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Gil Thorp, 7/22/09

You know how sometimes you get wind of the fact that they’re making a sequel to a movie you loved, and you allow yourself to get all excited about it, even though you know, deep in your heart of hearts, that it will probably never live up to the magic of the original? And you go to it and pay good money, hoping that among the Terminator: Salvations and Ghostbuster IIs you’ll have stumbled upon that rare Godfather: Part 2? Well, that’s how I sort of feel about the bubbling storyline here, in which Coach Kaz, P.I., is being urged to reprise his role from the utterly awesome summer of 2007, in which he stopped rock-and-roll legend Gail Martin from being harassed by her Ben Franklin-esque drummer. What Kaz, doesn’t mention, as he and Kelly enjoy their mid-up-scale dinner at Ricoze (called “Rico’s”, back when it was only mid-scale), is that he didn’t crack the Martin case by luck — he cracked it by hiring an actual detective to do the work for him. Perhaps he never admitted this to Gil in all the grandiose tales he told about that fateful summer?

Anyway, if there’s anything that makes me hopeful about a return to ’07-level awesomeness, it’s panel one here, in which Coach Kaz is lounging casually around in his Wayfarers, enjoying summer to its fullest. But remember, back in those heady days, Gil was teaching a kid who had accidentally cut off his own legs to box, and that was only the B-story. It’s going to be a tough act to follow.

Dennis the Menace, 7/22/09

This would be a good time for Mr. Wilson to be portrayed with his archetypical single bead of sweat; instead, his brow is dry and his eyes are thoughtful, if shifty. It’s almost as if he’s broken through years of anxiety and emotional turmoil on the subject of his irritating neighbor, and has reached a place of clarity; now, he’s attempting to apply rationality to the problem, beginning by contemplating the best places to stash the body.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 7/22/09

While the punchline in today’s Snuffy Smith is easy enough to parse — “Ha ha, the residents of Hootin’ Holler are subsistence farmers living in a pre-industrial economy” — I’m not sure what to make of the visual in the second panel, in which we see that the Smifs’ shack is perched at the end of a rocky, isolated outcropping. Are we meant to understand that relying only on local food sources and cutting ourselves off from the larger industrial food chain is like wobbling precariously at the edge of a cliff of starvation? Or that if these simple hill folk can extract sustenance from their boulder-strewn soil, surely we can too?

Judge Parker, 7/22/09

“I’m also concerned that your life vest is inflating! That shouldn’t happen until you’re out of the plane and in the water!”

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Luann, 7/14/09

You might think that being a big-shot semi-professional comics-mocking blogger is all fun and games, but I suffer for my art, and for you, my faithful audience. If you doubt the extent to my suffering, consider this: while most of you probably read today’s Luann and allowed an icy shiver to travel the length of your spine for a moment before moving on to something that didn’t make you doubt the existence of a loving God, I’ve spent most of today trying to figure out something to say about it, because, despite my previous declaration of disgust on this point, I sort of feel obliged to do so. Here’s the best I could come up with: I dearly hope that Brad and Toni are unable to back away from the implications of their cut-rate ham-handed “suggestive” dialogue and end up screwing right there on the sidewalk, at which point they’ll be arrested for public lewdness, thrown in jail, and murdered by revenge-minded but dimwitted criminals who can’t distinguish between firefighters and police officers. Next, a similar sequence of events polishes off Luann and Gunther, Tiffany and Quill, and most of the rest of the cast, with the strip being refocused on the adventures of Puddles the dog and, oh, let’s say Knute.

Beetle Bailey, 7/14/09

By comparison with the above, it’s been a joy to contemplate the pink tubelike form of naked General Halftrack. Ha ha, the general doesn’t like it when the doctor puts skin cream on his anus!

Judge Parker, 7/14/09

Long-time faithful readers of Judge Parker and this blog will remember that Randy’s ascendence to the position of Judge-Dictator of Parkerville, USA, began three years ago with an election race against the sleazy Reggie Black, whose main campaign strategy was to imply that Randy was gay. Randy emerged victorious, of course, by focusing on the issues, specifically on the issues that Reggie’s wife Celeste had with alcohol and rage. Anyway, poor Reggie, wherever he is, would probably love to have heard Randy admit that he doesn’t have any lady friends. Presumably, having learned well from his sensei Sam Driver, Randy has taken April to this romantic spot so that he can gaze wistfully out over the vista, with April eventually attempting to force his nose into her cleavage, to no avail.

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Gil Thorp, 7/9/09

Despite my many gripes about it, I genuinely, unironically enjoy Gil Thorp for any number or reasons, one of which is its tendency to bring back beloved characters from deranged storylines past. Today’s returning guest star is the wonderful Ted Pearse, first discovered in the ghetto of Milford in late 2005 teaching the kids straight-up streetball, which it turned out he was well acquainted with because he lived on those very streets, as a homeless person, which caused the Mudlarks’ rival schools’ fans to taunt him by dressing up as hobos at games. Anyway, it now appears that he’s gotten a haircut and moved up in the world, to the extent that he can make Gil’s eyes go wide with the prospect of gainful employment. Perhaps Ted has graduated from Oliver Twist to Fagin, and Gil will be forced to spend the summer picking pockets and running petty scams to earn his daily bowlful of gruel.

Judge Parker, 7/9/09

Speaking of beloved characters from the past, did you know that global warming prophet/awesome cheerleader Sophie has a hotter, older sister named Neddy? You wouldn’t if you’ve only started reading Judge Parker in the last two years! Neddy has been studying art in Paris for all that time, living in a fab French apartment that Abbey bought for her from one of Neddy’s bio-relatives on a whim for a seven-figure sum (don’t ask). Now she’s returning … and with a friend! This makes Sam look concerned, because he hates people and is suspicious of your so-called “friendship.” Who will this mysterious friend be? If we’re lucky, it will be Cedric, who was working as a temp butler in said Paris apartment when Abbey and Neddy arrived (DON’T ASK); Cedric is handy with a gun and had a 21-year-old wife who was jealously stalking Neddy because of his admitted thing for teenage girls. If we’re really lucky, it will be this charming sociology grad student/hooker.

Mary Worth, 7/9/09

Mary Worth, in contrast, exists in an eternal, timeless present. The current storyline happens, and is all that ever happens, and when it ends the guest stars are hustled off into the grey mists that hover at edge of Santa Royale. While some, like Aldo, are literally killed, others, like Chester the dog, and Von and Vera, and Ron the city councilstud, and what’s-their-name, the couple where the husband kept trying to keep his wife plump, simply vanish, never to be heard from or thought about again, while new victims are drawn out from the same ether that surrounds Mary’s reality. Are we honestly expected to believe that Delilah and Charlie are real people who existed before they walked on stage this month, despite the fact that those of us who’ve been reading the strip for nearly seven years now have never once heard of them? Poppycock. There are certain themes, certain moments of eternal return that do recur, however. We know, for instance, that deep beneath Mary’s helpful facade is a terrible rage waiting to be unleashed, and that, when you see the anger lines radiating from her as we do here, an awful vengeance is brewing. Mary, stuck in her timeless world, may not even know what she’s capable of, but we know. We know, and we wait with eager anticipation.

(Speaking of things that we faithful readers remember, those with fond memories of Aldomania may enjoy today’s Something Positive strip, though be warned that after viewing it you’ll never be quite right again.)

Crankshaft, 7/9/09

In other news, Crankshaft is using his summer job as an ice cream truck driver as an excuse to follow scantily clad young women around while furtively masturbating.