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The Lockhorns and Marvin, 3/17/08

Usually, St. Patrick’s Day is considered a festive occasion, a celebration of Irish heritage, the extermination of paganism, and binge drinking. But two cartoons dared to use the day to explore the holiday’s darker side. For instance, what’s the origin of the myth of the leprechaun? Folklore experts will tell you that they’re the memory of the gods the Irish worshiped before St. Patrick came and made them all Christians, but the Lockhorns seems to indicate that perhaps their supposed gold-hoarding ways are a product of pure desperation. Loretta, staring glumly at the small piece of paper that says so much about financial ruin and public shame and prison, is so desperate for a way out that she latches onto the idea of tiny, imaginary spirit beings that can solve all their problems. Leroy, just as glum but still in touch with reality, can only look on in pained silence.

Meanwhile, an unimpressed Marvin has actually encountered one of the little Celtic sprites in the flesh, and boy, is he ever failing to live up to their reputation as adorable, happy-go-lucky creatures. His elfin visage instead tells a tale of depression and despair. I’m not sure if he never emotionally recovered from watching thousands of his countrymen die during the Hunger, while he, immortal and half-forgotten, could do nothing, or if he was interned for years without trial at Long Kesh by the Brits as a suspected IRA man, but he looks like he’s about to slit his tiny, pixie-like wrists.

Dick Tracy, 3/17/08

Man, it’s too bad that goth kids don’t as a rule read Dick Tracy, because “So you think I’m ugly? What’s really ugly is you for not knowing the world is spinning into degradation” would make a sweet yearbook quote.

Momma, 3/17/08

I’m pretty sure that Momma and her friend are having a thinly veiled discussion about their sons’ penises.

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Ah, relaxing on a Monday night … done with work … maybe I’ll surf the Internet a bit … read the comics — wait, comics? Aw, crap, I knew there was something I was forgetting!

Yeah, uh, let’s do some quick Sunday strips to catch up!

Marvin, 3/16/08

Just when I think Marvin can’t get any more delightfully charming, we’re treated to the spectacle of Marvin’s parents engaging in witty banter as their child stews in a mess of his own creation. I just hope that when time has ravaged my lower GI and urinary systems, I’m capable of making droll witticisms while I wait for my caregivers to clean off the filth.

Doodles by Mac and Sack, 3/16/08

I’m sure little comics-reading children across America enjoyed this week’s Doodles, which featured an adorable little koala unable to sleep because he’s forced to sleep inside the mouth of a monstrous insect-beast, presumably to satisfy his creator’s sadistic sense of whimsy.

Plus, a couple of charming panels:

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 3/16/08

Margo dropping the star-bomb isn’t really news, but Margo cussing because she can’t find her other glove is definitely amusing, and Margo using her gloved hand to point to her non-gloved hand so as to demonstrate the missingness of the other glove makes me positively giddy.

Panel from Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/16/08

Oh, June, are you sure this is a conversation that you really want to have?

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Marvin, 3/14/08

Tough questions for today’s Marvin:

• Do people normally let their two-year-olds toddle around the house eating entire hamburgers, and presumably leaving a trail of ketchup and half-masticated bun in their wake?
• Isn’t Marvin’s interlocutor old enough that she should be talking for real, and thus be unable to conduct the thought-balloon-based telepathic conversations typical of Marvin’s infant society?
• For that matter, why does she need to open her mouth in panel one to thought-balloon at Marvin?
• Have you no sense of decency, sir, at long last? Have you left no sense of decency?

Gil Thorp, 3/14/08

Woo-hoo, ladies! That’s how you celebrate a basketball win — with a full-on locker-room orgy, not whatever half-assed smirking is going on in Funky Winkerban. Lisa Wyche (or whoever the vaguely Tommie-faced gal at the far right of panel two is) looks particularly pleased to “celebrate” Milford’s “victory,” if you know what I mean.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/14/08

Ha ha, Rex just got back from his harrowing camping ordeal only to be repeatedly humiliated by his pre-kindergarten-aged daughter. Yesterday she forced him to admit that he was pretty much terrified throughout the whole thing; today she lets him know that his lies and bluster are and always have been painfully transparent. Proving that there’s no doubt about her maternity, at least, she fixes Rex with one of her mother’s patented Icy Stares Of Death™ in panel two, while June looks on approvingly.

Phantom, 3/14/08

So, we’ve got an arms dealer surrounded by heavily armed guards as he sells more weapons — presumably military grade — to some kind of green-clad paramilitary group, and our tough lady cop and waitress are going to break it up with — a handgun and a … stick … of some kind. Um. At least its a long stick. I guess “toughness” isn’t the only quality needed to join the Jungle Patrol; “suicidal insanity” also appears to be on the list.