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Mary Worth, 12/21/10

Ever since she successfully cured Dr. Mike’s inability to love, Mary’s fancied herself something of an amateur therapist. Today we learn just how far she’s going with her little hobby: she’s apparently developed some extreme form of rational-emotive behavioral therapy where patients use their thoughts to control not only their emotions and attitudes, but their memories as well. “Jill, you were only abandoned by your fiance at the altar because that’s how you choose to remember it! If you simply rethink your memories, then perhaps you’ll realize that he did show up after all, and you’ve been happily married for the past seven years! If you go home and find your house still empty and lonesome, it probably just means that you’re not trying hard enough.”

Gil Thorp, 12/21/10

Notice that Gil actually gives Marty a straight and substantive answer about sports, — in response to Marty’s hesitant attempt to establish emotional intimacy with his long-term frenemy. “Jeez, I’m glad I didn’t tell him that what I wish I had but don’t: recognition from my journalistic peers and my parents of how hard I work on my sportswriting craft. Christ, I feel like an asshole now.”

Apartment 3-G, 12/21/10

Hmm, the girls are already dressed in their best party clothes — Margo in an actually rather fetching little black dress, Tommie in her Star Trek: The Motion Picture-era Starfleet uniform, and Lu Ann in [artist’s duty to think of third party outfit avoided by crafty foreground figure placement] — and Iris has gotten out the punch bowl and traditional balloon wreath, and yet this seems to be the first our trio of protagonists have heard of this party. The possibilities: either we’re in the last scene of an ’80s comedy and all Iris needs to do is mention a party to summon the various accoutrements thereof out of thin air while a Journey soundtrack blares in the background, or she was planning on throwing a swell party and not inviting the 3-G gals, a plan they ruined by stopping by unannounced on their way someplace else.

By the way, it’s nice to see that Iris is planning on repaying Mrs. Bloom’s kind offer of a free place to crash by trashing said free place with endless partying.

Mark Trail, 12/21/10

“Yes, just put your boat near his boat! I am ‘interested’ in being within seeing distance of him! This is because of something I will explain later. It certainly not because I am on a secret government mission, so do not believe that! I am, uh, interested in making sex with him! Yes, that’s it! That’s something humans say, right?”

Ziggy, 12/21/10

Since the mice in Ziggy are generally portrayed as anthropomorphic wisecrackers, the sight of one dead and dangling limply from a cat’s grinning mouth is fairly startling. What could make this worse? Oh, right, the thought of the stench of searing mouse flesh, the hint of which will always linger on the coils of the toaster’s heating elements! Yes, that will do nicely.

Funky Winkerbean, 12/21/10

Oh, look, despite a mysterious phone call from his dead wife warning him not to get on his flight, Les did not in fact die in a fiery plane crash. I know, I’m just as disappointed as you are.

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Apartment 3-G, 12/18/10

I fear that, in the wake of the makeover storyline, the breach between writer and artist of Apartment 3-G is now total, and now visuals that are crucial to the storyline are being neglected out of spite. “The first time I saw this building it gave me chills. You know, this building behind us that you can barely see, and what you can see of it is completely ordinary.”

Mary Worth, 12/18/10

“Waiting-at-the-altar Jill Action Figure” just rocketed to the top of my list of Christmas Presents I Really Want Even Though They Sadly Don’t Exist And Never Will. But my favorite person in panel two is the guy sitting in the front row there ostentatiously looking at his watch. The tails and striped pants would seem to indicate that he’s in the wedding party, which makes it all the more hilarious that his body language screams “Is this guy showing up or what? Because, you know, I’ve got places to be…”

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Hagar the Horrible, 12/17/10

There’s something sincerely baffling to me about this strip: the scene itself, with the falling snow and the bureaucrat flanked by axe-wielding thugs, is quite evocative, and yet does not appear to contain a joke or joke-like material of any kind. Is supposed to be “funny” that the tax department has denied Hagar’s request with a mildly jocular retort, and that the taxman is reading this off a sheet of paper? Is the fact that the response contains the phrase “cold day in July” rather than the obviously intended “cold day in hell” part of the joke, or was it imposed by the strip’s editor? Does the frigid winter scene somehow relate to the gag, or does the conceptual overlap merely serve to distract us from the point? What is the point? I sit here staring much like Hagar himself, wide-eyed and baffled.

Mary Worth, 12/17/10

Blah blah blah Jill’s tragic past blah blah blah fiance looks like skinny Wilbur with a bad wig blah blah blah she lashes out because of her emotional wounds blah blah HOLY SMOKES LOOK AT THEM PIES! It seems that Mary has taken Jill to some kind of wonderland where pies just sit out on shelves, ready for the taking. How can she even focus on Jill’s completely predictable tale of woe when there are delicious pies just inches from her head? The smell must be overpowering!

Beetle Bailey and Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 12/17/10

Ha ha, that stock market! It’s sure going up! Or perhaps down? These two strips appear immediately adjacent to one another on my digital comics page, which is kind of unfair to the Snuffy characters. We ought to be impressed that the residents of Hootin’ Holler have finally moved beyond barter to the money economy and are even dimly aware of higher finance; but this achievement is eclipsed by the fact that even Sarge’s dog is well acquainted with modern capitalism.

Family Circus, 12/17/10

Yes, there’s nothing more adorable than a little tyke singing happily about being set ablaze! This one is getting cut out of the paper and put up on pyromaniacs’ refrigerators everywhere.