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Gil Thorp, 3/20/07

Some days, when I’m having a busy day, like I did today (I’m guest-blogging at Wonkette all week, by the way, and trying to get Mary Worth restored to the Washington Post in the process), I see dozens of comments come in about a particular strip before I see the strip itself. Sometimes all the build-up is more than a strip can bear, but panel two of today’s Gil Thorp was all I had been led to hope for and more. The sight of Tyler beating himself in the back of the head in some suburban alley — with the baffling motion lines turning the scene into an Escher-esque impossibility, and with the tiny moon floating behind him, making it look like he’s dislodged one of his own eyeballs — well, it’s pretty much the best thing I’ve seen today. I’d like to think that we’re seeing smack number four here.

Mary Worth, 3/20/07

Mary Worth was of course almost as entertaining, with her creepy finger-touching. It’s like she’s measuring Vera to make sure she’ll fit in the apartment. Or, actually, it’s like she’s Judy Davis in a straight-to-Showtime movie called “Suburban Madame,” and she’s checking out the new meat to arrive at her peaceful condo complex/brothel.

Apartment 3-G, 3/20/07

This is why Tommie and Margo need Lu Ann back so badly: it’s her well-meaning idiocy that holds the trio together. Never has the contrast between the two been so apparent as in the last panel: Margo, very, very high, vibrating like a tuning fork and popping out nonsensical questions because she can scarcely be bothered to focus enough to have an actual conversation, and Tommie, collapsing inward into her mopey core, looking like she’d be glad to slit her wrists if the prospect of failing even to do that right wasn’t so embarrassing.

Pluggers, 3/20/07

The plugger’s number two rule: Oh, just buy the semi-rotted fruit. You don’t deserve any better.

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Mary Worth, 3/13/07

Following hot on the heels of yesterday’s tush-grope fest, we find that Vera has learned something very important about interacting with Ben: don’t let him sneak up behind you, and guard your genitals at all time.

There’s something about the “ha-ha.”, complete with period, in the second panel of this strip that just disturbs the hell out of me. We can see why Ben’s doing so well at Creepy Lack Of Affect Advertising Agency, what with his unlaugh barely hiding his stalking intentions. “Surely you aren’t trying to escape me … and my grabby hands … just because I have access to your HR records and your old address … ha-ha.”

Slylock Fox, 3/13/07

You know, if I wrote a comic aimed at young children populated by anthropomorphic animals, I might gloss over some of the more disturbing aspects of the great web of life on this planet, but hey, Slylock Fox, don’t let me stop you from traumatizing millions of bunny-loving kiddies everywhere. This feature has never shied away from depicting various terrified prey animals in their natural habitat, but there’s something about the civilized setting here that just makes this so much wronger. What I wonder is: who did that big, juicy steak on Leo’s plate just get sliced off of? And who did the slicing?

Judge Parker, 3/13/07

Wait, are you two ladies moaning about what a pain it’s going to be to inherit four enormous European mansions? That’s it, I hate you, I don’t care how sexy you are. I hope you get mugged by punk rockers! Which you almost certainly will, in six to eight months.

Gil Thorp, 3/13/07

One of the things I love best about Gil Thorp is that I read it every day and I still don’t know what the hell is going on half the time. For instance, did you know that Snoopy Reporter Girl is also on the basketball team? I sure didn’t? Also, do you know her name? I sure don’t!

My very favorite thing about this strip is clearly the disembodied set of alien tentacles that’s perched on Rick’s shoulder in the first panel; fortunately, Snoopy Reporter Girl is a good four feet away and can flee if it attacks her. Also awesome is Rick’s casual diagonal leaning pose in panel three. When Von Haney did it on the radio, it signified extreme smugness, but here I think it denotes an increasing weariness at these bush-league Woodward and Bernstein antics — weariness surely shared by everyone following along at home.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/13/07

With all the talk of failed drug tests, this is probably the first patented Rex Morgan, M.D., up-the-nostril shot that’s actually kind of relevant to the storyline.

Pluggers, 3/13/07

A plugger’s contempt for local restaurateurs is matched only by his hostility towards his own circulatory system.

Dennis the Menace, 3/13/07

Dennis’ menacing hits yet another new low as he fobs off the task of antagonizing his baby-sitter — previously a core menacing competency — onto some random person on the phone.

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Herb and Jamaal and Wizard of Id, 3/3/07

OK, cartoonists, white and black alike, we get it, we get it. Rap music is a defining genre for a generation of young people, black and white alike, but you just don’t care for it. Feel free to intersperse your rants against rap among your rants about the fact that young people don’t seem to find the comics relevant anymore.

At least the admonishment in the Wizard of Id makes some vague sort of sense, since it takes place centuries before the birth of hip-hop. Presumably the rap aficionado is a time traveler from the future, being urged to keep quiet about his aesthetic choices lest he somehow alter the timeline and create a twentieth century Earth ruled by Hitler, or possibly by KRS-One.

Gil Thorp, 3/3/07

More proof that Marty Moon is from Mars and the Lady Mudlarks are from Venus. “Nothing seems to bother the girls”? Jeez, Marty, do you think they always look like a bunch of numb-eyed, emotionally stunted zombies? Oh, wait, this is Gil Thorp, I suppose they do.

Mark Trail, 3/3/07

Mark’s doing exactly the right thing here. When I took a swim safety class in high school, they taught us that you can save a drowning person just by believing in their abilities hard enough. Also, in a situation like this, you should never leave your breakfast unattended, because your bacon might get cold.