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Gil Thorp, 7/11/18

Hey, it’s Gil Thorp wrapup time, with Marjie Ducey! And if there’s a more callous, dismissive line of Gil Thorp B.S. than panel three there, I don’t ever want to hear it: “Kid gives me four years, to do what for him? Sometimes you just don’t like a kid, stuff happens, it is what it is! Things change; everything works out — for me anyway. Is that all? I gotta get home and grab some of that Pinot before Mimi drains the box.”

Zits, 7/11/18

This sets up the exact inverse of “Curtis is Humiliated Trying on Clothes”, and works just as well.

[The old-school draftsmanship in Zits — like Sherman’s Lagoon, Curtis, and Gasoline Alley — is usually impeccable. That’s why the missing corner of that banner in panel one sticks out: “SALF”?]

Funky Winkerbean, 7/11/18

I know both Josh and I go on about the wads of exposition in this strip: characters (“your father, John Darling”) are constantly reintroduced, events (“the coming reunion”) explained with every mention, and whole backstories laboriously introduced to set up … not much. Maybe the creators are trying to make the strip accessible to casual readers who don’t see it every day? Maybe they don’t realize they’re punishing people for paying attention?

Anyway, if you’re gonna expose, expose right: Eisner is justly famous for his comic books; his early, obscure strips all flamed out before 1939. And San Diego weather is delightful.

Luann, 7/11/18

Gunther’s not at all upset by the idea of his mother as a person independent from himself, with feelings and desires of her own. He just can’t shake the image of Mr. Gray in a leather mask, twirling a leopard-print Speedo over his head and hollering “COWABUNGA”!

Pluggers, 7/11/18

“I learned that from you, Boomer scum!”

Aaaaand that’s it for me, folks! Thank you for a lovely time, and for your generosity during the fundraiser. You guys are first-rate human beings and should all cut yourselves some extra slack today; tell ’em Carl told you so.

Josh will be back tomorrow with songs of the Auvergne, profuse thanks, and his usual slantwise take on comics of the day.

COWABUNGA!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Funky Winkerbean, 7/5/18

Don’t you just love it when some jerkwad announces “A Question!” as though you couldn’t recognize one without his expert help? Darin is a jerkwad, is what I’m saying.

Mark Trail, 7/5/18

More savage than the Maya?  Brr.

“Yes, Rusty — elite warriors were sacrificed in the “dark rituals,” while women and children were sold as slaves. Say, why don’t you and Mara go check out the market while the diggers and I have a word with your Dad?”

Gil Thorp, 7/5/18

The school newspaper sent 6:00 AM push notifications to every phone in town. Be careful crossing the street today, Dafne — Del Bader is the only guy who won’t try to run you over.

Dick Tracy, 7/5/18

Moon-themed exposition from Retik and Stellaluna. Apparently the Moon Maid DNA slurped up from that car wreck to create Mysta gave her a powerful attraction to Moon Maid’s now-remarried widower. Modern problems!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Gil Thorp, 7/3/18

In the annals of phoning it in, Gil Thorp stands as a colossus. And it’s contagious — unless Gil has taken to asking himself questions, the artist was supposed to draw Kaz in the first panel (“Wait a minute … did I just? … Aah, screw it!”).

Anyway, at Gil’s urging, beloved straight-shooting State Coach Colvin has promised no-hoper Kevin Pelwecki a big, steaming sack o’ nothing — walk-on tryout, no aid, thanks for stopping by, see ya kid. My advice? Take it, Kevin — it’s a damn sight better than anything you’ve got now. Especially the coaching!

Funky Winkerbean, 7/3/18

As his hermetic working relationship with Uber pal Pete grows more intense, Darin has gradually distanced himself from wife and family — fobbing off son “Sky” on his exhausted Mom, “forgetting” that wife Jessica lives three time zones away, and then using that as an excuse not to call her. Now, the image of his beloved Pete standing naked and dripping wet throws him into panic: “Must run from feeeeeeelings … !”

Tell me again who’s on the cosmic treadmill here?

9 Chickweed Lane, 7/3/18

The archives of the Comics Curmudgeon are littered with the bones of abandoned one-gag comics: Marmaduke is a big dog, Herb and Jamaal never say anything straight out, Heathcliff is nuts. If it weren’t for the occasional breath of “Everybody hates Grandpa” fresh air, Marvin would join them on the discard pile.

And so it is with 9 Chickweed Lane, with its now decade-long “Oh, the sexy, sexy music!” theme. Lately it’s just been a rotating cast of interchangeable partners rutting to unheard compositions. Is it wrong to want the Nazis back?.

Dustin, 7/3/18

Dude, have you ever read this comic?

— Uncle Lumpy