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Family Circus, 10/8/09

If you’re like me (which is to say the sort of person who Thinks Too Much About Things, and is a little OCD), your first response upon seeing the numbers in today’s Family Circus was to whip out the old calculator, Billy-style, and see what kind of timeframe we’re talking about. 4,206 days is 11 years and 191 days! And one of the reasons I was curious about this figure is that I’m never entirely clear on how old any of the Keane Kids are supposed to be. It’s hard to tell, given their gnomish stature and obvious cognitive deficits, but, assuming that kids are still getting their license at 16 like they traditionally have, today’s numbers put Billy at four and a half years old, which struck me as wildly off, considering he’s supposed to be the oldest of four, and he and his little sister both go to school. Then I realized that there was a sure-fire way to determine Billy’s canonical age: the “drawn by Billy” panels, which, after a bit of searching through my archives, yielded up the crucial bit of data: Billy is 7, and so appears to be proclaiming that he won’t be getting his driver’s license until he’s 18 or maybe even 19! I feel bitter for him making me think about this as much as I have, but at least I get to point out that he either cheerfully expects to repeatedly fail his drivers test, or is incapable of doing math, even with a calculator.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 10/8/09

Speaking of things that irritate me all out of proportion to their actual transgressions, why does Barney Google and Snuffy Smith think we need a title card informing us that we’re going “shoppin’ wif th’ Tuttles”? Do they think that we’ll be dangerously disoriented by seeing the strip’s trademarked dialectical banter thrown about by a pair of risible hillbilly stereotypes who aren’t part of the strip’s core cast? Please, give us some credit. Most readers will see vaguely old-timey rustics crackin’ wise and droppin’ Gs from the ends of gerunds, smile wanly, and move on with their lives without troubling themselves to place the narrative in some larger context; Snuffy Smith devotees, meanwhile, will immediately recognize Hootin’ Holler’s sole pastor, and will be pleased to see that he remains a money-grubbing fraud.

Mary Worth, 10/8/09

Good lord, in the second panel, Dr. Jeff looks less like a father rushing to his daughter’s side to comfort her in her time of need and more like the leader of an angry vigilante mob, or perhaps like a majestic but enraged lowland gorilla. It’s almost as if he’s hoping that he’ll spot a heroin dealer or user on his drive to the hospital and have the opportunity run them down with his car. I was wondering why he was so worked up, but then remembered that Scott is, of course, the son of Dr. Jeff’s one true love. I can’t wait to see the bloody revenge he wreaks on Santa Royale’s comically dressed underworld!

Marvin, 10/8/09

Ah ha, I finally figured out what this week-long feces-plot is really getting at: it’s Marvin’s origin story! “And from that day on, the world knew him as … THE PANTS-SHITTER!”

Apartment 3-G, 10/8/09

Isn’t Margo’s dad supposed to be some rich businessman? Shouldn’t he be able to afford enough Just For Men to dye the hair on the sides of his head as well?

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Archie, 9/30/09

I’m all in favor of comically over-exaggerated gestures, and thus I approve of Reggie facepalming in reaction to Jughead’s cheerfully open Jason Blairing. Still, I’m a little concerned about the massive wind-up he took on it. Note the shockwaves radiating from the beleaguered egotist’s face; that’s going to bruise, I’m afraid.

Crock, 9/30/09

Since I’m always quick to mock the syndicate colorists for blatantly ignoring in-strip coloring cues, I feel obliged to give them kudos for their work here. Grossie is being praised for her “new dress,” despite the fact that, in black and white, she’d appear to be wearing the exact same niqab-esque thing she always wears. At least the colorists have ensured that today she appears to be wearing a sort of hideous lilac shade instead of her usual unflattering safety orange.

Family Circus, 9/30/09

Well, it appears that we are going to be subjected to Jeffy’s intermittent pantslessness and naked ass more or less indefinitely. If only the monsters responsible would just let us know what their demands are so that we could agree to them immediately, no matter how humiliating!

Luann, 9/30/09

You know, say what you will about the Brad-Toni storyline in Luann, but at least when I encounter it I know what to feel (revulsion). I admit to having no idea what to make of the Elwood thing, which is … storytelling, of a kind, I suppose? Is “bafflement” sort of like “involvement”? I’m not even firm on how old the supposed millionaire is supposed to be; as originally introduced, I think he was supposed to be in high school with the other characters, but now he’s … not? Anyway, I can see two reasons why Elwood would allow the sixteen-year-old object of his misguided affections keep the big honkin’ diamond he wooed her with: either he really is as rich as all that, or it’s a tiny camera with a wireless transmitter and his long-running plan is finally coming to fruition.

Marmaduke, 9/30/09

“In related news, our dog is a terrible four-tongued demon-thing!”

I’ve posted about this before, but I’ve been receiving a flurry of emails about it, so: Yes, there’s a Marmaduke movie in the works. Yes, Fergie and Jeremy Piven are in the cast. Yes, it will be rated NC-17, for the most horrifying violence ever depicted on screen.

Marvin, 9/30/09

I’m not sure I approve of S&M overtones in strips involving babies, but if in the end Marvin gets punished, I guess I can’t complain too much.

Spider-Man, 9/30/09

Dear Spider-Man-reading public eagerly awaiting another instance in which this strip’s hero, who is ostensibly endowed with “spider-sense” that “tingles” at the approach of danger, is nevertheless bashed in the back of the head by an entirely non-super-powered adversary, such as a bowler-cap-wearing manservant or a brick: today is your lucky day.

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Beetle Bailey, 9/18/09

Wow, I’m not sure who reeks of desperation more here: Sgt. Snorkel, wandering despondently around Camp Swampy in the middle of the night because he can’t be with his true love Beetle, or Sgt. Lugg, who has given up on having Sarge acknowledge any kind of affection for her and is now just offering no-strings-attached sex. Sarge is sad and lonely enough to take her up on it, but obviously he needs to get himself good and drunk first.

Blondie, 9/18/09

I’m a 35-year-old who spends much of his time writing a blog about Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G, so obviously I’m not “hip” and “with it” when it comes to the kids today, but: really? I always thought of Crocs as being dorky and suburban, not the sort of thing the kids would use to drive teachers crazy and “push the buttons” of anyone in authority. (Thanks for using the quote marks there, Blondie, as otherwise I would have assumed that some literal button-pushing was going on.) I suppose upon reflection that Crocs have all the necessary attributes for being a punk rock accessory, seeing as they’re both ugly and uncomfortable.

Hi and Lois, 9/18/09

Speaking of punk rock, here’s one of those scary, crazy, anything-goes Webcomics artists! Man, they’re a bunch of angry radicals, aren’t they! And why wouldn’t they be, with their failure to make as much money as the 50 or so widely syndicated newspaper comics artists? Don’t worry, my pink-haired friend; someday your son will be smugly paying gag writers to churn out daily installments of the strip you created before heading out to the golf course, right up to the point when the medium in which its published goes bankrupt.

Family Circus, 9/18/09

“I’m diggin’ up all the pets we buried and piecing together bits of their corpses to make a Frankenstein animal monster! Should I reanimate the dead matter using dark magic or perverted science?”

Ziggy, 9/18/09

Ziggy thinks that his parrot should know something about Quetzalcoatl, the fearsome flying snake god of the Aztecs! That’s because Ziggy experienced a psychotic break from reality, many years ago.

Speaking of breaks, psychotic and otherwise … I’m takin’ the next week off! But don’t worry, your favorite Uncle Lumpy will be here to amuse you. See you next Saturday!