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The Lockhorns, 3/22/07

I know this isn’t really going out on a limb, since everyone in the Lockhorns (except for the statuesque blondes that Leroy is always drunkenly flirting with at parties) is pretty much the same person except for the clothes and hair, but: doesn’t Loretta’s mother look exactly like Leroy, except with, um, different clothes and hair? For some reason, their resemblance is especially creepy to me because her hair looks exactly like the wig that Norman wears when he turns into Mother in Psycho. So, even though it’s unlikely, what with their both being in the panel here and all, I’d like to believe that Leroy becomes “Mother-in-Law” when his internalized mental anguish forces him to kill. This feature would be better if there were more stabbings, is what I’m trying to get at.

Apartment 3-G, 3/22/07

The thing is, I’m not sure what Margo would find “sweet” — when a man kills for her? — but I’m willing to bet it isn’t the kind of mopey, passive-aggressive poor-me game that Gary is playing here. I guess she might think it’s “sweet” in the sense of “isn’t that sweet, my dopey roommate has attracted someone who’s an even bigger loser than she is.”

Funky Winkerbean, 3/22/07

GOD DAMN IT, FUNKY WINKERBEAN, WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE DAMN CANCER WITH YOU? CANCER CANCER CANCER! THERE ARE OTHER KILLER DISEASES, YOU KNOW! WHY CAN’T IT BE AIDS? OR EBOLA? GIVE IT A REST WITH THE DAMN CANCER ALREADY? CHRIST!

Judge Parker, 3/22/07

Wow, so this is what it eventually comes to for humanities Ph.D. students? And I thought my occasional stints as a temp doing filing or reception work were beneath my dignity. Looks like I got out of grad school just in time!

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For Better Or For Worse, 3/17/07

Oh yeah, Gerald an’ April are gonna be at home all by themselves. And they’re going to “practicing.” And I think you and I both know what they’ll be practicing. That’s right: they’ll be practicing talking like actual fifteen-year-olds, rather than robots programmed by a sixty-year-old to say things like “make some green,” “the kiddies,” and, of course, “practice.”

Beetle Bailey, 3/17/07

For those of you who don’t know, a “magnum” is a one-and-a-half liter bottle of wine or champagne, which is twice the usual size. Thus, General Halftrack is merely proposing to drink himself into a stupor so as to at least briefly obliterate from his mind the hellish reality of the marriage he hates, and is not openly contemplating some kind of murder-suicide scenario. It’s still plenty grim, though perhaps not as off-putting as his flesh-colored mustache in panel two.

Curtis, 3/17/07

Clearly there’s some kind of off-panel donkey defecation going on in the first panel of today’s Curtis, but I have to admit that I’m disturbingly fixated on Curtis’ unfinished sentence. Why do you think they call it what? What? Is there some proverb or turn of phrase or bit of folk wisdom that involves donkey poop?

Judge Parker, 3/17/07

Wow, look at the expressions of utter panic on the faces Neddy and Abbey as they grapple with the concept of having missed their stop. If rich Americans, who are clearly the best and smartest people in the world, can’t handle the complexity of public transit, how in the world do the poor foreigners who ride it consistently make it home alive? Here’s a hint, kids: the train goes both ways along its whole route. You could just get off and get back on going back the other direction until you return to your stop, and not have to wander through whatever horrifying slumscape you’ve inevitably ended up in.

If you can’t tell, I’m growing more and more contemptuous of these two with each passing moment that they manage to further botch the relatively simple task of taking the train; thus, I am now openly rooting for the sinister punk rockers, and firmly believe that our pair of innocents abroad will deserve what they get. Fortunately, the evil punks probably don’t have anything sexually deviant planned for their victims, since, despite all evidence, they apparently believe that Neddy and Abbey are men. Yes, “Ils regardent la carte,” as Mohawk Punk puts it, means “They’re looking at the map,” but the “they” is masculine; the feminine would be “elles”. I don’t mean to imply that I’m some big expert Frenchie-talker — I was in charge of parlezing the vous when we were in a remarkably punk-rocker-free Paris a few years ago, and Mrs. C. will be happy to tell you how badly that went — but the ils/elles distinction is something you literally learn in the first week of French class.

Slylock Fox, 3/17/07

The most disturbing thing about this Slylock Fox? It’s not the fact that the cow has, in a burst of unnatural strength, managed to leap across a road; nor is it the cow’s unprovoked attack on the terrified rabbit, despite the fact that two species are not traditionally antagonistic towards each other. No, it’s the heavy-lidded, unfocused expression on the cow’s face, combined with the lolling tongue. That cow is high as a kite, and I don’t just mean literally.

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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.