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Mark Trail, 8/3/07

OH YEAH, MARK TRAIL BEATING THE CRAP OUTTA SOME GUY! That’s the best way to start your weekend right there. I love the way Buzzard is toppling over in panel one, less like an actual human being who just got socked in the jaw and more like the huge statue of a jowly, overalled dictator being pulled down in the wake of some kind of anti-hillbilly revolution.

Since he has no facial hair to punch off, we have to settle for the image of Buzzard’s hat flying off in the opposite direction of his head as he reels from Mark’s punishing blow. Some of you seem to believe that Mark’s punched Buzzard’s overalls off as well, but in panel two they seem to still be securely fastened. No, I think what’s happening in panel three, as Buzzard tries to distract us with his legal jibber-jabber, is that the portly rustic is actually taking off his clothes in preparation for the next phase of the battle. Tomorrow’s going to be awesome.

Apartment 3-G, 8/3/07

I surprised even myself yesterday by glossing over Margo’s blatant come-on, but today’s sordid aftermath is in the final analysis really more my style. Eric and Margo, ever the romantics, apparently did it fully clothed out on the balcony, and Eric, ever the gentleman, passed out almost immediately afterwards. If Margo were capable of feeling, she might be upset, but as it is the situation offers a perfect opportunity to root through Eric’s stuff. These two crazy kids are made for each other!

Funky Winkerbean, 8/3/07

I have to disagree with those commentors who are saying that Lisa is calling Darrin a mistake to his face. She’s saying that, if you don’t want to have a baby, it’s a mistake to have sex without using birth control — which is true, damn it. And Jessica’s comeback implies that the current generation of young Winkerbeaners were smart enough to know that. So, yay for the promotion of safe sex, even if only obliquely hinted at! I give you kudos on this point, Funky Winkerbean.

Darrin and Jessica will still die of cancer before they’re 30, of course.

Gil Thorp, 8/3/07

Gil Thorp continues to be the gift that keeps on giving, as Coach Kaz, P.I., works his way through the has-beens and burnouts that make up Gail Martin’s touring band. You can tell that Kaz has the great people sense that all good detectives need, as he openly condescends to one of the guys he’s going to be on tour with, though Cliff “Second Summer In A Row That Gil Thorp Has Featured A Benjamin Franklin Lookalike” Wrobek is probably too high to notice. I almost hope that Gail cancels her concert tour out of fear, because the image of a dazed and confused Cliff trying to sell insurance while waving his drumsticks around is just too delicious.

Wizard of Id, 8/3/07

After the United States adopted a single-payer health care system, most historians believed that the turning point in the debate came when the Wizard of Id joined the movement.

Ziggy, 8/3/07

Ha ha! Ziggy mouthed off and got punched in the face! Little dude just can’t win! Look at the bruising! Ha!

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Dennis the Menace, 8/1/07

Not to keep on repeating myself, but there are few things more disturbing in this life than seeing that single drop of sweat roll slug-like down George Wilson’s florid, spiteful mask of a face. All of the things that it could signify — an incipient killing spree, a massive cerebral hemorrhage in progress, unwanted sexual arousal — are things better left uncontemplated.

Today, Dennis is identified as a pest, which is an epithet much more in line with his severely downgraded antisocial behavior. It doesn’t actually rhyme with “Dennis,” but I would argue that his current pale reflection of his past menacing glories ought to revoke his right to a rhyming nickname. I had a brief hope when my eyes settled on the word “pest” that Mr. Wilson was referring to a three-foot-tall fly-human hybrid, who had escaped from his basement lab and had arrived to wreak a gruesome revenge on his creator. This, to me, would have justified that creepy bead of sweat.

Crankshaft, 8/1/07

Ha ha, silly old person! You thought that as an adult you were still entitled privacy and autonomy! Has nobody pointed out to you that you’re old?

Popeye, 8/1/07

After our last visit to this feature, those of you who don’t read Popeye regularly are probably wondering if the strip continues to be totally bonkers. Today’s installment, in which Popeye, Olive Oyl, and Olive Oyl’s brother Castor cower in a Cold War-era bomb shelter from a bloodthirsty cow determined to bite off their heads and drag their corpses across the field, is here to answer with a hearty “Yes!”

Gil Thorp, 8/1/07

“All beginners have issues with footwork Mr. Ritter, but Bill has only half as much trouble as most — because he only has half as many feet! Get it? Because he chopped one of his legs off with a chainsaw, you see. But anyway, your boy can punch! It’s almost as if he carries some kind of burning, unquenchable rage inside of him! I can’t guess why that would be, but let’s just hope that the guy who invented the chainsaw doesn’t get in the way of his fists, you know what I’m saying? Get it? Because he chopped one of his legs off with a chainsaw! Hey, come back, where’re you going? I got a million of these!”

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Gil Thorp, 7/30/07

Thank God the helpful narration box tells us that Gail Martin’s tour has hit the weirdly specific spot of Wheeling, W.Va., because based on the soul-crushing Stalinist architecture on display in panel one, I would have guessed that she was just finishing up three triumphant nights in Bratislava’s Štadión Petržalka.

As many of you have noted, Gil Thorp’s trademarked Hideous Disembodied Claw-Thing™ makes an appearance in panel three, but there is hope for humankind: when you compare it to its previous appearances you can see that it’s losing fingers. Soon we’ll be safe as Earth’s corrosive atmosphere causes it to dissolve altogether!

Mark Trail, 7/30/07

“And by ‘come check on you,’ I mean ‘shoot you in the face with his enormous shotgun.’ Don’t worry, I’ll be right here, lurking safely in the bushes until you distract him with your screams of agony!” Christ, it’s no wonder that Sam is attempting to withdraw her head into her shirt, turtle-like.

Family Circus, 7/30/07

Man, that’s a great, subtle expression of brief hope flickering out on the face of Pipey McMustache there. It’s almost a little cruel to drag it out in a rerun to make him feel that disappointment again.