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Spider-Man, 2/7/11

Whoah, big surprise in Spider-Man today! No, it’s not the fact that newspaper Spider-Man has finally decided to cash in on Twilight mania; that was more or less inevitable. Nor should we be startled by the title character’s braggadocio over his epic sleeping prowess, since we’re all well aware that the sheer magnitude of his laziness is his only distinguishing feature. No, the shocker is that J. Jonah Jameson has decided to transform the Daily Bugle into a British-style tabloid, as we can see in panel two. Unfortunately, on day one the copy desk already used the only Britishisms they knew — “cheers” and “Yanks” and were forced to just slip a placeholding “something” in as the headline’s final word, hoping to cram in some BBC watching in time for tomorrow morning’s edition.

Shoe, 2/7/11

Speaking of the mass media, I’m pretty sure that this is the first time I’ve ever seen ostensible news-bird Cosmo actually perpetrating journalism in this strip. I’m not really sure why he’s filing his story from the Roz’s diner rather than the newsroom, unless the gruesome crime scene he’s describing is actually just off panel, and the characters’ favorite lunchtime spot has become a scene of unimaginable carnage, with corpses everywhere. Gory as the thought is, the strip at least deserves kudos for actually making its bird-world setting integral to the joke, for once.

Mark Trail, 2/7/11

Barely a year after managing to keep an inarticulate interrogative to himself, Mark Trail has apparently learned how to think exclamations without saying them. Soon he’ll be able to construct a sentence complete with nouns and verbs silently, entirely within his own mind — and then there will be nothing he can’t do.

Lockhorns, 2/7/11

Loretta doesn’t want Leroy passing out like last year, so she hid all the booze! Which is frankly pretty cruel. The only thing worse than a birthday party with no guests except the wife you hate is a sober birthday party with no guests except the wife you hate.

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Mark Trail, 2/5/11

Who says that Mark Trail compositions are clumsy and artless, mostly focusing on poorly dressed mannequins shouting at each other while disproportionately large photocopies of wildlife loom in the foreground? Well, everyone says that, really, but today’s strip is actually structured in a somewhat interesting way, with everyone gazing intently at what they most desire: Ben Smith at the precious smuggled diamonds, Mark Trail at the proof he needs to put a bad guy in jail (possibly after punching him), and Kelly at Mark himself. The fact that Kelly is disrobing as she wonders what Mark’s up to strikes me as significant.

Beetle Bailey, 2/5/11

Sarge’s body language — eyes shut, body completely stiff — seems to me indicative of total panic and mortification, but I think it’s cute that Beetle has downgraded this to “embarrassment.” I also think it’s cute that Beetle refers calls the gay porn clip they’ve downloaded a “love scene.” I leave open the question of what Sarge is referring to as “shooting.”

Gil Thorp, 2/5/11

Since Gil Thorp doesn’t run on Sundays, we’ve got quite an end-of-week cliffhanger set up here. What are Jefferson’s plans for Milford’s Number 11? More suspense might be generated if anyone anywhere knew any of the various Mudlarks’ uniform numbers.

Apartment 3-G, 2/5/11

Seeing as Trey and Margo are gazing soulfully into each other’s eyes as the car hurtles down the highway in the midst of a dense fog, perhaps Iris hasn’t so much fallen asleep as passed out from terror.

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Family Circus, 2/1/11

The thing I love about this Family Circus is how damn smug Jeffy looks. I’d like to believe it’s because he knows how stupid his brother’s chronological blather is, but you and I both know that Jeffy doesn’t have the brains God gave a bowling ball, so I’m guessing he’s probably anticipating dropping some of this hilariously misguided knowledge on his playmates, who will mock him mercilessly for it.

Jumble, 2/1/11

Is that one of the Simons from Simon and Simon, delivering the mail? He sure has come down pretty far in the world, which is probably why he’s thrusting those letters at this poor sap so angrily. Simon doesn’t care that you just inherited this house from your beloved mother and that those bills with her name on them break your heart, OK? Simon’s gotta work overtime to get his boat out of hock.

Panel from Mark Trail, 2/1/11

“…you see we are working on a story together … oh dear, my head appears to be stretching and melting like taffy. I think that means the mescaline is kicking in! I’ll talk to you both later!“