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Curtis, 9/29/07

I’ve perversely pleased that Curtis has chosen to take on a topic so very rarely tackled in the comics: that moment in a young man’s life when his raging hormones completely overwhelm his capacity to act in a socially appropriate fashion. In Curtis’ case, he’s taken to “watching” (just watching, sure) degrading reality quasiporn right before dinner time. It’s nothing to be proud of, but we’ve all been there, right fellas? (And probably the ladies too, though I’ll let them speak for themselves.) Anyway, part of every person’s self-pleasuring education involves learning the whens and wheres, and Curtis is quickly finding out that where should probably not be “in the bedroom that you share with your brother in what is probably a none-too-large apartment” and when should definitely not be “in the early evening, when your family is in the next room and could wander in at any moment.” Patience and cunning are required while you still live at home, Curtis. You don’t want to be too obvious about it in such close proximity to your mom, lest you enter Francis territory.

If “family matters” is my new favorite euphemism for sex, then “the ‘times’” is clearly my new favorite euphemism for puberty. And I do wonder if Curtis has finally gotten his hands on the fabled “syrup chapter.”

Gil Thorp, 9/30/07

The Mudlarks have started the season 0-2 behind quarterback Tony Casey’s consistently dismal play. Some might say that he just doesn’t have the talent, but I think he’s a bit distracted … distracted by left guard Howard Gourwitz and his wholesome, aw-shucks good looks! While Tony’s the quarterback, in the aftermath of Milford’s defeat it’s Howard who’s making passes. Tony might be disappointed to “forget the Bucket”, at least this week, but I’ll be he’s looking forward to finding out exactly what act of delightful perversity “empty your mom’s fridge” might be code for.

While this romantic drama is going on the foreground, I have to wonder about football player number three in the second panel, who can’t seem to get his helmet off. Did a particularly powerful hit jam it onto his skull so tightly that he’ll be forced to wear it around school indefinitely? Meanwhile, after the inevitable disorienting jump cut, we get the promise of more vandalism-based hijinks to come. Backwards black hat dude is a master of the school-rivalry prank; he’s had a long time to acquire that mastery, since he appears to be 35 or so.

Momma, 9/29/07

It probably shouldn’t come as a surprise that Momma plans to go out like a monarch from ancient Egypt or Sumer. When she dies, her faithful servants will kill and entomb her children with her in her enormous ziggurat so they can wait on her hand and foot in the afterlife. Good God, that smile on her sleeping face creeps the hell out of me.

Archie, 9/29/07

You can when you spend as much time huffing paint as you do, Archie!

Man, the nameless guy at the bottom center of the second panel is the saddest dude in the world. There’s someone who actually cares about his test scores and his academic future. Archie is just idly musing on his incipient dementia to pass the time until he sees something shiny.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/29/07

Yeah, and the younger one kind of looks like he’s on fire. That could explain the odor.

Pluggers, 9/29/07

A plugger’s erectile dysfunction is kind of besides the point, since the rest of his body is in such an advanced state of decay that attempting any kind of sexual encounter would be excruciatingly painful. Plus nobody really wants to have sex with him anyway.

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Apartment 3-G, 9/27/07

“Here, Margo, you might want to ‘amuse yourself’ over here by my desk. Right in front of this Webcam, which is totally not at all turned on and connected to the Internet. Have fun! Heh heh, ‘twiddle my thumbs’…”

Dick Tracy, 9/27/07

So as far as I know, in a D.C. context “the Rotunda” is the space under the big dome thingie in the middle of the Capitol building, which means that Gretchen just suicide-bombed (is there an active verb form of “suicide bomber?”) Congress, eliminating the legislative branch, throwing the U.S. government into chaos, and presumably ushering in an “emergency regime” that will last indefinitely and be fronted by Dick Tracy, a well-known authoritarian sadist. This will definitely be more interesting than the last few weeks of this strip, which mostly consisted of aimless driving around.

Gil Thorp, 9/27/07

Marty Moon’s days of drunken debauchery must have been a lot wilder than I thought, because it looks like he lost an eye when someone attacked him in a bar fight with a broken bottle. He’s so excited by the Mudlarks’ late-game collapse, he hasn’t even noticed that his glass eye is veering wildly to the right.

Luann, 9/27/07

Never mind the little spat over who gets to be TJ’s “partner”; doesn’t it smell kind of fishy that Brad, an employee of the Fire Department, will be helping secure a no-bid, taxpayer-underwritten contract with said Fire Department for the catering business that he’s secretly moonlighting for? The whole sordid deal will climax with eight weeks of hearings before the city council’s Ethics Subcommittee, at the end of which you will be begging for a return to the “Luann and Bernice fight about Ben” storyline.

