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Hey kids, it’s comics education time! You’ve probably seen me refer to “throwaway panels” when I tackle some of the Sunday strips, and it may be that you don’t know what this means! Essentially, most Sunday strips are shipped to newspapers with an extra row of panels at the top, which some (many, in these days of shrinking budgets) papers cut off so that they can fit more comics into a limited space; as a result, the strip as a whole must be able to stand without these panels. There are varying strategies for dealing with the narrative problem thus raised.

Panels from Dennis the Menace, 6/14/09

For instance, some strips use them to present little mini-episodes that stand somewhat apart from the main action. A good example is today’s Dennis the Menace, where we learn that Mr. Wilson would like nothing better than to spray his irritating neighbor with deadly poison.

Panels from Curtis, 6/14/09

Another is today’s Curtis, where we discover that Gunther is sweeping the floor to his barbershop! Ha ha! That Gunther! What won’t he do?

Mary Worth, 6/14/09

Sometimes the throwaway panels change the focus of the strip. For instance, without the top row of panels in today’s Mary Worth, we’d probably manage to ignore those pinkish briquettes that Mary and Toby are gobbling up by the fistful. But with those panels in place, we’re forced to confront the fact that they’re genuine Mary Worth-prepared “salmon squares,” and must kill a little bit of our souls trying to figure out what, exactly, a “salmon square” might be. Has Mary taken moist, delicious, tender salmon and mercilessly baked it until it’s a series of hard, crispy pucks that are easy to pick up without getting your hands oily, and that taste like ashes in your mouth? Is the salmon inside some kind of pink pastry shell, resulting in an awful salmon-flavored Pop-Tart? Was this so-called “new recipe” written on parchment in human blood in the bowels of hell by Satan himself? Probably!

Marvin, 6/14/09

Then there are throwaway panels that alter the entire thrust of the strip. For instance, without the top row of panels, this strip could be summarized as “babies love cookies, and grandmas love giving cookies to babies”; but with them, the message is more “babies and dogs are an awful lot alike.”

Mark Trail, 6/14/09

And sometimes the throaway panels can accommodate differing levels of ambient prudishness across various media markets. Would a drawing of a comely lass in a bikini result in angry letters from comics readers in your paper’s distribution area? Just remove the top row et voilà! You’ll still get a helpful text wall on avoiding rip currents, and a terrifying close up of our naive swimmer dying in terror. That seagull in the final panel doesn’t seem to be helping matters; in fact, I’m guessing that he will soon be dive-bombing our hapless swimmer, so that she’ll drown more quickly and fatten up the fishes that he’ll eat later. Nature is cruel!

Funky Winkerbean, 6/14/09

Unrelated to throwaway panels, but related to dying in terror: does this strip finally settle the “What happened to Wally” question? This being Funky Winkerbean, we should have guessed that he died, probably in terror.

I was going to make a crack about how Becky conveniently arranged the parade to conclude at the cemetery where Wally’s grave was, but in all likelihood in the world of Funky Winkerbean it’s impossible to plan a parade — indeed, it’s impossible to plan a trip of any significant distance — that doesn’t end up at a graveyard.

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Blondie, 6/10/09

We all know that Dithers Enterprises is a terrifying corporate police state, but I find today’s installment of Panopticon Follies to be a little much. What’s most disturbing is the punchline, which revolves not around the fact that Dagwood is being tracked like a dangerous criminal or an experimental animal, but that he spent the bulk of his work day desperately trying to wriggle out of his ankle bracelet rather than slaving away on whatever slave-labor tasks Dithers has set for him. The only way it could be more unsettling would be if Blondie offered him a foot-long sandwich and he pointed to his bloody ankle-stump and said “No need, honey! I ate at the office!”

Funky Winkerbean, 6/10/09

The best part about this Funky Winkerbean is that it’s only Wednesday, so we’re only halfway through what’s presumably a week-long run of “How grim can it get up here on the roof?” Hopefully Saturday will consist of two silent panels of the empty lawn chairs, then a bird’s eye view of the two tiny figures on the asphalt below, limbs twisted and necks snapped.

