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Gil Thorp, 2/5/07

It’s good to see that the revolutionary struggle that Steve Luhm and Hadley V. Baxendale waged for gender equality two years ago has transformed Milford High athletics into a gender-blind paradise. Hadley and Steve may have left Milford behind for higher learning at Vassar (where they are pursuing degrees in Women’s Studies and Anthropology, respectively), but their legacy is felt as the boys prepare to go cheer on the Lady Mudlarks in a nurturing, mutually supportive environment. More troubling is the … precipitation … in the first panel. Is that confetti coming down in the middle of the game against New Thayer? Or … snow? Is it snowing indoors? My God, has the girls’ athletic program, in budgeting decisions forced by the ultra-liberal 9th Circuit Court of Appeals’ interpretation of Title IX, eaten up the resources that should by rights be used to patch the roof on the gym where manly competition takes place? DAMN YOU, FEMINAZIS! DAMN YOU TO HELL!

Slylock Fox, 2/5/07

This edition of Slylock Fox presents an intriguing meeting of the realistic and the cartoonish, as the bowler-cap-and-shorts-wearing bright yellow Max Mouse peers nervously through the gloom at his much more lifelike feral counterpoint, who presumably spends less time aiding detective work and enjoying co-ed sleepovers with lady mice named “Melody” and more time eating garbage and being poisoned. Similarly pleasing and realistically drawn is the sinister, multitentacled furnace. As for the mystery itself, the solution is rather clever, though I imagine that whoever comes down to turn the furnace on will be less likely to provide clues to Slylock and Max to help them catch the thief and more likely to shriek and try to hit them with a broom.

B.C., 2/5/07

Ha! It’s funny because … there’s … a pit with a huge pile of … dismembered human legs. Or, um, parts of human legs, anyway. Um. Funny. Ha. Um.

Curtis, 2/5/07

Dear Curtis:

• Compton.
• Philly.
• The distance between the two.

Here to help.

The Family Circus, 2/5/07

Years later, renowned developer William Keane, a close friend to the Secretary of the Interior, stood on the ridgeline and watched the bulldozers do their work, transforming this part of the former Yellowstone National Park into the Estates at Yellowstone™. As the formerly rugged ground was graded into the smooth surfaces necessary to build the broad arterials, looping drives, and nestled cul de sacs that would define the geography of this exclusive suburban community, a small smile played across his lips, as if some ancient anger had finally been soothed.

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Dennis the Menace, 1/25/07

I’ve remarked earlier that Joey’s main purpose in life seems to be to make Dennis look like a bad-ass by comparison; as Dennis has grown increasingly cuddlier, so Joey is forced to become ever more innocuous. It seems that his level of friendly harmlessness has reached a point that is dangerous to his physical and emotional health. I’m not sure if Joey is supposed to be weeping openly because of some perceived slight from one of his thicker-skinned friends, or if he’s just covering his eyes in a sad and desperate attempt to cut off all external stimuli (because if he can’t perceive the actions of others, he can’t have his feelings hurt!), but I’m worried about the guy.

Speaking of breaking easy, those freakishly thin bird-like legs look like they’d snap like twigs if you looked at them wrong. Or maybe his legs are long gone and those are second-rate prostheses made from broom handles.

Gil Thorp, 1/25/07

There’s nothing particularly exciting or ground-breaking about today’s Gil Thorp, but it seem to really exude the vibe that makes me love it so. There’s ex-hobo Ted Pearse in his groovy thrift-store vintage shirt; there’s the weirdo taunt that no teenager would ever utter, ever; there’s the slow-burn reaction to same on the part of the one of the dimmer characters; there’s the typical use of “the Bucket” as part of a barely veiled sexual euphemism; and there’s lots of very oddly drawn hair and foreheads. Pure bliss.

Garfield, 1/25/07

Oh, hell no. Bucky’s innocent and wholly accidental marijuana legalization campaign gets censored across the country, and this filth gets a pass? There ain’t no justice.

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Mark Trail, 1/23/07

Hmm … “Mark, this is Dick … the beaver we trapped is back!” Oh, close enough. Welcome back into my heart, you crazy beavers! All is forgiven!

I love Mark’s goofy, heavy-lidded grin in the final panel. “Yeah, that Dick … he’ll shoot a beaver, all right … no warning … those kids should be worried … he’d shoot the kids too … Rusty and … the other one … the little girl … what’s her name … oh, Christ, I am so wasted.”

Gil Thorp, 1/23/07

Ah, it’s another fabulous Gil Thorp crowd scene, this time brought to you by M.C. Escher. The Lady Mudlarks’ five fans are in full effect, showing their apathetic love in the center of the yawning, featureless abyss that is the Milford gymnasium. Lisa’s mom, who is usually right, apparently thinks that only her patented wacky Mussolini impression will get this crowd fired up. That having failed, in panel two she manages to bend the nature of reality itself, and Blondie McBuzzcut looks up in confused terror as she manages to get her arm in front of his face in defiance of ordinary spatial dynamics.

Speaking of panel two, Person Of Indeterminate Gender Wearing A Fur-Trimmed Jacket And Hat Even Though He Or She Is Inside is back! It’s good to see that Lady Mudlark fever is chronic, if not infectious.

I might be more hip to the nuances of the thrilling “But…” in panel three if I were more intimately acquainted with the meanings of high school basketball referee hand signals. But all in all, I’m pretty glad I’m not.

Spider-Man, 1/23/07

Spidey’s been in the midst of a wholly uncharacteristic crime-fighting spree this week, but don’t worry: it’s just a cover-up for his usual whiny marital angst. I’m not sure how you pronounce “?”, but I can guess why he’s trying; I don’t think any member of the actual criminal element has used the phrase “plugged nickel” in, well, ever.

Pluggers, 1/23/07

No. No. If some aspect of being a plugger is contingent on being literate, then … everything I know about how the world works is meaningless.