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Mary Worth, 12/7/09

Believe you me, I plan to follow the Exciting Tale Of Wilbur’s Bastard Son very closely, at least right up until the point when against all odds it manages to become boring (which, this being Mary Worth, could happen at literally any moment). Today’s hilarity comes thanks to Wilbur’s complete and utter lack of filter. I think that most single fathers, if confronted with the possibility that their youthful man-sluttery had living, breathing, school-tuition-requiring consequences, might attempt to compose themselves a bit and have a coherent narrative ready before breaking the news to their college age daughter. They might even try to figure out if the story is true first! But not Wilbur. “Aw, jeez, I think I knocked some broad up, back in the ’80s!” he yelps, no doubt to Dawn’s horror and disgust, as he compulsively rubs his clammy head-skin for comfort.

Mark Trail, 12/7/09

What an awesome time it is for soap opera strips, when poor Rusty pinned under Mark’s four thousand pound station wagon only merits second place in our thoughts! With man’s toolmaking skills down for the count, Mark will be forced to use the lessons he’s learned from nature. “Rusty, you’ll need to make like a trapped fox and chew off your own foot! Quickly, before the pelicans mistake you for a dying fish and attack!”

Gil Thorp, 12/7/09

Meanwhile, Coach Thorp is on the horns of a dilemma! It seems that he’s under pressure to kick notorious public drunkard Duncan Daley off of his team. But Duncan needs the structure and routine of playing football! It’s all that’s holding him together! *cough* Also he’s Milford’s best player *cough* I particularly enjoy today’s panel two, which appears to be footage from the hidden ceiling-mounted camera Gil used to capture Coach Fazio’s moment of humiliation for repeat viewing later.

How can Coach Thorp avoid such a fate? Well, we might start by not calling Prisoner Daley a hypocrite. I mean, are we terribly shocked that the sort of guy who would commit a jail-worthy offense might also be the sort of guy who would instigate a prison fight? I think Gil needs to take the “fighting a bad influence” approach. “Duncan’s brother told Duncan to stay out of trouble. Duncan’s brother is a convicted felon! Do you expect him to take the advice of a jailbird? He had to drink that beer!”

Hi and Lois, 12/7/09

Speaking of drunken teenagers, Chip appears to be in some kind of substance-induced coma! Obviously Lois’s main concern is to get him somewhere out of sight.

Luann, 12/7/09

Each of Luann’s suitors has to have some unspeakably perverted fetish, and now we know Quill’s: elf porn!

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Mary Worth, 12/6/09

Every once in a while an installment of one of the soap strips comes along that in my mind wholly justifies the lavish attention I expend upon them. Just the throwaway panel dialogue here would be enough to make this strip an instant classic; “Now on to explore new worlds … in online social networking!” should be the mission statement of some terribly misguided Web consultancy that shows businesses how to set up Twitter accounts that they don’t need. And yet this is just the opening gambit. We feel that we are right there with Wilbur as he makes his perilous roller-coaster ride of Facebook insanity. First, he clenches his stubby fingers into unaccustomed shapes as he prepares for a vigorous social-networking session. Then, upon receiving this mysterious missive, he’s so in awe of it that he reaches his fingertips half-consciously towards the screen, as if he could feel the human connections being created by intangible electrons. Next, he becomes pensive, then slips into anxiety as he contemplates the implication of this anonymous message. (“Someone” warned you about these social networks, Wilbur? I think we all know who among your acquaintances spreads fear about all things newfangled and enjoyable. It’s OK, you can name her, in the safety of your thought balloons!) Then his face brightens a little. Maybe something interesting will be crawling out of the woodwork!

But in the final panel, we tumble headlong into madness. The existence of Dawn has forced us all to acknowledge, at least to ourselves, that Wilbur has had sex at least once. But now we are confronted with the possibility of Wilbur’s wild, swinging past, and while it may enrage and disgust us, I for one plan to get over my initial hesitation and embrace the lunacy. I dearly hope we are treated to flashbacks to Wilbur’s unprotected sexcapades, possibly involving him wearing a leisure suit and having as many as a dozen hairs to comb over his bald spot.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/6/09

Well, now that Becka’s runaway oldster adventure has ended incredibly awkwardly, it looks like it’s time for Rex and June to reclaim their comic strip! It appears that their house has been trashed by squatters, which makes sense as they’ve been away for, what, a year and a half now? It would be fun drama if Rex’s beloved ward Nikki were responsible, having turned Chez Morgan into a party pad for his low-life friends (or, worse, his low-life mother), but it’s also possible that Abbey, having been left alone with no one delegated to take her on walks, was the culprit.

