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Gil Thorp, 6/18/09

I’m kind of shocked that the word “sexting” has actually made an appearance in a Gil Thorp word balloon, but I’m not at all shocked by the context, in which Dr. Pearl (is this her first appearance under the new artist?) appears to be half-assedly principaling, since she presides over Milford High, America’s most half-assedly educated school. “But Dr. Pearl, I’m pretty sure this doesn’t constitute sext–” “I’m sorry, didn’t you hear what I said? This term appeared in major newsweeklies that my doctor leaves in his waiting room! I just learned the word last week and I’m going to use it, by God.”

Meanwhile, the prospect of Bill Hawkins being charged with a felony for not actually forwarding a totally non-revealing picture of his girlfriend in a cardboard bikini made me confront how little I actually like him. The problem with this story is that it revolves around the battle for the baseball team’s soul between Shep Trumbo, who is an unlikeable douchebag, and Bill Hawkins, who is noble and upright and good and also wholly unlikeable. I suppose if I had to choose which one I’d rather see go to jail, it would be Shep, but really if the whole team could just be dragged off by Milford’s jackbooted thugs and thrown in a dark hole where none of us would ever have to see them again, I’d be a happy guy.

Slylock Fox, 6/18/09

This is definitely the most intriguing Six Difference drama I’ve seen in some time. Let’s start with the obvious: the fellow in the chair has a charming mustache, the sinister lunatic in the child’s drawing does not. This implies two separate potential background narratives. Either chair-baldy is the kid’s stepfather, and, just in time for father’s day, he’s being passive-aggressively presented with a drawing of the absent bio-father; or the child has decided that the terrible voice in his head, the one that tells him to burn and kill, is his “real” father, and has drawn a picture of what he thinks this demonic force would look like: something like the man everyone says is his father, but with an evil grin and a glazed, murderous look in his eyes. Either way, the kid’s vacant smile and stab-ready crayon are things to worry about.

Family Circus, 6/18/09

Speaking of multiple wonderful possibilities, are we meant here to believe that Big Daddy Keane is actually trying to offer a skateboarding clinic, only to fail utterly and humiliate himself? Or has Billy just left his skateboard out in the middle of the floor, resulting in an accidental tumble, spun as “look, Daddy’s showing me how to skateboard!” in the usual self-serving darnedest-things-saying way of the Keane Kids? Either way, Daddy is going to be terribly injured, and this is pretty much the greatest Family Circus week ever.

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Mark Trail, 6/12/09

Oh ho! It looks like this Mark Trail dialogue will be serving up some crackling dialogue and verbal jousting covering up underlying sexual tension, just like the best screwball comedies of the ’30s! If, once you’ve forced your way into the head office of a major corporation, there’s a better opening gambit than “I live on a wildlife preserve called Lost Forest!” then I don’t want to know about. And frankly I’d like to see virtually every insane, improperly emphasized sentence out of Mark’s mouth dismissed with a quick “Good for you.”

Gil Thorp, 6/12/09

Hey there Mr. Fancy Artist Man, it’s just Gil Thorp, and within Gil Thorp it’s just Shep Trumbo, so there’s no need to bust out the super-emphasized perspective as you have in panel one, mmmkay? What with the bobble lines around Shep’s head and his severe foreshortening, it looks like he’s going through some kind of mutant-growth spurt that will leave him twenty feet tall, a monstrously huge prankster jerk. The splayed fingers poking out of the left side of the panel look like a floppy mass of tentacles, adding to the freakishness. Meanwhile, panel two features more nostril than anyone wants out of this feature.

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Mary Worth, 6/8/09

As I demanded, so has it been done: POOL PARTY! You don’t know what it’s been like, knowing from your comments that a pool party was in progress but forced to toil on other more lucrative projects rather than enjoy my comics-stories. Now that I’m here, though, it’s pretty darn awesome. Ian is, as one would expect, resplendent in his fuzzy electric blue jacket, and Mary is sporting a kicky black jumper. But I’m most intrigued by the pair of gents in white shirts and high-waisted pants. The dark-haired fellow in panel one, wearing khaki pants and a t-shirt, is posing as if hoping to be discovered by the manager of a low-end clothing catalog. But in panel two, we catch a glimpse, obscured behind Toby’s word balloon blather, of sandy-haired character in baby blue slacks and a luminous polo shirt. Will their eyes meet across the crowded courtyard? Will they chat about how difficult it is to find belts that are the exact same color as one’s pants, and will romance blossom? STAY TUNED!

Speaking of blossoming romance, what are we to make of Toby’s awkward “I loved how she and her husband got together”? My question hinges on the use of “how.” In many cases in casual conversation, “how” simply means “the fact that” (i.e., “I love how Mary is drinking wood-grain alcohol through a straw”), and thus Toby’s statement conveys nothing more than bland approval for a successful coupling. But if “how” is taken to mean “the way in which,” then we must presume there is some sort of meet-cute backstory here (hopefully to be conveyed in ham-handed flashback form). If that’s the case, we may learn that this storyline’s lesson will be the same as the last’s: that the only marriages that last are those in which the groom is selected by the bride’s father from the families of his close associates.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/8/09

Boy, I sure lost interest in this Rex Morgan storyline, didn’t I? If you haven’t been following along, take my word for it that it’s been extremely dull and not even a little bit gay. I admit to being amused by panel one here, though, in which formerly eager-to-please (and formerly black) Guido Tomas rages histrionically upon being revealed as a human trafficker. I think “I am the second officer!” is a somewhat funny thing to yell if you’re pulling the “Don’t you know who I am” card. “Unhand me! My authority derives from the Law of the Sea, and from a bankrupt cruise line! Look, my uniform has epaulets and yours do not! Does that not make it clear that I am of higher status than you?”

Gil Thorp, 6/8/09

Could anything be more pleasing than the final panel in today’s Gil Thorp, in which the sweaty, exhausted Mudlarks collapse and/or vomit onto to the outfield in exhaustion? I suppose it could be topped if the next several days consist of panel after wordless panel of the scene of carnage, with unconscious teenagers flopped pell-mell everywhere, like the famous crane shot of Confederate wounded in Gone With The Wind, and then the next two years are taken up with Gil and the school board defending themselves in the massive lawsuit that will inevitably follow.

Archie, 6/8/09

Insulated from consequences and separated from the common herd by his Croesus-like wealth, Mr. Lodge has gone mad with power and begun conducting experiments on human subjects to satisfy his idle curiosity. “I wonder if this cholesterol medication has been approved by the FDA?” “The pills sure look effective, don’t they? Why not try eight or twelve and see what happens?”

Family Circus, 6/8/09

Generally speaking, if you crush a child’s sense of fun and whimsy early, the transition to white-collar drudgery is significantly less traumatic.

Pluggers, 6/8/09

A plugger’s night on the town could unfold in pretty much exactly the same sequence, at exactly the same stores and restaurants, in any town in America, which is kind of depressing.

Wizard of Id, 6/8/09

Ha ha! It’s funny because prisoners receive substandard health care!