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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.

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Mark Trail, 1/25/18

Wait, who is Doc talking to on the phone? We all know he doesn’t have any friends, and when it comes to romance Cherry has to basically exploit his love for his grandson to force him into sexual liaisons with the local ladies who lust after him. My theory is that this is a toy phone that Mark gave to him yell nonsense into so that passersby aren’t alarmed when he starts in with his shoutings again.

Family Circus, 1/25/18

Welp, it looks like Billy’s finally figured out that domestic labor is indeed labor — and in his case, since inadequate retirement savings often mean that parents rely on their adult children in retirement, any labor that helps raise his academic achievement level will have a quantifiable financial return down the line. A look at his parents’ facial expressions lets you know exactly who benefits from having the true nature of the economic system properly understood in the Keane Kompound.

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Mark Trail, 1/23/18

Immediately after his giraffe encounter, Rusty ran home to tell his adoptive parents about it, only to be berated at length that you’d have to be a crazy person to say you saw a giraffe in the forest and you must be dreaming or hallucinating like that time with the dinosaurs, so you should stop insisting you saw giraffes or you’re going to have to go live in the crawl space again. Of course, we know that there’s a whole dang circus loose out there, and so I sincerely hope that Mark, maintaining that smug, know-it-all facial expression, steps outside to prove to Rusty that Lost Forest is giraffe-free and is then immediately mauled by a lion.

Mary Worth, 1/23/18

Ha ha, is 2004 Democratic Party presidential nominee and former Secretary of State John Kerry Ted Miller going to steal Mary away from his old friend Dr. Jeff, right in front him? Notice that Mary is sure to welcome Ted “to my home,” emphasizing that she has long refused to marry, move in with, or commit to Dr. Jeff in any way.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/23/18

Rex is scowling in panel one, but thoughtfully, indicating that he might be open to allowing this Maoist self-criticism session to mollify him. Unfortunately, the Marches have made the decision to deploy youth slang, which he’s not going to appreciate at all.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 1/23/18

One of the things I’ve resigned myself to kind of enjoying is that printed matter that appears in Snuffy Smith is spelled in the same eye dialect used in the word balloons. Still, today’s strip is horrifying because it prompted me, unbidden, to imagine a context in which one of the characters might say the world “ballz.” Like, “Lukey, th’ next time we’re int’mite, I’m gonna ask Loweezy t’ tickle my ballz!” If I have to think it, you have to read it, which is, I suppose, this blog’s mission statement.