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Family Circus, 4/10/09

Don’t believe her, Jeffy! She claims that the mystical orb she holds is the key to spiritual enlightenment, but its roiling inky blackness tells a very different story.

Luann, 4/10/09

I don’t know if I’d call a guy who can however briefly be in two places at once “pathetic.” “Unsettling,” maybe.

Ziggy, 4/10/09

I was pretty shocked to see that Ziggy has a vanity plate that reads ZIGGY, because I always assumed that he lived his life under the constant, crushing burden of the shame of being Ziggy. If he doesn’t, he should.

Spider-Man, 4/10/09

The Spider-Man comic strip in a nutshell: Our terrifying supervillain, concerned about his son and determined to wreak revenge on the city, takes some time out to hang out in somebody’s cubicle and eat a sandwich.

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Mary Worth, 4/2/09

Always working on self-improvement, Mary has managed to upgrade the contents of her thought balloons from simple text-based information to a full multimedia experience. I was going to say that she really needs a hobby, but then I realized that figuring out better ways to obsess over other people’s problems so as to help her forget her otherwise empty life is her hobby.

Luann, 4/2/09

Does anyone else remember how, years ago, Greg Evans had his readers vote on whether Luann was going to go to some dance with either Gunther or Aaron Hill? I seem to recall that either Aaron won the vote, or Gunther won the vote but then Luann went with Aaron to the dance anyway. My point is that in panel three Gunther is right: he is unloved either by the majority of the people who read about his life or by his creator.

Marmaduke, 4/2/09

It’s natural that Marmaduke’s owner is confused. For most of us, being transported by our demonic pet through a mystical portal into some kind of hell-dimension of eternal torment would be an unfamiliar experience, and we wouldn’t have any idea what was happening until too late.

Marvin, 4/2/09

It’s been a painful experience for Marvin’s grandparents to have lost all their money and move due to financial necessity in with their daughter and her family; the worst part is that they have to live with Marvin, obviously. But still, multigenerational homes are traditional in much of the world, and there’s opportunities for real wisdom to be passed on. For instance, today Marvin is learning that human vanity does not fade with age, but rather only becomes more ridiculous.

Spider-Man, 4/2/09

Ha ha, Spider-Man told a “not” joke! These were very popular twenty years ago or so.

Mark Trail, 4/2/09

“But first, we’ve got $500 to spend! That will sure buy a lot of khaki and neckerchiefs!”

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Gil Thorp, 3/28/09

“Hey, Josh,” you’re probably wondering, “How did the winter Gil Thorp story finally play out?” Well, Gil managed to convince the Larkins (who are black) that it would be racist to move back to New York City to take a lucrative job that would help Mr. Larkin get his career back on track, and take the family away from the awful town where the kids are dating juvenile delinquents! Brenda Larkin marked the permanence of her presence in Loserville, USA, by blowing a key shot in the big game, thus keeping the Lady Mudlarks out of the playdowns, again. (The boys’ team’s fate wasn’t even discussed, so presumably they weren’t even in contention.) Then a career criminal, Ted Ex Machina, confessed to the convenience store hold-up that put all this in motion. And today, the one bit of whimsy and joy this plotline has given us — the fact that Ashley got robbed of a case of Nutboys (“It’s Nutty!”) — has been retroactively erased in Orwellian fashion. THEY WERE NUTBOYS, DO YOU HEAR ME? NOT ZAGNUTS! NUTBOYS! Now, for the love of all that’s vaguely wacky, let’s move on to baseball season.

In the final panel, we have confirmed what we’ve known all along: that Milford is a sort of Jerusalem for everyone who’s given up on doing anything with their lives.

Family Circus, 3/29/09

I’m not sure what’s sadder: that the Keanes view representational art as sacrilegious, and thus only decorate their otherwise blank walls with exuberance-restricting commands in terrifying blackletter font, or that said commands are so routinely disobeyed in the Keane Kompound, which is best known for the sounds of morons shrieking malapropisms.

Luann, 3/29/09

“You’ll be making crepes for me. While I wait in bed. Your bed. Which is where I’ll sleep, after I’ve captured and subdued you with my muscular, prehensile head-tail. Even now, it’s curling and uncurling at the tip, in eager anticipation of the moment when it will strike and wrap around you with its anaconda-like strength.”

Apartment 3-G, 3/29/09

“Aunt Carol thinks that being a child of divorce, like pretty much half of everybody in America today, and having a father with a lucrative medical career is the equivalent of growing up in a squalid refugee camp in the middle of a war zone! Aunt Carol has absolutely no God-damned sense of proportion.”