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Mark Trail, 3/6/09

I’ve been trying, and failing, to come up with a funny about what appears to be the terrible, terrible ending to this Mark Trail storyline, in which we get to see Patty, after months of living in obvious and sustained terror of her slap-happy, quick-trigger husband, groveling for his forgiveness. It’s OK, you see, because he took his medicine (in the form of some antlers to the solar plexus), and he only did it because he loved her too damn much! Ha ha ha! We should have all known that Ken would turn out to be a good guy because, hey, the man can trim off his facial hair like a pro. And now they’ll live happily ever after, until the murder-suicide.

Mary Worth, 3/6/09

Now, passive-aggressive psychological manipulation in relationships — that’s all good fun. “It also makes people check their common sense at the door! Emotions sometime override intelligent thought! Why, you can find yourself trapped with someone who isn’t as they seem, whose sweetness and light in public disguise their need to control and …” “Jeff, I’ve said repeatedly that Adrian will be fine — why are you still talking? Do you want to be banished back to first base for the rest of the month? Do you?”

Gil Thorp, 3/6/09

Good lord, look at the pupils on New Wave Hairstyle Girl Whose Name I Don’t Know in panel one. By “Ashley,” she clearly means “that enormous bag of Ecstasy I bought yesterday.”

Funky Winkerbean, 3/6/09

Teen Lesbian Locker Room Hookers — coming up next, on the Spice Channel.

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Beetle Bailey, 3/1/09

Sometimes people complain about the mishmosh of anachronisms and inaccuracies that make up the military uniforms in Beetle Bailey, to which I respond: check out what happens when the artists try to draw any other form of clothing. While most of these outfits are rendered with equal parts lazy and terrible (and I long to hear faithful reader Fashion Police’s take on them), I feel must I draw particular attention to Rocky, slouching there smack dab in the middle of this grid of awfulness. While I suppose I am not an authority on what constitutes “urban hip,” I feel that I can with some certainty give examples of what “urban hip” is not, and here is one: an oversized, untucked, bright red waistcoat, worn over what appears to be a white t-shirt with a single, incomprehensible button at the collar.

Zero’s bit of hanky code, meanwhile, is neither to be asked about nor told of.

Family Circus, 3/1/09

More proof that the Keane Kids are unnatural demon-children. “AAGGGGH! The yellow face, it BURNS!”

Mark Trail, 3/1/09

Another example of how the top row of throwaway panels can subtly alter a strip’s dynamics. Without them, today’s Mark Trail is just a charming story of poisonous plants and early biological warfare. But with the mention of the poisonous plants growing in your yard, this becomes a manual for a guerilla army. “So remember, kids, when the invaders come to your town, you’ll have a weapon ready to strike back at them even after they confiscate everybody’s firearms. Wolverines!”

Mary Worth, 3/1/09

Ted has finally and officially been outed as a cad by his cheapskate thought balloon in today’s final panel. I’m sure we’ll have much more delicious character assassination to enjoy over the coming weeks, but today I want to dwell briefly on just how damn pleased with himself Jeff looks as he bellows out his offer to pick up the check. Presumably everyone in his family just views him as a giant talking wallet, and he’s internalized that and is now just desperate to please in the only way he knows how.

Panel from the Phantom, 3/1/09

While Spider-Man’s narration box is acknowledged as the sassiest of superhero narration boxes, the Phantom’s is no slouch. I was particularly impressed by this atmospheric and semi-comprehensible offering today. It sounds like the latest underground hip-hop album to hit the street (though I leave to the reader to determine whether “Day of Reckoning” should be the artist name and Through the Eyes of a Thug the album title, or vice versa).

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Mark Trail, 2/25/09

So the whole Lost Forest patriarchy is trying to convince Patty to forget about her special deer friend and learn to love life with her poor, innocent, economically stressed, angry, abusive husband, but she will persevere! No matter how long she has to wander through the forest, searching, always searching … OH NO! THAT’S BUCKY! And he’s … just sort of chilling in a clearing … gently nudging horns with some other deer … and this is OH NO! worthy because … ? Maybe rubbing antlers together is the deer equivalent of a gay makeout. And so, with her husband a slap-happy menace, and her be-antlered secret boyfriend secretly preferring the company of other be-antlered deer, I think it’s clear that Patty will finally go completely over the edge, which should provide us with an exciting new world of terrifying, inhuman facial expressions.

Mary Worth, 2/25/09

Wait … they met on a Santa Royale fan club site? Jesus, I knew the Internet was full of the worst kind of filth, but even I couldn’t imagine that anyone would provide Web hosting space for that kind of depravity at any price. I sincerely hope that these boards are carefully monitored by FBI agents who will capture these perverts and send them to dark, dank holes where they can never again bother decent people.

Dick Tracy, 2/25/09

Today’s Dick Tracy, like yesterday’s, really opens more questions than it answers. If your eyes are melting down your cheeks after you’ve had acid thrown in your face, do you magically gain the power to see behind you as some sort of compensation? Has any human anywhere ever said “The weather is closing in” and expected anyone else to know what it meant? I had a third question ready — will the two cars in the final panel collide, causing the painful mangling of flesh and bones? — but then I realized that, hey, this is Dick Tracy, I know the answer to that one.

Blondie, 2/25/09

Look, Dagwood, if you want to live out some kind of cuckolding fantasy, you’re going to have to just come out and say it.