Post Content

Funky Winkerbean, 2/18/18

I assume that, like just about any working artist, Mopey Pete has a website with his email address on it. Soooo, the Chiseler … knows that email is private, right? That just because an email uses the infrastructure of the internet to deliver its message doesn’t mean that sending an email is the equivalent of posting it on Twitter or whatever? Does the Chiseler think that “the Internet” is just, like, a guy you whisper things to and he passes them along or makes them public, at his whim?

Hagar the Horrible, 2/18/18

I genuinely appreciate that this strip has graphically illustrated the violence that Hagar’s men have visited upon these local magnates in their insatiable lust for plunder. The dude in the cravat lost an eye. An eye! Look how satisfied Hagar is at having half-blinded him — with an arrow or a knife or maybe his thumb — earlier this week!

Mark Trail, 2/18/18

It’s nice to see that, after decades of living in a rough-hewn forest cabin, Cherry has finally decided to do a little decorating beyond just nailing rugs to the wall at weird angles. On an unrelated note, did you know if you were paid to draw the view from — just as an example — a hotel balcony on Harbour Island in the Bahamas, the amount of money it took you to pay for that hotel, as well as to procure transportation to and from that hotel, would be considered a business expense for tax purposes? Just putting that out there!

Post Content

Mark Trail, 2/11/18

Man, I’m going to be thinking for a long time about the phrase “a favorite within the public consciousness.” Aren’t you? The next time you dismiss the latest celebrity flash in the pan, won’t you be tempted to say “Fame is fleeting; what I’m looking for is to become a favorite within the public consciousness, you know?” Anyway, Mark long ago told us that elephants are murderous yam thieves, and now we can’t help but visualize dozens of dead sea turtles, rotting in an algae-choked Salvadoran lagoon, while distraught naturalists pick at their flesh trying to figure out what went wrong. Enjoy!

Dennis the Menace, 2/11/18

Gotta admit, it’s pretty menacing of Dennis to remind his father that, the endless parade of one-off houseguests who bear the burden of his darndest-thing-saying aside, the Mitchells only actually know eight people, and almost half of them are children.

Post Content

Mark Trail, 1/29/18

Meanwhile, a camping trip is happening not far from Lost Forest, but not, presumably, so close that this cozy domestic scene will soon be disrupted by trained circus beasts or whatever, so I guess this is a new storyline, or a new thread in the ongoing storyline involving bankrupt circuses and Dirty’s plans for revenge and such. The important thing is that this couple is not emotionally prepared for whatever hijinks are about to ensue at them, since they’re clearly hoping for a little R&R — drink beans out of a bucket, hit a log with an axe, that sort of thing. It makes a nice change of pace from the dental lab! I assume that the dental lab in question is where dentists send blood draws and the like for analysis, so it doesn’t even supply the go-go thrills of on actual dental office, where at least you might get to hear a patient try to suppress a scream now and then; but based on their weirdly prominent lines around this lady’s jaw and cheekbones, it might also be a secret laboratory where renegate dentists conduct experimental mouth transplant surgery.

Funky Winkerbean, 1/29/18

Bull’s CTE companion’s “Not in this universe!” rejoinder doesn’t make a ton of sense on its face, but I think the fact that it appears in a panel immediately after a patented Funkyverse photo album flashback is relevant here. After all, while I talk about the Funkyverse all the time, we really know that there are two Funkyverses: the whimsical high-school one that we enjoyed in the ’70s and ’80s, and the much darker one that has emerged over the past two decades. Perhaps some tiny event, as imperceptible as the breeze from a butterfly’s wings but crucial to the nature of reality, caused the original Funkyverse to diverge into two different timelines. In one, the one of joy and happiness, Bull played out his football days and his cartoon skull never felt any ill effects from repeated, cartoonish dings, any more than Wile E. Coyote ever suffered lasting harm from plummeting off a cliff. But that’s not how it works in this universe. Not by a long shot.