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Slylock Fox, 3/26/12

Never let it be said that Slylock only uses his detective services to buttress the prevailing capitalistic power structure! Count Weirdly can drive around with his sinister magnet and cheerful octopus sidekick all day, wrenching valuable steel and iron out of the skyscrapers where the wealthy gather, cackling all the while. Who cares? The Count himself is a member of the aristocracy, so let’s just let the rich fight it out. But these easily terrified homeless beavers — they must have their feelings soothed, through comforting scientific explanations, so that they know that they were never in any real danger (except for danger from death by exposure, when their two wagons’ worth of cans don’t garner enough to pay for a flophouse for the evening).

Mary Worth, 3/26/12

Speaking of America’s tragic homelessness problem, words cannot express how completely giddy I am at the prospect of a week-long summit between Suddenly Conscience-Having Nola and this magical hobo. Presumably, having been softened up by a drunken tirade of abuse from her latest victim, Nola will learn the true meaning of kindness from this man, who, despite having a beard so filthy and ill-kempt it can only be described as “lumpy,” still takes a moment out of his busy day of shouting at invisible demons and not freezing to death to spare a kind word for a weeping businesslady. Will Nola repay this act of generosity by volunteering down at the soup kitchen, or let him camp out in her sweet office, or perhaps move on with her life a better person and never once spare a thought to any existence this homeless person might have outside of the few moments he spent interacting with her? Yeah, probably the last one.

Apartment 3-G, 3/26/12

Margo being an all-heels all-the-time gal fits in pretty well with her personality and whatever we can glimpse of her cultural milieu through the fog of Eisenhower Era-ish art, but I was still kind of surprised to hear her say it, probably because we almost never get to see her below the solar plexus, so who knows what her shoes look like? Does she even have feet?

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Sunday serials mostly summarize the preceding week — apparently newspapers put the interests of decent Sunday-only and weekday-only subscribers over those of degenerate free-rider Internet obsessives. Thanks a lot, newspapers! Here we go:

Apartment 3-G, 3/25/12

This week’s Apartment 3-G “action” consists of Tommie asking Nina Gaines if she wants to take a walk. While we wait for her answer (give it a month or so), consider that poor Nina is trying to balance her commitment to a career with loyalty to her insensitive clod of a husband amid a storm of powerful lady-hormones that make her weep uncontrollably over every little thing.

Compared to the motivations that drive principal characters Lu Ann (“Shiny!”), Margo (“Blood!”), and Tommie (“What?”), this makes Nina the most complex, nuanced character in Apartment 3-G — its Cleopatra, Lady Macbeth, and Hedda Gabler. She really deserves her own strip, maybe teamed up with Professor Papagoras fighting crime or rescuing pets.

Mary Worth, 3/25/12

Whoa, here’s an unexpected development! Long months after their encounter in the shopping district, Nola remains rooted to her park bench, paralyzed by shame. Smithers — now sober and wiser, his tear-stained tie traded for a snappy cap, and CEO of his own environmental-services startup — returns to help her move on: “Nola, my life as Sales VP was a desperate, lonely wasteland until your lies led me to a greater truth. Because of you I have found enlightenment and peace, so thank you, thank you, my sweet, wonderful *&@#%$!”

Dick Tracy, 3/25/12

Aww, we’ve been neglecting this strip since its conversion to representational art and narrative coherence. Here, criminal gargoyle Blackjack takes a break from his crime spree for some strategic Dick Tracy-related product placement.

Judge Parker, 3/25/12

Hey, remember that story in Judge Parker? The one about the black sedan tailing Li’l Judge Randy and his Walther PPK and the botched murder attempt and how April Bower was implicated and that showdown with the mysterious lady assassin? The story that’s been going on since September, 2010? You do remember it? Well, forget it.

That’s it for me — Josh will be back Monday with a frothy mix of comics, COTW, and all the rich Joshy goodness we’ve come to know and love. Thanks for a fun week!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Mary Worth, 3/24/12

I’ve recently discovered that people do not always act the way they’re portrayed in Mary Worth, and pass along this helpful comparison chart:

Funky Winkerbean, 3/24/12

Hey, it’s Lo-Def Lisa, nagging Les from the Great Beyond! Les is watching the “official” version, but Lisa recorded a backup just in case things didn’t work out. Let’s listen in:

“You’re probably still stuck at the high school, if Bull hasn’t killed you and none of the girls sued you for making creepy advances. If you’re desperate — I’m sorry, since you’re desperate — you can try to find an admin in the Principal’s office dim enough to fall for your ‘tragic widower’ act. Just don’t ask her to play ‘Lisa dress-up’ until after the wedding, OK?”

“Keep Summer away from that Cory Winkerbean creep — you won’t have enough money for her next rehab if you keep shelling out for abortions. And don’t give me that ‘But my next novel will be a best-seller’ crap, either. Even those tools at Kent State Press won’t fall for that scam a third time.”

“Finally, would it kill you to weed my grave once in a while? I’ve got dandelion roots up what’s left of my nose!”

Gil Thorp, 3/24/12

Plucky catcher Amanda Carey torments Coach Mrs. Coach Thorp with a slow drip of alarming revelations about pitching powerhouse Darby Kiser: “Yeah, she attends an alternative school where they can actually fire underperforming athletic staff! She’s got a kid she hasn’t thrown down the memory hole! And she stole your face and stuck it on that other pitcher! Wait, who are we again? I have no idea what’s going on here!”

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 3/24/12

No need to imagine an alternate reality in the hellhole that is Hootin’ Holler, where everyday reality is entertainin’ly grim enuf!

— Uncle Lumpy