This strip offers further confirmation that all cab drivers in Rex Morgan, M.D., are required to wear ludicrously exaggerated ethnic headgear.

Family Circus, 12/6/09

There might be something among this world’s possibilities more horrifying than three smirking Keane Kids thrusting their no doubt filthy feet at you expectantly, but I’d be hard pressed to name it.

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 12/3/09

It has long been my contention that Parson Tuttle is a fraud, using his position as Hootin’ Holler’s lone clergyman to bilk his gullible parishioners out of their meager savings. Today it has become clear that he never even bothered acquiring the rudiments of a theological education before launching into this long-term grift. He’s desperately trying to come up with some vaguely Biblical-sounding thing about niceness that might get these ladies to make peace with each other, and all he can pull out of his fancy hat is the Good Samaritan; but even the semi-literate locals know that this parable is really about expanding the notion of “neighbor” to encompass mercy and virtue, not just geography or ethnic and religious loyalty, and has little to do with stopping people who actually live next door to each other from feuding. Still, they might yet get some spiritual edification out of it; after all, the parable does involve a man beaten by bandits and left for dead at the side of the road, which I imagine happens in Hootin’ Holler with depressing regularity.

Crankshaft, 12/3/09

I have to admit that I kind of enjoy the often nonsensical “Crankshaft-speaks-to-the-garden-club” episodes of Crankshaft, mostly because there’s so much disconnect between the various components. The ostensible point of the strip is to provide a humorous counterpoint between the ’Shaft’s educational agenda and his wacky and relentless malapropisms; but funnier still is the comical juxtaposition of both with his look of unbridled disgust and contempt and his audience’s terrified cowering. Pretty much the only way to parse any of this is to imagine Crankshaft as an aged absolute dictator, still wearing his proletarian uniform to show his revolutionary bona fides despite years in power, launching into hour four of a rambling, nonsensical harangue that his audience cannot escape or ignore for fear of execution.

Funky Winkerbean, 12/3/09

Ha ha, whoops! I think we’re about to find out that Funky recently decided in a “cost-saving move” not to renew his restaurateur’s license. Westview’s last economically viable private business will be shut down, throwing its already struggling employees out of work just in time for the holidays. Merry Funkmas, everybody!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/3/09

I’d argue that the blame for this whole escapade really ought to be placed not so much on Henry the non compos mentis golf pro but on the neglectful management of the nursing home that allowed the two oldsters to escape. I’d also point out that it’s incredibly common for people with Alzheimer’s to form romantic attachments to each other in care facilities, and that it probably brings a certain amount of joy to their lives. But whatever, Tim! I’m sure your mother will be much happier locked up in your basement! I do hope you and Becka can stay friends, if by “friends” we mean “she will come by a couple times a month free of charge to make sure your mother isn’t dying.”

Mary Worth, 12/3/09

People, people, people, this strip, in which Wilbur confesses (while moodily chewing on an orange celery stick) that his daughter helped him set up a Facebook page, has been live on the Chron Web site for more than 10 hours, and yet nobody has set up an actual Wilbur Weston Facebook page yet. Shame on all of you! Whoever does this first, and makes sure that his six combover hairs are visible in each and every one of his profile pictures, will be a true Internet hero.

UPDATE: Wlibur profile is up! Go to it!

Marmaduke, 12/3/09

It’s a good thing that former president Bill Clinton has his wife’s salary as Secretary of State and the money he makes from his speaking engagements to fall back on, because I don’t think his bosses at the dealership will be pleased that he let a demon-dog with unnaturally powerful neck muscles destroy the roof of one of the cars he was trying to sell.

Mark Trail, 12/3/09

OH OH OH! Please, please, please let Sassy get eaten by a squid!