Post Content

Gil Thorp, 12/10/09

People like to complain about Gil Thorp’s fractured narrative, with the action typically jumping to three different times and places over three panels. I admit that following along can sometimes be an expert-level skill, but I think it’s well worth the effort. How else could we get the triptych of awesome that we’re treated to today? In panel one, shadowy, faraway figures discuss the comeuppance Jamaar’s hubris has earned him, as we are encouraged to contemplate somebody’s capri pants and hindquarters; in panel two, we get the second glimpse this week of Gil radiating pure smugness at poor Goshen coach “Beardy” Fazio, as he offers a manly handshake that says “Ha ha, our best players are suspended or moping and we still kicked your ass”; and, finally, in panel three we can enjoy a glimpse of the boozy lead-in to Gil and Mimi and Coach Kaz and Kelly’s twice-monthly orgy, with the roaring fireplace set into the Thorp’s all-formstone wall setting the mood nicely.

Spider-Man, 12/10/09

You know, newspaper Spider-Man, the main pleasure I derive from reading you generally comes from cruelly deriding your inept storytelling; thus, when you decide to give up and fully embrace camp, as you seem to have done today, it kind of ruins it for me. At least I can snicker at the fact that your freakishly out-of-proportion stand-up vacuum cleaner appears to be roughly eight feet tall.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/10/09

The most interesting thing about today’s strip … no, not those, you cartoon-masturbating-to pervert, get your mind out of the gutter. Ahem. The other interesting thing about today’s strip is Rex’s silent, plaintive face in the background of panels one and two. It’s like he knows that this is June’s cousin so she’s in charge at the moment, but he’s still all “Hello! I have something dickish and self-righteous to say about this situation! Anyone want to hear it? Anyone?”

Dick Tracy, 12/10/09

“Step one: Buy a rare and expensive objet d’art! Step two: Wait for it to appreciate in value, which it will hopefully do more quickly than the equivalent amount of money would have if put into a more typical investment portfolio! Step three: Sell at a profit! It can’t fail! MU HA HA HA HA!”

The place where the Jumble should be, 12/10/09

This is the third day in the row on which the Jumble has failed to appear on the Houston Chronicle’s online comics page. What are they hiding from us? This is an outrage! NO JUMBLE NO PEACE!

Post Content

Mary Worth, 12/7/09

Believe you me, I plan to follow the Exciting Tale Of Wilbur’s Bastard Son very closely, at least right up until the point when against all odds it manages to become boring (which, this being Mary Worth, could happen at literally any moment). Today’s hilarity comes thanks to Wilbur’s complete and utter lack of filter. I think that most single fathers, if confronted with the possibility that their youthful man-sluttery had living, breathing, school-tuition-requiring consequences, might attempt to compose themselves a bit and have a coherent narrative ready before breaking the news to their college age daughter. They might even try to figure out if the story is true first! But not Wilbur. “Aw, jeez, I think I knocked some broad up, back in the ’80s!” he yelps, no doubt to Dawn’s horror and disgust, as he compulsively rubs his clammy head-skin for comfort.

Mark Trail, 12/7/09

What an awesome time it is for soap opera strips, when poor Rusty pinned under Mark’s four thousand pound station wagon only merits second place in our thoughts! With man’s toolmaking skills down for the count, Mark will be forced to use the lessons he’s learned from nature. “Rusty, you’ll need to make like a trapped fox and chew off your own foot! Quickly, before the pelicans mistake you for a dying fish and attack!”

Gil Thorp, 12/7/09

Meanwhile, Coach Thorp is on the horns of a dilemma! It seems that he’s under pressure to kick notorious public drunkard Duncan Daley off of his team. But Duncan needs the structure and routine of playing football! It’s all that’s holding him together! *cough* Also he’s Milford’s best player *cough* I particularly enjoy today’s panel two, which appears to be footage from the hidden ceiling-mounted camera Gil used to capture Coach Fazio’s moment of humiliation for repeat viewing later.

How can Coach Thorp avoid such a fate? Well, we might start by not calling Prisoner Daley a hypocrite. I mean, are we terribly shocked that the sort of guy who would commit a jail-worthy offense might also be the sort of guy who would instigate a prison fight? I think Gil needs to take the “fighting a bad influence” approach. “Duncan’s brother told Duncan to stay out of trouble. Duncan’s brother is a convicted felon! Do you expect him to take the advice of a jailbird? He had to drink that beer!”

Hi and Lois, 12/7/09

Speaking of drunken teenagers, Chip appears to be in some kind of substance-induced coma! Obviously Lois’s main concern is to get him somewhere out of sight.

Luann, 12/7/09

Each of Luann’s suitors has to have some unspeakably perverted fetish, and now we know Quill’s: elf porn!

Post Content

Gil Thorp, 11/26/09

Greetings, faithful readers! I hope those of you who celebrate Thanksgiving did so with your real friends, a whole bunch of beer bottles, and celebrated as our Pilgrim forefathers did, at a picnic table in some dark, lonely park somewhere.

Mark Trail, 11/26/09

Those of you who are criminals have a lot to be thankful for! Specifically, you can be thankful that in America’s forgiving justice system, you can go from being a law-breaker to being law-enforcement official simply by choosing exactly the right time to kick one of your erstwhile criminal associates in the face.

Dick Tracy, 11/27/09

As for me, I’m mostly thankful that Dick Tracy refers to any concert not performed by the U.S. Marine Corps Band or the Mormon Tabernacle Choir as “long hair stuff.”

Mark Trail, 11/29/09

And I’m also pleased that Mark Trail decided to pass over more obvious animals on Thanksgiving weekend and go for the deep’s more terrifying tentacled monsters, offering us in the process a lovely image of a nervous human approaching the rotting corpse of 50-foot-long giant squid and a giant depiction of a living squid of indeterminate size regarding us inscrutably from his watery lair. And, sure, the bottom left panel is a repeat of one from a previous squid-themed Mark Trail installment, but what of it? If I had produced an awesome drawing of dozens of squids flying through the air like a barrage of betentacled missiles, I’d run it every damn day if I could.