Post Content

Today’s comics prove that the right weapon can nurture a relationship’s fragile beginning, extend its blissy peak, or bring it to a swift, bitter end — let’s see how!

The Phantom, 3/19/10

Here, Ghost-Who-Walks and Captain-Who-Stalks enjoy a rousing round of armaments-themed flirting. It won’t be long before those torpedo doors fly open, the heavy ordinance rumbles from its below-decks shotlocker, and a gleaming projectile slides its way all snug up inside that smokin’ hot barrel.

Next: BOOM!, a shared cigarette, and lounging around in purple bathrobes.

Beetle Bailey, 3/19/10

Poor Major Greenbrass’s wistful longing for General Halftrack glows soft as a candle beside Sarge’s white-hot torch for Beetle. But still, when stirred by the roar of massed air and ground forces, the Major manages to gin up a heroic narrative exalting his beloved’s pathetic shortcomings to the grand scale of epic failures by history’s other insecure, tyrannical, nutjob runt.

Apartment 3-G, 3/19/10

Drug-addled, vengeance-crazed, and Papagoras-blather-benumbed, Bobbie nevertheless understands illegal commerce better than her mugger-turned-gun-dealer pal! Let’s go over the basics for him:

• Muggers have the upper hand in their transactions; salespeople don’t. Customers won’t cower like your victims did.
• People buy untraceable guns specifically to commit crimes; some of them will get caught. Therefore, do not create traceable associations with your customers!
• This specifically means do not accompany customers into banks, lest you be photographed together. ProTip — wearing a hoodie into a bank will not help you escape attention.
• Don’t confuse your customer by asking why you should trust her: your profession is founded on mistrust. And what’s the worry? That she’ll give you someone else’s cash? Seriously, even if she bails on you, you’re out what — busfare?
• Think ahead: once you give her the gun, why shouldn’t she mug you for her money back? This is Margo’s insane evil stepmother we’re talking about, right?

Mary Worth, 3/19/10

Alas, sometimes the love is real but the artillery only a reader’s earnest fantasy. Could anything less than murder avenge the months of graceless frolicking, the arid Marylessness, and the interminable sandwichery we’ve endured for a payoff as insipid as, “I learned fatherhood from a man who was not my father.” I swear, we had better get a pool party out of this mess.

Speaking of messes, you have to credit the hilarious squalor of the life Kurt fled and now reëmbraces. Bare lath on every wall, mirror cracked in ways mirrors don’t crack, every picture and doorframe askew. Kurt looks glad to see his pregnant girlfriend, though. He must not know the child is Wilbur’s.

Spider-Man, 3/19/10

Yak yak yak ogle yak yak yak yak yak. This is like 9 Chickweed Lane, with bigger chins and less actual fighting.

Crankshaft, 3/19/10

Pam’s pinchlipped scorn gives way to shock that her husband is as big a douche as her father, and that her creators still have no idea how to set up a joke — except for the cruel one they inflict on her, day after endless day.

Hey, Josh is off on vacation out in scenic Undisclosed Location; I’m subbing for the week. If you have site issues, please contact me at uncle.lumpy@comcast.net — to reach Josh personally, try bio@jfruh.com but expect a wait.

— Uncle Lumpy

Post Content

Wizard of Id, 3/16/10

One of the interesting things about legacy comics is that over the years the edges slowly wear off their high concepts. So, for instance, Hagar the Horrible is a savage Viking chief, but he spends more time bickering with his wife than he does raiding a hapless Europe, and when he does go marauding it’s all done in the most ritualized and bloodless way. Beetle Bailey is in the army, but he’ll never be ordered to shoot anyone or put himself into a position to be shot at, nor will he ever be hauled before a court martial for his various violations of military discipline.

The Wizard of Id is one of several characters, like Funky Winkerbean and the late Kudzu, who found themselves muscled out of the spotlight of the strips ostensibly named after them, and, well, I guess I’ve never really thought of him as all that “dark.” I mean, I suppose he is the royal wizard for a king who routinely tortures his citizens and imprisons them for years without trial, but for the past several decades his powers have mostly been put to use conjuring up minor ghosts and irritating his wife. I dunno, I guess I just expect more malice out of my dark wizards. Another modern punk kid ruined by Harry Potter!

Mary Worth, 3/16/10

If we want more proof of Kurt’s complete insanity, we should look no further than panel two. If I had been shown a picture of some demon nerd, his eyes glowing the most intense and evil brown, attempting to yank off a lock of young Teri Garr’s hair for who knows what foul purpose, I would have wanted nothing to do with him, yet Kurt actively sought him out! There’s nothing such a person wouldn’t be capable of!

In panel one, we see the final stage of Wilbur’s feeding process. Having crammed an entire sandwich down his gullet with a single shove, he’s now keeping his hand in place over his mouth to make sure it doesn’t come back out. When Wilbur eats a sandwich, it stays eaten (most of the time).

Family Circus, 3/16/10

“So why don’t you let me hold on to these, dearies, while I keep them safe for you down at the greyhound track?”

Post Content

Panels from Blondie, 3/14/10

Sunday’s Blondie as a whole, in which Dagwood chases (or is chased by?) a tiny owl that may or may not be a figment of his imagination through his own house is itself a worthwhile bit of fine entertaining madness. Still, I have to say that the two throwaway panels on their own constitute a delightfully weird bit of art that deserves to be showcased in isolation. Dagwood’s just trotting along, presumably from the couch to the refrigerator, or from bed to the bath, hands in pockets, when he gets WHOO’d at. I love that his immediate reaction is not fear or panic at this unfamiliar sound, but just a mere and casual “what?” as if he could work this whole thing out if only he could hear it better.

Panel from Mary Worth, 3/14/10

Mary Worth’s epigraphical madness continues, as she’s moved beyond indie rock darlings like Leonard Cohen and Daniel Johnston to late 19th/early 20th century radical Emma Goldman.

SEPARATED AT BIRTH???

If it turns out that all of Mary’s seemingly petty meddling has been part of a long-term plan to further the cause of anarcho-syndicalist revolution, I for one will be very impressed.