from whom Margo wants something. My guess is she has spotted some gorgeous trinkets on sale in a local market stall, which she intends to buy in bulk on her father’s credit card and resell back in New York at a healthy markup.

Spider-Man, 7/15/09

Meanwhile, Wolverine snuck backstage after Mary Jane’s terrible play to attempt to mack on her, then backed off as soon as Peter Parker showed up in his bad-ass leather jacket. Now, after some showy poor-lonely-me-ing, it appears he’s at least going to get a three-way out of it; his look of self-loathing in the final panel shows that he never really expected this maneuver to work, and now isn’t sure if he can go through with it. Was this how X-Men Origins: Wolverine went? Because I’m beginning to see why it didn’t meet ticket sales expectations.

Blondie, 7/15/09

Oh, Blondie, when you’ve been married to someone for 72 years or whatever, you no longer have to say ludicrous self-esteem-boosting things that neither you nor your partner believe to have a shred of a basis in reality, such as your proposal that Dagwood might have “a shot at being a V.P. some day.” Driving an car shaped like an enormous phallus and shilling for nitrate-lousy grade F meat is pretty much the apex of what dignity he’s capable of achieving, so why not let him run with his dream?

Family Circus, 7/15/09

Out of curiosity, legally speaking, what age is the boundary between “cute li’l tyke running around naked” and “pervert who can be arrested for indecent exposure”? Can we lower it to whatever age Jeffy is supposed to be, retroactively?

Marmaduke, 7/15/09

Oh, look, a “topical” reference to the water landing of US Airways flight 1549, a mere six months after the fact! Of course, no lives were lost in that miraculous incident; I doubt we’ll be able to say the same for the aftermath of Marmaduke’s splashdown into this pool full of delicious children.

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Ziggy, 7/13/09

There’s plenty to love about today’s Ziggy — the terrifying demon-clown that’s popped out of the suggestion box, for instance, or the fact that Ziggy appears to be suffering a massive coronary upon seeing it, or the nameless bureaucrat watching it all with pinched, sadistic glee. (I was about to refer to this individual as “Ziggy’s boss,” since I initially thought that this was some sort of office scene, but I don’t think that can be right; Ziggy has never really been depicted as holding down any sort of job, which makes sense, as he appears to be pretty much unemployable.)

One thing I don’t like about this panel, though, is that we’re confronted with the bottom of Ziggy’s feet. Now, obviously the less time spent thinking about what goes on below Ziggy’s waist the better, but I think we’re all pretty much in agreement on the fact that he regularly goes about pantsless and, apparently, shoeless. The absence of discernible toes puts something of a dent in that theory, but one could always write that off due to the low level of detail in the strip; but the shading work on the soles of Ziggy’s feet today force us to contemplate what exactly the hell it is we’re looking at. My best guess is that what we call “feet” are actually enormous, uncloven hooves, making Ziggy some kind of bipedal semi-centaur. Ha ha, and you thought that Ziggy’s biology couldn’t get any more disturbing than your existing conception of it! On the bright side, though, the feet/hooves are large enough that we don’t get a good view up Ziggy’s smock, which is a blessing.

Family Circus, 7/13/09

The best little part of this cartoon is the sly little smile on Dolly’s face. “Wow, Billy, before this moment I always thought that male supremacy was an immutable fact of nature; but now I know that it has to be reinforced daily with displays of authority great and small. This knowledge will come in handy in my quest to smash the patriarchy!”

Slylock Fox, 7/13/09

“Laughing potion” is a powerful toxin that gets its name for its effects on the victim’s musculature. First the muscles of the face involuntarily contract, spreading the mouth into a ghastly parody of a grin; then the diaphragm spasms uncontrollably, causing a series of short, laugh-like bursts of air before total paralysis and suffocation set in. Slylock will determine which glass contains the potion by giving Max a sip from each one until he drops dead.

Pluggers, 7/13/09

It takes all the wiles of the pharmaceutical industry just to keep pluggers alive.

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Zits, 7/8/09

True story: I got braces at the age of twelve, and for the first few days the experience was so painful and disorienting that I couldn’t really eat anything more solid than well-boiled pasta. This is almost certainly typical, but nobody had really warned me about it in advance, so it sort of freaked me out, and I began to worry that I’d be spending the next two years eating things that didn’t require much chewing; thus, before my mother returned from work one evening, I staged my suicide in protest. It wasn’t a particularly elaborate simulation — a florid “Good bye, cruel world that I can no longer masticate properly” note and me sprawled dramatically on the couch — and my mom’s first reaction was laughter, which means either it was wholly unconvincing or other things I don’t care to think about.

Anyway, this is my way of saying that I may be biased here, but I don’t think Dennis is telling some hilarious anecdote in panel one. The way he’s pointing at his metal-caged mouth is particularly troubling to me, and I imagine he’s actually saying “I think you made it too tight! Oh, God, the pain is unbearable!” But, accustomed to having his feelings on the matter ignored, he just slouches off with a resigned “schormz,” knowing that the discomfort will subside just in time for his next appointment, when the cycle begins again.

Family Circus, 7/8/09

Wait, a vegetarian … and all that shaggy hair … my God, have the Keanes allowed a dirty hippie into their home? The animal cracker bit may indicate that his mind has been reduced to pudding by the demon reefer, but more likely he’s just making a joke (which is also entirely unacceptable in polite company, because it confuses the children). I also suspect that if he heard Jeffy referring to him as “Mr. Coverly” he’d say “Hey, call me Jack, little guy! My dad is Mr. Coverly.” Anyway, why would our family of upstanding patriots allow this sort of person to sit in their living room and eat their generic potato chips? I suspect that he’s a new neighbor, and the clan patriarch is giving him one last chance to renounce his hateful philosophy and get a job that requires a tie; failing that, his long-haired head will be put on a spike on the Keane Kompound’s walls, as a warning to others.

Beetle Bailey, 7/8/09

I was going to make a crack about illegal use of a work-related credit card here, but on the scale of corrupt Defense Department spending, this is probably as low as it gets, even if Beetle and Miss Buxley are eating at an establishment that makes waiters wear tuxedos to serve soup. Anyway, I’m guessing she’s paying because she thinks that this way he’ll have to put out. Good luck with that, sweetie!