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Slylock Fox, 10/19/09

One of the things I like about Slylock Fox is the wealth of odd details that make it easy and fun to build the sort of counternarratives that are more or less my stock in trade. For instance, this may seem like just another bit of campground petty theft, but think about it for a minute: why, exactly, is this multi-species collection of critters out in the middle of the blasted wilderness with all their money, staying in a series of makeshift tents, not dressed properly for the weather? My guess: they were called out to this desolate spot by charismatic cult leader Reeky Rat, who promised that they would be taken up to the Great Sky City by the emissary of the Heavenly Aeon in a crystal Cloud-Ship, for which they would have to buy a ticket. If Reeky’s nephew Rodney had merely claimed to be collecting fares for the Sky-Journey, Slylock’s fancy ratiocination would be useless, as his mundane logic can tell you nothing about such higher matters.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/19/09

Hey, remember like a kajillion years ago when there was this Rex Morgan storyline where Pete the Chauffeur was supposed to be good, and then he turned out to be bad, because, I don’t know, it moved the plot along? Well, I’m sort of hoping that’s what’s about to happen here, because lord knows this is a plot that I very much want moved along. Tim’s line in the second panel is probably supposed to be a clumsy pass of the “If you were my wife, I’d love you so much that I’d hire ninjas to follow you everywhere! You’d never have a moment out of my control!” variety, but it would be more exciting if it were leading into “Pete ought to keep better track of you … because now he’ll have to pay a hefty ransom if he ever wants to see you alive again! MOO HA HA HA!”

Barring that, maybe it will be the first thing and Becka and Tim will just fall into an adulterous affair and forget all about his demented mother, who will settle into a wacky sitcom-style lifestyle with the golf pro and the punk rocker. “Hey, old man, I know you’re senile, but could you at least remember to light a match after you stink up the bathroom? This trailer isn’t that big!” “Are you ready for your golf lesson?” “I’m hungry! When are you going to feed us?” [CANNED LAUGHTER]

Lockhorns, 10/19/09

Some of the most unsettling Lockhorns installments are those where the title couple’s trademarked ennui-deadened hate is turned outward, rather than at each other. What, exactly, are Leroy and Loretta doing here? Clicking from link to link, noting the lies and falsehoods, both wearing a heavy-lidded expression that shows that they expected no better from this fallen world? That sad thing is that this may be the most romantic Lockhorns ever, if we accept “sharing an activity” as falling loosely into the “romance” category.

Marvin, 10/19/09

Ha ha, Marvin, wait until you find out that Ms. Landers will no longer be permitting you to spend the day sitting in your own putrefying feces! “What, we can’t shit in our pants anymore? Does she think this is Buckingham Palace or something?”

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Crock, 10/10/09

Oh, hi Crock! Thanks for stopping by to help serve as a cautionary example in my “how not to tell a joke” clinic! Here are some quick pointers:

• “One end of a phone conversation” jokes are tricky! You have to structure it such that it seems kind of natural, but the reader still gets all the information they need to piece together what’s going on. In fact, how you parcel out that information, revealing unexpected tidbits in interesting ways, is often at the heart of the sequence’s humor! Having the one person whose dialogue you can read or hear simply repeat back what the hidden interlocutor has just said sort of kills the magic.
• However, once you’ve established that we the readers can’t hear the person at other end of the phone conversation, and thus the person we can see will be supplying the dialogue for both participants, don’t change up the rules by supplying jaggedy word balloons out of the telephone’s earpiece. It’s confusing.
• Fat people tend to be spherical or oblong, rather than linear.
• A comic that consists of three panels of some dude talking on a phone against a grey background is not particularly interesting visually.

But hey, at least your punchline didn’t make light of torture or slavery!

Mary Worth, 10/10/09

“Of course, when I say ‘right behind,’ you have to keep in mind that the Earth is a sphere, and thus any seemingly straight line will, if you follow it long enough, simply bring you back to your starting point. In that sense, I’m roughly 25,000 miles behind you, which, on the vast scale of the entire universe, is barely any distance at all. I do concede, however, that by the mundane terms in which we usually view our day-to-day existence, I could more accurately be said to be ‘right in front’ of you. But our relationship is much more elevated than that, isn’t it, Jeff?”

Spider-Man, 10/10/09

Ha ha, we all think that the Sandman has mended his ways, but … the monster is forcing his innocent daughter to watch Jay Leno! Does this madman have no decency?

Marvin, 10/10/09

This week-long plot about the fact that it smells bad when you poop in your pants has climaxed with Marvin being punched in the face, and thus I take back anything bad I may have said about it.

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Family Circus, 10/8/09

If you’re like me (which is to say the sort of person who Thinks Too Much About Things, and is a little OCD), your first response upon seeing the numbers in today’s Family Circus was to whip out the old calculator, Billy-style, and see what kind of timeframe we’re talking about. 4,206 days is 11 years and 191 days! And one of the reasons I was curious about this figure is that I’m never entirely clear on how old any of the Keane Kids are supposed to be. It’s hard to tell, given their gnomish stature and obvious cognitive deficits, but, assuming that kids are still getting their license at 16 like they traditionally have, today’s numbers put Billy at four and a half years old, which struck me as wildly off, considering he’s supposed to be the oldest of four, and he and his little sister both go to school. Then I realized that there was a sure-fire way to determine Billy’s canonical age: the “drawn by Billy” panels, which, after a bit of searching through my archives, yielded up the crucial bit of data: Billy is 7, and so appears to be proclaiming that he won’t be getting his driver’s license until he’s 18 or maybe even 19! I feel bitter for him making me think about this as much as I have, but at least I get to point out that he either cheerfully expects to repeatedly fail his drivers test, or is incapable of doing math, even with a calculator.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 10/8/09

Speaking of things that irritate me all out of proportion to their actual transgressions, why does Barney Google and Snuffy Smith think we need a title card informing us that we’re going “shoppin’ wif th’ Tuttles”? Do they think that we’ll be dangerously disoriented by seeing the strip’s trademarked dialectical banter thrown about by a pair of risible hillbilly stereotypes who aren’t part of the strip’s core cast? Please, give us some credit. Most readers will see vaguely old-timey rustics crackin’ wise and droppin’ Gs from the ends of gerunds, smile wanly, and move on with their lives without troubling themselves to place the narrative in some larger context; Snuffy Smith devotees, meanwhile, will immediately recognize Hootin’ Holler’s sole pastor, and will be pleased to see that he remains a money-grubbing fraud.

Mary Worth, 10/8/09

Good lord, in the second panel, Dr. Jeff looks less like a father rushing to his daughter’s side to comfort her in her time of need and more like the leader of an angry vigilante mob, or perhaps like a majestic but enraged lowland gorilla. It’s almost as if he’s hoping that he’ll spot a heroin dealer or user on his drive to the hospital and have the opportunity run them down with his car. I was wondering why he was so worked up, but then remembered that Scott is, of course, the son of Dr. Jeff’s one true love. I can’t wait to see the bloody revenge he wreaks on Santa Royale’s comically dressed underworld!

Marvin, 10/8/09

Ah ha, I finally figured out what this week-long feces-plot is really getting at: it’s Marvin’s origin story! “And from that day on, the world knew him as … THE PANTS-SHITTER!”

Apartment 3-G, 10/8/09

Isn’t Margo’s dad supposed to be some rich businessman? Shouldn’t he be able to afford enough Just For Men to dye the hair on the sides of his head as well?