Marmaduke, 9/27/07

Is anyone else as creeped out by the name of this butcher’s shop as I am? It’s like, instead of a storeroom or walk-in freezer at the back of the store, there’s just an entrance to a cave. A cave full of meat.

One Big Happy, 9/27/07

It’s been well established that One Big Happy’s Joe is ignorant, and willfully so. Today he’s covering his face in a desperate attempt to block out new knowledge of any sort. This must be heartbreaking to his father, who loves learning so much that he’s chosen to subscribe to the premium digital cable package just so he can get the Algebra Channel.

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Gil Thorp, 9/22/07

And once again, another Milford football season begins with defeat, vandalism, and desperate media spin. I may not know much about football (I went 0-3 this week in my family’s friendly betting league, setting me up to go out of the running altogether next week in some kind of all-time record for futility) but I can tell you that if the coaching staff of Valley Tech or Oakville or Generic WASPy Name High or whoever the Mudlarks are playing next week haven’t worked out that “awful quarterback + vaguely competent offensive line = working on screens and draws”, they’re probably even worse at their job than Gil, and may actually be Europeans who are confused by the odd shape of this so-called American “football”. Thus, Gil’s “off the record” comment to Marjorie (I think that’s Marjorie, right? Snoopy reporter girl? Broke the head-bashing Tyler story wide open, just like Tyler broke his head wide open?) seems particularly pointless, as it’s hard to imagine what she’d do with it, journalism-wise, other than just, you know, report it. Maybe Gil knows that by making her feel like she’s privy to insider information, she’ll remain his pliant media mouthpiece, leaving Marty Moon the only reporter who dares ask the tough questions of Milford’s althetics politburo. It can’t make that much difference in the long run, since the Milford Star, like most high school papers, probably only publishes two or three times a semester, so this interview probably won’t run until the Mudlarks are already out of the running for the playdowns.

Meanwhile, panel three is about the saddest thing you’ll ever seen in your life, as a trio of Milfordians hang their head in shame at the savage spray-painting the front of the school received. There’s nothing more humiliating than losing a football game by 10 whole points, so surely these kids are going to be way too depressed to learn anything today. I do like the fact that, if Gil’s segue is to be believed, the athletic department is responsible for cleaning the graffiti up. I can just see the janitor sneering at Coach Thorp and saying, “I’m not doing it! This never would have happened if your team wasn’t so shitty.”

Family Circus, 9/22/07

You know how sometimes a cat doesn’t seem to know whether it wants to be inside or outside? Oh, that’s always funny when that happens! So it’d be just as funny when a little kid does it, right? Of course! Well, except change “funny” to “indicative of crippling obsessive-compulsive disorder.” Poor Jeffy is hopping back and forth over the door lintel, tormented by an inner drive that he can’t really grasp, only knowing that it’ll only be OK for him to come in the house when he gets it just right. So he goes in, then out, then back in, over and over, until his little thighs get so tired that he just collapses in the doorway, and all Dolly can do is stand there with her hands on her hips and say “Mommy, I think Jeffy’s stupid.” Nice support you get from your family there, Jeffy.

Dick Tracy, 9/22/07

I have to admit that other than the horrible stub-fingered hands that are omnipresent in the strip, I really do like the art in Dick Tracy. It has a very distinct stylized aesthetic that is both unique and unmistakable; Gretchen’s crazy eyes looming menacingly over that wrapped package could appear nowhere else in the newspaper. I also think that events in the individual strips actually have a great internal rhythm. It’s only when you start contemplating the continuity as a whole that it dissolves into a sea of incomprehensible nonsense. I was sort of hoping that Gretchen and her spy flunkies would crash their helicopter directly onto the Baron, killing all four and removing any chance that any of the details of this baffling plotline would ever be clarified. Instead, we’re presumably going to get Gretchen running endlessly towards the Pentagon or whatever for three weeks, following by the bomb going off in her hands and some cryptic explanation from Detective Tracy. At least we’ll get to see someone blown to bits, which is also an event that could be portrayed nowhere else in the newspaper quite as graphically as I expect we’re going to get treated to here.

Marmaduke, 9/22/07

Having failed in all of his other attempts to stop this huge, rampaging hellhound’s reign of terror, the dogcatcher has decided to try to kill Marmaduke with lung cancer.