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Gil Thorp, 3/9/12

Oh, man, you guys. Oh man. As I’ve noted, the Great Mudlark Tattoo Epidemic has been my favorite Gil Thorp plot in a long time, and while I thought it’s flagged a bit of late, it is really paying off in joy this week! See, not only is Ransom Hale of New Zealand really Rupert Hall of Dayton, Ohio, but his sleazy bootleg DVD business is really a non-sleazy, wholly legal business that involves selling DVDs that were obtained without violating any laws. Let’s just pause a moment to contemplate how delightfully little sense this makes. I mean, surely Milford Ink couldn’t buy even used DVDs in enough bulk to undercut, say, Wal-Mart or Amazon, even if we ignore that labor costs involved in doctoring the boxes; and, of course, I’m pretty sure you can’t buy used DVDs of the latest Twilight movie.

But let’s just hand-wave all that away because if we take it at face value it means that Gil has absolutely no legitimate gripe against Milford Ink. That won’t keep him from using his Army training to bust up the joint and/or make a withering speech that will shame the ne’er-do-wells, of course, but it’s pretty hilarious to see his self-righteous indignation grow with each new non-damning revelation about this faux-seedy business.

Apartment 3-G, 3/9/12

This whole week of Apartment 3-G, in which Rick has been passive-aggressively needling Tommie about her lack of passion for the music business (and, by implication, for him) has failed to arouse any passion in me, for the obvious reasons of, come on, Tommie, zzz. But I do want to point out that Tommie is apparently wearing the world’s only existing set of turtleneck scrubs.

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Gil Thorp, 3/8/12

Having finished with his winter job duties (i.e., losing the boy’s basketball championship), Gil finally has time to follow up on some of his personal projects (i.e., shutting down a wholly legal tattoo parlor with a minor sideline in selling bootleg DVDs). Ransom Hale may actually be named Rupert and may not be from New Zealand, but the good look at his tonsure that we get in panel three shows us the real scandal here: he’s a monk who’s forsaken his vows poverty, obedience, and possibly chastity! Boy, wait until the abbot hears about this!

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/8/12

Snuffy, Uriah can’t hear your recounting of your corrupt relationship with the town’s only law enforcement authority; as his ghostly, colorless face in panel two indicates, he actually dropped dead from shock upon hearing about the Post Office’s troubled finances, and has now crossed over into the spirit realm. Since ghosts no longer think in ordinary language the way we do on this plane of existence, “?” is the closest we can get to transcribing the sense of wonder and amazement Uriah is experiencing as he begins to understand his newly transcendent state.

Judge Parker, 3/8/12

I’m not even going to try to explain what’s going on here; I’m just going to point out that today’s first panel, in which a chesty blonde cradles a shotgun while having a boring, confusing conversation with someone on the phone, is Judge Parker distilled down to its very essence.

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Marvin, 3/5/12

Today’s Marvin actually raises some interesting philosophical questions! What does Marvin’s mom mean exactly when she says her child is “old enough to know better”? From panel one, it’s clear that he’s reached the point in his cognitive development where he’s capable of constructing rudimentary tools to get what he wants; does she believe that the ability to control one’s environment ought to coincide with an understanding of how such control might conflict with the prevailing ethical system? That might be theoretically elegant, but perhaps she’s encountering a sociobiological counterpoint to that argument, in which our inbuilt desires run wildly ahead of the layer of civilizing rules we’ve created to try to restrain them, and the only recourse is punishment. Getting old does stink, Marvin, as it means learning to say no to the fun things we’ve just learned how to do, to keep total chaos at bay.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/5/12

Rex is trying to short-circuit this whole storyline and skip ahead to the part where he gets to stop caring about everything. “Too bad we don’t know any screenwriters! And really, where would we even find such people? They’re like reclusive monks, toiling away in secret. Best to drop the whole thing. Say, this is some pretty delicious yogurt!”

Gil Thorp, 3/5/12

Since Gil benched one of his star players to make a point about mild tattoo-related shenanigans (that point being “Gil doesn’t like your cultural practices, young people”), the Mudlarks have lost their first chance at a championship in years. I like the third panel because it demonstrates that some kids buy Gil’s inspirational bullshit and some don’t. Blond kid on right: “He’s right! I can feel my character being built by this heartbreaking, unnecessary defeat!” Dark-haired kid on left: “Enh, no, I still would have rather won the game. Think I’ll go get some tattoos that reflect my new grim worldview.”

Six Chix, 3/5/12

So these ladies are supposed to be … lady mobsters? That’s what their outfits are meant to convey to us? And they’ve murdered someone, for tweeting? But that — oh, look at the time, I’ve spent far too long contemplating this Six Chix, now I think I’ll go do anything else.