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Archie, 2/2/10

There are a number of unsettling objects that have spilled out of Jughead’s locker. It’s probably actually not unsettling to see that Jughead owns at least one spare crown-hat; I had (I think with some justification, based on his character) assumed that Jughead only owned a single hat, which was by this point frayed and stained with years of hair-grease. Any points gained for this are instantly lost, however, by the sight of that sandwich, which despite its many layers is cohering together as a single, immutable unit as it tumbles across the rubble, possibly due to its condiments having long ago congealed into a binding more powerful than concrete. And, of course, the less said about the tiny scale model of Archie as a double amputee the better.

Crock, 2/2/10

Wow, if you had asked me who Crock’s chief gag artist saw as his avatar in the strip, the loathed and incompetent leader of the Lost Patrol would not have been anywhere on my list. But I can sort of see the connection.

Marmaduke, 2/2/10

Ha ha, some namby-pamby liberal judge thinks that Marmaduke can be restrained from his usual horrors by an electronic ankle bracelet! At best, the device will merely offer the authorities the means to create a real-time map of his swath of devastation.

Mary Worth, 2/2/10

Even Wilbur is getting bored by the tales of his romantic failures, and so he decides to liven things up with a hearty Black Power salute. Soon afterwards, someone comes by and gives him a soothing scalp massage, if what I’m seeing in panel two makes any sort of sense in the Euclidian space-time continuum that I’m accustomed to.

Phantom, 2/2/10

So, it appears that the Phantom is going to use his presumed widowhood to go around boffing all the ladies who ever had eyes for him. We begin with Captain Savarna, who made eyes at him during the Crocco Adventure (no, really) that happened last year, and is now wooing him with her butt-sculpting “uniform” pants and strokeable phallic torpedoes. Later, our hero will presumably finally make the Jungle Patrol gals’ dreams of seducing their Unknown Commander come true. We’ll eventually find out how well the “But honey, I assumed you were dead!” approach works as a justification for infidelity, especially when the unfaithful partner doesn’t bother to do much legwork to actually confirm his widowed status.

Momma, 2/2/10

Based on what I’ve learned from Apartment 3-G, I’m guessing Momma is showing up for her weekly sex-for-pills appointment. The pinched look on her face indicates that she’s past the point of even pretending to enjoy it.

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Pluggers, 1/9/10

My wife has a theory that purse-snatchers should really focus their attention on men who have been forced by their significant other to hold onto said lady-friend’s purse for a few minutes, since they invariably treat it as if it were full of highly radioactive material, attempting to make as little physical contact with the purse as possible and holding it at arm’s length. Our gender-terrified plugger would make an easy mark for such a thief, as it looks as if he’d much rather lose some cash and spend and afternoon calling all his family’s various credit card companies than even briefly being mistaken for, I don’t know, a drag queen or something (OH AS IF HONEY).

Marmaduke, 1/9/10

I have always assumed that the thoughts running through Marmaduke’s head make up an unimaginable melange of nightmare and carnage that would drive any normal mind insane just to contemplate it for an instant; thus, I’m shocked that even Phil Hitler dares to ask the hell-beast’s opinion on matters sexual. Good luck with your rapid descent into madness, Phil!

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Crock, 1/6/10

I originally read the cook’s line in the opening panel as “I’ve been feeding the men dog for weeks.” This pleased me — not because I advocate dog-eating, but because I advocate the long besieging of the Crock characters in their fort by a murderous enemy, forcing them to eat first their emergency reserves of canned food, then their livestock, then their pets, then each other. If we’re only one step away from cannibalism, then we’re only one step away from the end of Crock.

Marmaduke, 1/6/10

From the stunned, disbelieving expressions on the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Hitler there, not unlike those of the Wicked Witch of the West’s guards when they realized that their terrible mistress had been liquidated, I’m guessing they’re interpreting “bought it” as a variation of “bought the farm,” and that they are hoping against hope that the hated Marmaduke has expired right there in the middle of this furniture store. This seems like the most likely interpretation of the phrase, as dogs as a rule do not have access to money, and they certainly don’t have access to the kind of money necessary to buy a nice couch. But in fact Marmaduke is an immortal demon-hound and cannot die. He probably just bought the couch with their credit card, which he borrowed from them when they weren’t looking.

Blondie, 1/6/10

I love the carpoolers’ expressions of mingled fear and uncertainty in the final panel here — exactly the expressions you’d expect from people who just heard one of their associates addressed by name by the radio. It’s as if they’re realizing that they exist as minor characters in someone else’s narrative — and that someone else is the irritating guy with the bizarre hair who’s always holding up the car pool.