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Funky Winkerbean, 2/3/11

In linguistic matters, I am a firm descriptivist rather than a prescriptivist. I believe that many grammatical rules waved about by pedants are poppycock based on Victorian-era grammarians who wanted to make English more like Latin. I also know that all languages slowly change in both grammar and vocabulary — if this weren’t so, we’d all be talking like Shakespeare, or we’d be able to read Beowulf in the original — and fighting against such change is pointless. Still, there are certain neologisms that set me off, and one of them is “quality” used as a synonym for “good.” My old roommate had this same reaction when people used “luck” to mean “good luck,” which I found hilariously overwrought, and I recognize that this is essentially the same linguistic phenomenon, and yet here I am, wanting to strangle Les, even more so than usual. I guess I just associate this use of “quality” with soulless corporate prose, and assumed that as an Important Writer Person Les would reject it with great smugness. I mean, there’s a gas station near where I live that has a huge sign that reads “QUALITY IS NOT AN OPTION — EXPECT IT,” which never fails to make me laugh, and I guess I’m discovering that my standards for Les are a little higher.

In other news, grad school-era Les was some kind of leering, sideburned megalomaniac, and it’s actually rather shocking that Ronnie bothered to seek him out.

Crock, 2/3/11

Since I relentlessly slam on Crock for being unfunny and terribly drawn, I feel obliged to admit that today’s installment actually made me laugh. I kind of love everything about it, from Preppie’s horrified nose-wobbling to the ugly dog’s smug post-obscene-gesture smirk in the final panel. I’m always fascinated by the fact that taboo words or gestures that cannot be depicted in mass media can be described or otherwise conveyed such that the reader knows exactly what’s been censored, like when only the vowels of swear words are blanked out on the radio. Probably the strip would be wholly incapable of depicting a dog giving “the paw” in a way that makes any kind of visual sense, but today at least that weakness is turned into a strength.

Judge Parker, 2/3/11

I dearly hope that our hitherto unseen sexy home-wrecking publicist is at the door, mangled, broken, still wearing her hospital gown, and trailing an IV behind her; she’s come to aggressively mate with a married author, as stipulated in Cheatham House’s standard contract. It would also be funny if that knocking were actually being produced by a woodpecker — a giant, sexy woodpecker.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/3/11

Berna, you don’t know the half of it! Look at those stitches across the top of his head — it looks like Dex finally got that brain surgery he always wanted!

B.C., 2/3/11

“Also, describe in graphic detail how his chitinous exoskeleton will shatter the moment the needle hits it!”

Panel from Mary Worth, 2/3/11

I used to love the Internet as well, but with this vision of Internet-apology swimming before me, all untrimmed fingernails and wobbly combed-over hair, I think I’ll destroy all electronic equipment in my house forever. Well played, Mary Worth!

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Judge Parker, 1/31/11

Oh my God, you guys, Judge Parker, I can’t believe I’ve been so slack in keeping you up to date on what’s happening in Judge Parker! One of this strip’s less charming M.O.s goes something like this: first it introduces a sexually attractive woman, then it makes her evil, then it destroys her, then everyone is smug about it. Apparently this is getting a bit dull, because in this latest storyline this sequence has played out entirely off-panel, as we heard a whole lot about the sexy publicity lady who was going to make Judge Emeritus Parker’s unreadable book a best-seller and also seduce him, then heard that she had been hit by a bus. And all this without us ever laying eyes on her and learning whether her breasts were ludicrously large or just very big!

Anyway, while we might not get to see our evil temptress, we will see all the rich people who rule the strip being smug about her downfall, because that is the Judge Parker version of the money shot. Look at Sam talking smugly on the phone in his hotel room! Look at Abbey trying to display a shred of human decency, but physically unable to suppress a smirk at a harlot getting her comeuppance! Aaah, that’s the stuff.

Mary Worth, 1/31/11

Say what you will about Mary Worth, but at least you can’t accuse it of presenting us with sexually attractive characters of either gender. Today’s weird diptych is a case in point. In both panels, the lavender clad ladies on the right are particularly mush-faced and deformed looking, while the orange-shirted gentlemen on the left look marginally more appealing, or at least like non-mutant humans. Thematically, though, the panels are mirror images: Dr. Jeff is making a final push to get Mary into the e-book age, while Wilbur seethes inwardly as his daughter flees the dinner table to eat in her room so she can play Angry Birds on her iPhone in peace. Look at how tightly Wilbur is squeezing his eyes shut! Is he imagining a world where Dawn loves him, and is eager to talk to him about her hopes and dreams as they share the orange spheroids he’s so lovingly prepared?

Beetle Bailey, 1/31/11

You might find it baffling that Beetle would consider a joke-telling robot an aid to America’s combat operations, but keep in mind that he’s been in the army over the course of five wars and hasn’t seen combat once, so his ideas of what would “help the war effort” might be a bit off. Also, you might find it strange that “Two young ladies met two guys” could be considered a “joke,” but remember that this is Beetle Bailey, which isn’t funny ever.

Funky Winkerbean, 1/31/11

Oh, yes, let’s introduce some other seemingly normal lady who wants to have sex with Les, that won’t be gross and distasteful at all.

Marmaduke, 1/31/11

“I think someone wants you to dig your own grave.”

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Dick Tracy, 12/8/10

Oh, hey, Dick Tracy has been happening! The new plot involves Dick taking an inhuman maniac mass murderer, who’s wearing a terrifying gimp mask that also kind of looks like a toaster, to his sentencing, for reasons too unrealistic and dumb to go into here. However, I thought today’s strip was worth mentioning because of Dick’s dialogue in panel one — “Doctor, or whatever you are.” “I mean, I didn’t look at your CV or anything before they put you, draped and shackles and fetish gear, in the back of my low-slung sedan. Are you a medical doctor? Should I call you ‘professor’? Alls I know is that a depraved monster like you had to come out of the so-called ‘higher education’ system.”

Judge Parker, 12/8/10

Sam being garden variety smug about his wealth and privilege is all good fun. But Sam being smug about how his friend Judge Parker wrote especially erotic sex scenes involving his fictional stand-in, “Hank Austin,” and a beautiful assassin? That’s … that’s kind of gross, actually.

Mary Worth, 12/8/10

Obviously Jill’s drunken tirade wasn’t going to end nicely, with her storming out in a huff. I think that we all should have realized that the only way she was going to leave this hideously decorated reception hall was by being dragged out bodily, raving like a lunatic, clinging to her precious, precious bottle of wine. As usual, Jill’s apparent emotional state is all over the map: in the first panel she’s all rage, but in panel two she looks genuinely terrified, convinced that Adrian is making a terrible, fatal mistake. She reminds me of nothing so much as the final scene in the original Invasion of the Body Snatchers:

YOU’RE NEXT, ADRIAN! YOU’RE NEXT! Foolish Jill — did you not realize that you’re already in a room full of pod people?

Pluggers, 12/8/10

Dear Pluggers: If you’re trying to make a double entendre like this, keep in mind that we look at the cartoon before we read the caption, which kind of ruins the effect. Also: never, ever make a double entendre again, for reals.