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Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/14/07

Sometimes I get a terrifying moment where I believe I control the comics with my mind and all the nonexistent subtext I go on and on about is actually true, and I had a doozy of one of those when I read today’s Rex Morgan. Sure, it’s the usual “Hey, Rex, let’s screw!” “I think someone’s forgetting our arrangement” routine that we’ve come to know and love, but then everybody’s fun is spoiled by the look of heartbreaking disappointment on June’s face in panel three. Yes, Rex is dashing off, and by taking Nikki with him, it’s check and mate, if you know what I mean; June is once again the lonely point on the triangle. Will the next plotline be about how June needs to strike out on her own to find love, or at least satisfaction? Or will it just be endless pederastic innuendoes about fishing, with that sad, big-eyed face in the last panel floating at the edge of our consciousness for the next six to eight weeks?

Rex’s already feeble desire to have the relations with his wife may have been further dampened by her weirdly elongated neck and oddly shaped head in the first panel. Watch out, Elastic Lass! You need to return your body to its default configuration before interacting with the non-stretchies, or you’ll disturb them!

Gil Thorp, 9/14/07

I knew that high school sports have an essentially religious significance in the God-forsaken burg of Milford, but that didn’t prepare me for the scene of absolute mayhem in the third panel here, which I assume to be a vignette from a football pep rally of some kind. As Gil announces the starters for this year’s team, he seems oblivious to the monstrous geyser of flame erupting from the Earth’s crust just behind him. Presumably, as is the tradition, the student body is celebrating the beginning of football season by gathering in front of the town volcano. They’ve ingested some kind of hallucinogenic root or fungus, so instead of fleeing in terror from the magma, they writhe in a great ecstatic mass, as you can see in the background. Those who are splashed by the ultrahot lava but survive are considered to be marked by the fire gods, and will be permitted to try out for the team next year, which explains why the Mudlarks are all so hideously ugly and/or deformed.

Family Circus, 9/14/07

Wow, Billy really, really cares about music. And about imposing his will on everybody around him. I don’t know what’s more unnerving: the fact that he looks like he’s about to haul off and punch his sister in the face for mishumming some damn Wiggles song, or the fact that Dolly looks sad and scared but also resigned to being punched in the face because, really, she should have learned the melody better before humming it in public.

For Better Or For Worse, 9/14/07

There’s a lot to dislike about this FBOFW. For instance, it’s fairly obviously a new strip, but it’s just as obviously been done in the style of the old strips we’ve been seeing for the past few weeks, which is kind of jarring. I guess the simpler style is supposed to represent “in the past”, but the lettering and the gradients and multiple background characters give it away. It also features that stunning and totally unselfaware Michael Patterson self-regard we’ve all come to know and loathe. But I still kind of like it, because panel four features baby Elizabeth visibly vomiting, and there just isn’t enough puke in the funny pages for my taste.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/14/07

There are generally two kinds of reaction shots in the punchline panel of Snuffy Smith. Either one character is visibly laughing, mouth open and tongue wagging, because the simple folk of Hootin’ Holler don’t need anything more than the corny jokes typical of Snuffy Smith to have a good time; or one character looks frowny-faced and wrinkle-browed, because even in Hootin’ Holler, the best kind of punchline involves someone suffering at least a little bit. But rarely do you see the sort of dumbstruck amazement that’s on the face of Snuffy in panel two here. It’s as if he’s thinking, “Jesus Christ, was this Snuffy Smith built around a frickin’ astrology joke? Seriously?”

Dennis the Menace, 9/14/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because Mr. Wilson doesn’t have any friends!

Luann, 9/14/07

Ha ha! It’s funny because Brad doesn’t have any friends!

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Hurry – last day!

Thank you thank you!

Apartment 3G, 9/5/07, 9/7/07

Hahahahahahahaha. Oh, Eric, Eric, Eric, this is not wise. Just remember, you yellow-shirted morsel: you are no Dr. Drew Corey M.D. and Margo, sir, is no Dawn Weston.

Family Circus, 9/7/07

I don’t know which is more disturbing here: a creative process that begins with drawing the circle because that’s the hard part, or the family dynamics of Jeffy drawing his brother ridiculing his father.

Sally Forth, 9/7/07

Hee. Worst Grandma ever!

Happy Friday, everybody!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/30/07

So, after three years of doing this site, I’ve discovered The Rex Morgan Problem, which goes something like this: The set-up for each storyline is delightful, but once we get to the climax, my interest suddenly deflates. Rex and Troy’s gay golf game kept me in stitches for hours! But then there was blackmail and SWAT teams and ZZZZZZZ. June and a 12-year-old banter about oral sex! But then there was an attempt to kidnap or kill him or something? YAWN! I’m beginning to suspect that it’s my problem, not the strip’s. Anyway, this is my apology for cutting back on my RMMD coverage just when it got ostensibly “exciting.” See, they found Milton and suddenly Pete the Chauffeur, who has seemed like a good guy all this time, is suddenly fleeing with Heather in tow because … he’s bad? Somehow? And now that Milton is really alive his hopes of being the power behind the throne are dashed? Also, he’s in the NSA? And the Chinese are involved? Maybe? But I don’t really care. Honest to God, can we just go back to June insulting civil servants and Rex being a dick to everyone because an uncomprehending world won’t accept him as he is? Because that’s what I tune in for.

I do like today’s last panel: if Rex were an ordinary protagonist, his implication would be “The cops won’t be able to find him … so I will!” as he drives to Pete’s secret hiding place that only he’s smart enough to discover. But this being Rex, his implication is “So, there’s no hope and we might as well move on,” and his destination is the office. Or Baskin-Robbins.

Family Circus, 8/30/07

This is my favorite kind of Family Circus: the kind where Jeffy is aggressively ignorant. He knows that everyone else in the family thinks he’s a moron — deep down, he probably knows that he is a moron — so he figures he’s just going to make their life difficult with it. Today we have the typical kids-say-the-darndest-things-because-they-treat-idioms-literally schtick, but there’s something about his attitude that says that he knows his little question is going make grandma regret coming over to try to relate to the little rugrats. “Gosh, grandma, how does ‘tight’ relate to sleeping, huh? Are we talking about my bowels? Because mommy says I have to sleep with those tight. What if I sleep loose and poop all over the bed, huh? What if that, huh? Grandma? Huh?”

(oh my god I just admitted that I had a favorite kind of Family Circus I’m screwed now)

Marmaduke, 8/30/07

OK, the MUNCH MUNCH MUCH I can deal with. I get it, the damn dog is chewing his way through bags and probably boxes to devour all of his family’s food before they get a chance to do so, sure, whatever. It’s the LICK LICK that really makes me uncomfortable. I’m assuming that he’s slobbering all over the grocery items that he can’t get down his ravenous gullet — the canned goods, the frozen foods — so that it’s all covered with a thick layer of viscous Great Dane drool. He may not be able to eat it, but he’s going to make sure that it’s so disgusting that his owners won’t want to either, because, fuck you, he’s Marmaduke.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 8/30/07

The Dubbers just love — like, we mean love — their flix with bombings, earthquakes, explosions, train wrecks, etc., etc.

(“Hmm, lotsa shootings in this one … huh, that fella lost an arm … howja think they did all that fake blood, witha computer?”)

But! Let ’em see one li’l nipple … and the whole menagerie is up and at ’em!

(“Awk! Filth! This is disgustin’! And little Hekkie saw it! He’ll be scarred for life … I’m writin’ Senator Blowhard … an outrage … should be able to watch HBO at 10 pm without seeing this garbage …”)