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Beetle Bailey, 5/3/07

Sarge’s attempts to avoid attachments with women while remaining ambiguous about his own preferences are becoming increasingly heart-rending. Even his faithful dog is trying to get him paired off into safe, Army regulation-approved heteronormality.

Archie, 5/3/07

You’re close, Archie-Laugh-Generating-Joke-Unit 3000, but the punchline is only funny if Archie is actually doing something positive for Mr. Lodge, albeit accidentally. Otherwise it’s just a baffling nonsequitur, or an implication that Archie is a Christ-like figure with mystical healing powers, neither of which are ideal.

Family Circus, 5/3/07

Oh, they start them young with the arbitrary gender markers in the Keane household, yes sir.

Blondie, 5/3/07

Speaking of gender arbitrariness, I’m sure Blondie is just thrilled that Dagwood’s chronic narcolepsy suddenly means that she has to cook breakfast for three. I imagine she’s just getting that pan nice and searing hot before she starts braining people with it.

For Better Or For Worse, 5/3/07

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Wait, that’s not really fair. It’s hard to work yourself up to ask someone out, and … no, hold on, I was right the first time. HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!

Also, Mark Trail has consisted of a lot of nattering about birds and airports and crap like that for the last few days, but I thought you’d be interested in a certain similarity of body language between today’s final panel and a strip from last week:

Damn, everybody wants a piece of this handsome outdoorsman!

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For Better Or For Worse, 5/1/07

Actually, I’m pretty sure I can’t say it any better than I did on the previous metapost: AAAAHHHH NOOOO THE MUSTACHE NOOOO.

The dialog in the first couple of panels is a little hard to parse, but it seems to be implying that Elizabeth is a bridesmaid, yes? That’s nice, considering that Shawna-Marie last appeared in the strip more than two years ago (at which time I quite gratuitously called her a “Québécois hillbilly”), and then appeared only as a vehicle to talk shit about the Mustache’s wife.

I also like the quote marks around “cream.” That way we know she’s really saying “slut.”

Archie, 5/1/07

Ah, Archie-Laugh-Generating-Joke-Unit 3000, someday you’ll pass that Turing test! But today is not that day, my bleeping mechanical friend. Obviously, the teacher’s gist is not hard to follow, but apparently the ALGJU 3000 was given some kind of upper limit to the number of words to its punchline, since the joke has been compacted into a sentence no human would ever utter.

It’s a good thing the word balloon was kept small, though, as otherwise we wouldn’t be treated to that vast expanse of empty wall.

Gil Thorp, 5/1/07

Surely Clambake’s “home remedy” will involve some ungodly country-style poultice made out of cornstarch and crawdad juice, but I’d love to see him say, “Here’s my home remedy: get the ball over the damn plate, kids. Now go get Clambake some whiskey.”

Judge Parker, 5/1/07

Here’s my new nickname for Cedric: He’s the butler who shared too much. Cedric, I know you’re all young and hip and a “new generation of domestic servant” or whatever, but the whole point of being a butler is that you completely fade into the background. No sign of your personality should be evident to those for whom you buttle (note: “buttle” is an actual verb). If you must have a sex life, it should revolve around service to your employer, as Groves’ does. At no point should a simple heavily-armed back alley rescue-and-extraction devolve into an animated description of your various kinks and/or fears about mortality. With this kind of attitude, you’re going to remain a temp forever.

And now, a couple of jokes about Cedric’s freaky-looking right hand in panel three.

Joke one: I’d be worried about growing old too if the arthritis in my hand were as bad as Cedric’s!

Joke two: In panel three, Cedric is flashing the sign of his gang, the “Cradle Robbers.”

Mark Trail, 5/1/07

Poor Rusty doesn’t understand that he’ll never be able to go anywhere with Mark. That’s why there’s the electric fence around the cabin: so that nobody in the outside world will accidentally look upon his hideous, misshapen face.

Marvin, 5/1/07

You know what would be funnier? If this joke were used in Momma!

See, Momma is often about an old woman and the old men who try to woo her and …

OK, you know what? That was probably over the line. I apologize. Carry on.

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Archie, 4/30/07

I was going to say that coming up with a spoof of the Gap called “the Goop” was the funniest incidental gag I had yet seen in the Archie newspaper strip, but then I realized how very, very low my bar for this feature has been set and I got kind of depressed.

Either the Goop has wowed the fashion world this season with a new line of clothes made entirely out of lead, or the strain of trying to keep Riverdale’s hottest brunette and hottest blonde emotionally and sexually satisfied has sapped Archie’s man-essence and left him a feeble weakling. Either way, Dilton is rightfully horrified.

Mark Trail, 4/30/07

Some commentors seem to think that this supposed to be a response to my claims that Mark is gay; in fact, I’ve never asserted anything of the kind. Rex Morgan? Gay. Beetle and Sarge? Very gay. But Mark Trail? Mark is completely asexual. His desire for physical intimacy with other human beings regardless of gender is either entirely absent or buried so deeply by psychological trauma that he only gets aroused by peeping in on frogs and birds while they do it. Frankly, today’s strip does not disabuse me of this notion. I dare you to imagine Mark’s right hand in panel two as about to do something erotic without shuddering.

Ballard Street, 4/30/07

At first glance here, I assumed that Scooter was imitating his Wall Street heroes’ habit of celebrating business victories with a little nasally-ingested stimulation. I still think that version is funnier.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/30/07

I’m very excited about the potential feedback loop being set up here: Rex stalls Hugh, then Hugh says something condescending that makes him sound like a pompous jackass, which pisses Rex off and makes him all the more determined to delay him. This could go on for weeks, with each strip ending with a sitcom-style muted horn going “Wanh Wahn WANNNH”. Eventually, Rex will just be walking in place somewhere in the bowels of the garage, mime-style, while Hugh berates him.

This isn’t the first time someone’s let lose an aside like Hugh’s within earshot of Rex, though usually it’s in regard to his medical procedures. “I’m sure it’s the kidney … or maybe the liver?” “Well, which one is it man?” “Maybe it’s the spleen!” “Of all the incompetent…”