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Gil Thorp, 1/10/09

You may have noticed that I haven’t really commented on Gil Thorp lately; that’s because this storyline, which began with Nut Boy and armed robbery, has turned out to be total snoresville ever since. Today’s strip is noteworthy, though, in that it contains shocking images of Gil Thorp engaging in coaching — not in the usual sense of him holding a clipboard and collecting a paycheck in the general vicinity of high school athletics, but actually attempting to help a member of his basketball team with his play. Gil’s advice — “relax, you’ll be fine, and everyone else we have sucks even worse than you” — leaves a bit to be desired, I suppose, but it’s a start.

Meanwhile, the thirty-first participant in Brenda’s all-weekend sexathon has arrived.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/10/09

What I’m learning from this Rex Morgan storyline — in which the bored, angry passengers on this strike-stricken death boat are constantly demanding that somebody, anybody pour them a drink — is that the only thing stopping most cruise ships from degenerating into vomit-covered bacchanals are crewmembers trained in the fine art of cutting the lushes off gently. Hope for the livers of all involved has arrived in the form of this friendly off-duty bartender, who probably recognizes the symptoms of alcohol poisoning when he sees them and will start watering the drinks down accordingly. (As a side note, you may think it odd that a bartender would consider a navy blue suit and sharp red tie to be cruisewear, but one of the guys who bartended my wedding was an investment banker, so you never know.)

Lockhorns, 1/10/09

I must admit that I’m charmed by the evocative setting of today’s Lockhorns. Leroy and his nameless, emotionally numb companion are just alighting from the commuter train, heading into work on a chilly morning, carrying their briefcases and coffees. We’ve never really learned what Leroy does for a living; whatever it is, it apparently requires that he wear a baby blue smock for some reason.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 1/10/09

Snuffy Smith makes yet another acknowledgement of modern televised entertainment; however, this reference serves only to set up the main joke, which is that Hootin’ Holler’s sole religious institution apparently exists primarily to personally enrich its so-called “parson,” who cheerfully admits as much to one of the community’s most notorious lawbreakers.

Pluggers, 1/10/09

Pluggers redirect their suppressed sexual feelings towards their enormous, gas-guzzling cars.

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Lockhorns, 12/2/08

When I first started this blog, way back in the day, one of the things I was most perversely excited about was writing about the Lockhorns — I think I had this post written in my head before I had even set the blog up in the first place. Over time, I haven’t said as much about it as I have about other strips, but my weird admiration for its gung-ho commitment to marital heartbreak hasn’t wavered. Today’s installment features one of my favorite recurring aspects of the strip — Leroy and Loretta’s shared bleak, glum expressions, with eyes deadened by years of horror, as if they’ve just stumbled out of a concentration camp or something. Normally, a cartoon character about to have Dr. Blog’s finger up his butt would look comically anxious, but here Leroy just looks like he’s thinking, “Whatever. Nothing you can do can possibly wound my dignity more than my very existence already does.”

Loretta, meanwhile, is equally numb, for private reasons of her own. Maybe she expected to get a fleeting moment of satisfaction from Leroy’s prostate-exam-related panic, and is realizing that even that will be denied her.

Also, it appears that someone at Lockhorns central is fixated on airport security, and rectums.

(Also also: “Dr. Blog?” Really?)

Marvin, 12/2/08

Speaking of emotional devastation, I was pleased to see Marvin’s grandparents left completely shattered as their plans for retirement fall to pieces around them, but that’s just because I hate Marvin and want all of its characters to suffer horribly. Maybe they’ll have to move in with Marvin’s parents! And everyone will get on each other’s nerves, and Marvin will poop in his pants while thought-ballooning wryly! Oh, the hilarity.

Mark Trail, 12/2/08

Now, Mark Trail — there’s a guy who never lets things get him down! Why, here he is, tied up, being held at gunpoint by a dude named “Rabbit,” being handed over to a burly fellow with a Fu Manchu-ish mustache named “Salty” — and he’s keeping his cool! Almost as if he’s secretly pleased, for some reason. I can’t wait to see what happens next!

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Apartment 3-G, 11/25/08

You know, most people would be sick with worry for the safety of their loved ones if said loved ones were off on some mysterious but almost certainly dangerous mission way on the other side of the world. Thankfully for all of us, Margo is not most people, but is rather a gorgeous, tempestuous firecracker of a woman held tight in the grips of cocaine-driven paranoia. “The way I see it, Eric is either at the bottom of a ravine with a Chinese bullet in the back of his head, or whoring his way through every brothel in Lhasa — and he’ll be lucky if its the former.”

Spider-Man, 11/25/08

I’m not sure what’s more hilarious about today’s Spider-Man: that Big-Time’s real name is “Bigelow,” or that his flat-top Spidey-impersonator-for-hire is looking on in undisguised terror as he has a catty conversation with his ex-wife on his circa-1986 cordless phone.

(Bonus question: Is “Bigelow” funnier as a first name, or a last name?)

Blondie, 11/25/08

I’m pretty sure one of these guys has finally gotten up the nerve to make a pass at the other, only to have it fly by completely unnoticed; I’m just not certain which one was the passer and which one was the passee, yet.

Lockhorns and Hi and Lois, 11/25/08

In the new Great Depression, all comics will be about huddling together for warmth in the enormous suburban homes whose mortgages are so expensive that we can no longer afford to heat them.