Mary Worth, 6/10/09

Here’s a fun little game: try to imagine which sex act Ian and Toby refer to as “riding the waves.” Now try to unimagine it. Ha ha! Bet you can’t!

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Mary Worth, 6/8/09

As I demanded, so has it been done: POOL PARTY! You don’t know what it’s been like, knowing from your comments that a pool party was in progress but forced to toil on other more lucrative projects rather than enjoy my comics-stories. Now that I’m here, though, it’s pretty darn awesome. Ian is, as one would expect, resplendent in his fuzzy electric blue jacket, and Mary is sporting a kicky black jumper. But I’m most intrigued by the pair of gents in white shirts and high-waisted pants. The dark-haired fellow in panel one, wearing khaki pants and a t-shirt, is posing as if hoping to be discovered by the manager of a low-end clothing catalog. But in panel two, we catch a glimpse, obscured behind Toby’s word balloon blather, of sandy-haired character in baby blue slacks and a luminous polo shirt. Will their eyes meet across the crowded courtyard? Will they chat about how difficult it is to find belts that are the exact same color as one’s pants, and will romance blossom? STAY TUNED!

Speaking of blossoming romance, what are we to make of Toby’s awkward “I loved how she and her husband got together”? My question hinges on the use of “how.” In many cases in casual conversation, “how” simply means “the fact that” (i.e., “I love how Mary is drinking wood-grain alcohol through a straw”), and thus Toby’s statement conveys nothing more than bland approval for a successful coupling. But if “how” is taken to mean “the way in which,” then we must presume there is some sort of meet-cute backstory here (hopefully to be conveyed in ham-handed flashback form). If that’s the case, we may learn that this storyline’s lesson will be the same as the last’s: that the only marriages that last are those in which the groom is selected by the bride’s father from the families of his close associates.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/8/09

Boy, I sure lost interest in this Rex Morgan storyline, didn’t I? If you haven’t been following along, take my word for it that it’s been extremely dull and not even a little bit gay. I admit to being amused by panel one here, though, in which formerly eager-to-please (and formerly black) Guido Tomas rages histrionically upon being revealed as a human trafficker. I think “I am the second officer!” is a somewhat funny thing to yell if you’re pulling the “Don’t you know who I am” card. “Unhand me! My authority derives from the Law of the Sea, and from a bankrupt cruise line! Look, my uniform has epaulets and yours do not! Does that not make it clear that I am of higher status than you?”

Gil Thorp, 6/8/09

Could anything be more pleasing than the final panel in today’s Gil Thorp, in which the sweaty, exhausted Mudlarks collapse and/or vomit onto to the outfield in exhaustion? I suppose it could be topped if the next several days consist of panel after wordless panel of the scene of carnage, with unconscious teenagers flopped pell-mell everywhere, like the famous crane shot of Confederate wounded in Gone With The Wind, and then the next two years are taken up with Gil and the school board defending themselves in the massive lawsuit that will inevitably follow.

Archie, 6/8/09

Insulated from consequences and separated from the common herd by his Croesus-like wealth, Mr. Lodge has gone mad with power and begun conducting experiments on human subjects to satisfy his idle curiosity. “I wonder if this cholesterol medication has been approved by the FDA?” “The pills sure look effective, don’t they? Why not try eight or twelve and see what happens?”

Family Circus, 6/8/09

Generally speaking, if you crush a child’s sense of fun and whimsy early, the transition to white-collar drudgery is significantly less traumatic.

Pluggers, 6/8/09

A plugger’s night on the town could unfold in pretty much exactly the same sequence, at exactly the same stores and restaurants, in any town in America, which is kind of depressing.

Wizard of Id, 6/8/09

Ha ha! It’s funny because prisoners receive substandard health care!