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My Cage, 9/4/08, and New Adventures of Queen Victoria, 9/3/08

I never claimed to be some kind of paragon of integrity or anything, so, here you go, comics artists: if you mention me by name in your strip, I will acknowledge it in my blog, because I’m a whore like that, though sometimes I’ll be a day late. This is the New Adventures of Queen Victoria, a pleasingly wacky vaguely-historically-themed public-domain-clip-art-based strip that is on the GoComics site (and maybe in newspapers?). It’s usually not as meta as this installment, though you know I love meta. It’s far enough away from the traditional daily strips that I mock here to get regular attention, but I did finally pop it into my RSS reader. Take a look, won’t you?

Speaking of meta, the characters in My Cage are coming perilously close to recognizing their own fictional nature. Hopefully it’s not my site serving as the locus of their eternal torment when the Cartoonists turn their back on them.

Family Circus, 9/4/08

Speaking of those rejected by their Creator, we have Jeffy desperately trying to get the attention of the benevolent God that he still believes to exist, despite the evidence of his own torment. It doesn’t matter how loud you shout, Jeffy! You’re always going to have to debase yourself with awful puns and wear the hideous purple union suit, because that is His inscrutable plan.

Apartment 3-G, 9/4/08

And speaking of whores, Apartment 3-G continues its policy of darkly hinting at the lows to which drug abuse can bring you without actually spelling anything out. “Time to get out there and make some money … at my job as a middle manager in the accounts receivable department of a mid-sized corporation! Oh, there’s no level of depravity I won’t stoop to so I can get some more of that sweet, sweet dope!”

Herb and Jamaal, 9/4/08

You’ve probably missed it what with all the nonspecificity rampant in this strip, but the place where Herb and Jamaal crack vaguely wise with one another each day is a soul food restaurant that they own and operate together. Thus, the fact that Herb has dragged his ennui-inducing diet lunch to the restaurant to eat ought to tell you something about the stuff that our dynamic duo serve to their customers. “I mean, a carrot and juice is pretty bland, but God knows I’m not eating the horror that we cook here. I’d be dead of colon cancer within the week.”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/4/08

A casual observer might think that Rex and June are gently mocking Lenore in this exchange, but longtime RMMD readers know that they’re actually seeing who can inflict the most passive-aggressive wound on the other here. June taunting Rex with the prospect of sex with a woman, Rex boasting of his future “cabin boy” antics … good times. I have no idea what Rex’s plan for that thing in his right hand in the third panel is, and I’m not sure I want to know. The best we can hope for is that he’s going to stab himself in the throat to end his misery.

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Apartment 3-G, 8/21/08

Wow, I had always assumed that the Professor was a Professor of some squishy liberal arts discipline, but apparently it turns out that he’s a psychologist or something? And, naturally, now that he’s seeing patients again, it’s important that he cut that beard back to a goatee and bust out the Just For Men, because the last thing you need is a therapist who’s a shaggy old greyhair.

In panel two, the part of Ruby will be played by the severed head of Bette Davis.

Blondie, 8/21/08

“Hey, Dad, wanna hear another crazy idea? Maybe we should move the TV closer to the sofa so I don’t have to watch the Olympics sitting on the God-damned ottoman.”

Gil Thorp, 8/21/08

So, as near as I can tell, the lesson to this Gil Thorp storyline is going to be: “Minor league baseball, with its need for bus rides and farm-seeing, is all well and good if your only other choice is being deported to (gasp!) Mexico, but white kids should totally go to college instead.”

Herb and Jamaal, 8/21/08

Um … did Herb’s wife turn off the kinky as soon as they go hitched? That’s about the only interpretation of this I can come up with. That or she stopped supplying him with heroin.

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Herb and Jamaal, 7/25/08

I’ve been reading Herb and Jamaal for years now — long, boring years, in which the lack of specific references to anything have left virtually no concrete memories in my mind. Still, I’m pretty sure that this is the first time since I’ve been keeping up with the strip that we’ve met Herb’s mother. At least, I’m assuming this is supposed to be Herb’s mother, since his mother-in-law was complaining about her imminent arrival earlier this week. It could just be some middle-aged Jewish guy Herb’s reminiscing about his father with for some reason.

Mary Worth, 7/25/08

“Jeff, the only thing stopping us is ourselves! Darn us and our pathological inability to feel pleasure!”

I’ve been to some fancy seafood restaurants where they have the evening’s fish selections laid out on ice in a case for you to look at before ordering. The Bum Boat goes one better, apparently, by just nailing the catch of the day to the wall. That way, the elderly clientele won’t hurt their necks by bending down to look at it.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/25/08

“Ha ha, you’re right, I am making that up! I actually spent the afternoon having sex in the back of our car with some guy I met on Craigslist. I don’t think I buttoned my shirt up properly afterwards. Wait, did I just say all that aloud?”

Pluggers, 7/25/08

Pluggers don’t need real bifocals because the TV listings are the only thing they ever read.