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Marmaduke, 6/1/09

I suppose that Marmaduke’s owner’s wobbly, knock-kneed stance and one-sided smirk are supposed to convey “coquettish feigned innocence,” and that we are meant to understand that she has left her tired old penny loafers out in the middle of the floor, possibly after having covered them with steak sauce, so that Marmaduke will eat them and she’ll get to buy exciting new penny loafers. This is all well and good, but harnessing Marmaduke’s insatiable appetite for organic or quasi-organic matter to solve one’s problems can lead down a dangerous path. I shudder to imagine the scene, a few months hence, when Marmaduke’s owner arrives home to find the mangled corpses of her children strewn across the foyer. “Oh no!” she’ll exclaim. “Now I’ll have to figure out something fun to do with the money in their college savings accounts!”

Family Circus, 6/1/09

I actually find this cartoon kind of poignant, mostly because of what you can barely see written on the paper: “Chapt 1 I’m bored.” Is this some sort of creative writing assignment, where the students are allowed to write their own novels, their stories limited only by their imagination? Has the task brought Billy face to face with his essential emptiness, a fundamental lack of creative energy? Is he bored inside his own head? His enormous, misshapen head?

Hi and Lois, 6/1/09

I was going to make a crack here about the Flagstons’ depressing, sexless marriage, but then I remembered how awful it was when they last telegraphed to us their intentions to get freaky, so: yes, this is exactly how I expect — nay, require — Hi and Lois to spend their precious few hours of alone time.

Slylock Fox, 6/1/09

Really, Sly? Industrial espionage? That … that just seems beneath you.

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Family Circus, 5/25/09

As several faithful readers have pointed out, this epic two-week “The Family Circus family sells off their household belongings in order to feed their litter of children” plot is a rerun from decades past, though I hadn’t seen it before. I’m pretty sure I’d have remembered it if I had, because I’m pretty sure this is the first time that I’ve seen some sexy interloper put the Keane’s rock-solid and extremely fecund marriage in jeopardy. I’d make some crack about “pole dancing,” but this blonde bombshell looks less like a stripper and more like some kind of pretty princess doll magically brought to life, which to my mind is much, much creepier.

Dick Tracy, 5/25/09

You know what separates Dick Tracy from your run-of-the-mill out-of-control cop who operates above the law and kills perps, suspected perps, and those standing in close proximity to suspected perps with impunity? It’s his philosophical turn of mind. For instance, if someone had asked me what did in the Queen of Diamonds, I’d have said that it was some combination of suffocation and massive third-degree burns all over her body after she fell into a smokestack. But Tracy is never satisfied with proximate causes, and is always looking for the deeper origins of events. I suppose that’s what makes him such a great detective — that and his propensity for violence and lack of a shred of human empathy.

By the way, I offer half-hearted kudos for linking that Queen of Diamonds plot to the current One-Eyed Jack storyline. I’m relieved to learn that, though the tendency for criminals to run around dressed as playing cards is rampant in the Dick Tracy universe, it appears to be limited to a single family.

Spider-Man, 5/25/09

I knew that the recent Wolverine flick didn’t perform at the box office as well as had been hoped, but does he really merit banishment to the Spider-Man newspaper strip? That seems like an extreme punishment.

Apartment 3-G, 5/25/09

“Wait, you want me to help you make a decision? Gary, don’t you know who I am? I’m Tommie Thompson! I don’t decide things; I just let events happen to me, then I whine about it. Here, I’m going to close my eyes until you’ve decided whether to move to Denver or not. Then I’m going to sigh endlessly.”

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Let’s start today by taking a step into the past — specifically, yesterday.

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 5/17/09

Margo is about to jet off to China to single-handedly rescue her fiance and force the People’s Bank of China to revalue the yuan in the process, but first she’s stopping off at her mother’s for a free meal. What could possibly be the cause of the girlish glee occurring inside Gabriella’s apartment?

Apartment 3-G, 5/18/09

OH MY GOD, IT’S HER PARENTS! And they’re being all … nice to each other. Surely the last thing any of us want to see is our parents flirting like they’re on a third date and have consumed exactly the right amount of wine for magic to happen twenty to forty minutes in the future; this is especially true for Margo, whose very self-image requires her to imagine the act of her creation as a moment of pure mutual loathing and contempt, so you can imagine her disgust at seeing this happy little tableau here.

(Margo’s creation story is actually pretty sordid, which gives this whole scene a vibe of genuine ick that I’m not sure is intended.)

Blondie, 5/18/09

As panel three indicates, Blondie is under the suffocating, restrictive gaze of her husband at all times, so she’s learned to choose her words carefully so as to avoid his wrath while still speaking the truth. “I thought he was all those things, but boy howdy was I wrong. Look, Cookie, the results of my carefree flapper days should make it pretty clear that bathtub gin dulls both your eyesight and your judgment.”

Family Circus, 5/18/09

Oh, look, the Keanes have apparently acquired a crazed neighborhood enemy! This can only escalate; tomorrow, they’ll presumably wake up to find the words “HUMAN GARBAGE” spray-painted across the front of their house. The real question, of course, why it took so long for this to happen.

Mark Trail, 5/18/09

You’re probably laughing at this because you’re imagining Rusty, dressed in his best khaki paramilitary uniform and his brightest blue kerchief, earnestly showing a college admissions officer his “transcripts,” which consist entirely of poorly lit and composed pictures of those forest animals dumb or ill enough to be lured into the pen behind the Trail cabin. But that scenario, of course, assumes that Rusty has any idea what “college” actually is. Once he’s saved up enough, Mark and Cherry will probably find a glove factory or third-world rebel army willing to accept some cash in return for taking the mutant freak-child off their hands; then they’ll tell him he’s going to Bowdoin or something and send him on his way, never to be seen again.