Archive: Funky Winkerbean

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Dick Tracy, 9/4/18

Dick Tracy’s approach to depicting crime has always been cartoonish, but usually that means “criminals have hideously deformed crania that could only exist in drawings” and not “drug gangs have laughable names and stake out territory by gently shoving rivals across the street.”

Funky Winkerbean, 9/4/18

Seems pretty mean to joke about your brain-injured pal‘s mental deficits, but I guess if you’re recovering from a massive stroke, as this guy clearly is, you’re “allowed” to say it.

Shoe, 9/4/18

I really appreciate that, in today’s installment of “the bird-men of Shoe hate their lives and themselves,” the Perfesser sighs audibly but only thinks about his deep-rooted desire for a total annihilation of self, because if you speak a wish out loud it won’t come true.

Mary Worth, 9/4/18


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Hi and Lois, 8/31/18

I am living for the disappointed looks on the faces of Hi and Other Friend Of Thirsty And Possibly Hi in panel two here! While both of these gentlemen wouldn’t have dreamed of trying to horn in on their wives’ bonding time with their female friends, they had always been jealous of their book clubs, and when they got Thirsty’s unexpected invite, they were thrilled: an intellectual salon, a meeting of the minds that would deepen their male bonds! But no, it’s just another opportunity to do low-level crimes, and lose money to boot. Maybe the two of them should start their own book club. It’s not too late, fellas! Overcome that masculine reserve and live your literary dreams!

Mark Trail, 8/31/18

Some of you have wondered: in these difficult times for journalism, how can Woods and Wildlife Magazine possibly keep up its expensive longform niche journalism, paying for long trips overseas for its writers (along with their outrageous travel insurance premiums) and still making rent on its posh Manhattan offices even as advertising rates plummet? Well, the answer is that while Americans may be spending their days endlessly noodling around on social media, consumers in the Latin American market still hunger for fascinating stories about our natural world (World War I era airplanes count as part of the natural world if they fall into a sinkhole).

Family Circus, 8/31/18

Finally, I’ve acknowledged to myself that making a joke about the Keane Kids as part of a horrifying, incestous planned breeding program to create some kind of genetically pure “holy race” is both distasteful and also doesn’t have much support in the comic itself. Now to take a big sip of coffee and read today’s Family Circus!

Funky Winkerbean, 8/31/18

Ha ha, if an absolutely furious old man is screaming abuse at people in the form of unfunny wordplay, it must be Funky Winkerbean!

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Mary Worth, 8/26/18

Man, maybe I’m a bad person for seeing a sincere, chipper, bright-eyed recovering substance abuser telling his lovely girlfriend on the beach “And I don’t hate myself anymore!” and enjoying my most honest laugh in weeks. But if you’ve read this blog all these years and not known what kind of person I am, well, that’s on you, I guess. Anyway, long story short, there’s no word in the English language to describe how extremely healthy and durable this relationship is going to be!

Mark Trail, 8/26/18

Hey, kids, do you think that plants are boring? Tell that to fuckin’ hogsbane, a 14-foot-tall invader that, if you try to kill it, will blind you by spraying you with its poison blood. No wonder Mark doesn’t even crack a half-smile in today’s strip! We must kill all plants, everywhere, until we can be sure that we’re safe.

Dick Tracy, 8/26/18

So Dick Tracy is doing a two-week “minit mystery” with a guest artist. It’s a locked room mystery in which the real Dick Tracy has to solve the murder of a guy cosplaying as Dick Tracy, and all the suspects are people cosplaying as Dick Tracy villains, which I think is a pretty good metaphor for how far up the ass of its own lore this strip has gotten in general.

Funky Winkerbean, 8/26/18

I’m enjoying today’s Funky Winkerbean, in which the title character allows himself a brief smile when he believes that his mother-in-law has finally, blessedly died, only to scowl when he realizes she’s just dozed off.