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Archie, 8/2/07

The Archie Joke-Generating Laugh Unit 3000 managed to churn out a serviceable punchline today (by the abominably low standards of the legacy comics industry) but it’s the weirdness of the setup that really places this strip squarely in the uncanny valley. Who is gap-toothed Leroy? Why does Archie hold him in such contempt? Did Archie’s chest expand between panels one and two, or did his head shrink? Why is he wearing an ankle-monitoring bracelet? Why are Riverdale’s beaches studded with ominous-looking targets? Sadly, I fear that the all of these anomalies are just the AJGLU’s idea of background color.

Mark Trail, 8/2/07

Seeing Mark announce “I’m your worst nightmare!” is of course a delight, a little love letter to everyone everywhere. Still, it wouldn’t be Mark Trail if the dialog emphasis failed to violate all norms of conversation among English-speaking human beings. Mark emerges from his hidey-bush and bellows “I KNOW ABOUT IT!” at the top of his lungs, then politely adds “I’m your worst nightmare” in his indoor voice. Perhaps all the boldfacing in the first word balloon tired him out.

Anyway, we are of course all on tenterhooks to see tomorrow’s punchery. Your firearm is no match for Mark’s bare fists, Buzzard!

Mary Worth, 8/2/07

If you ever needed proof that Mary Worth is some kind 18th-level Jedi ninja archbishop of meddling, this is it. By having a relationship with a somewhat older man, Dawn is enjoying herself in an ever-so-slightly unconventional way, which Mary obviously thinks is the moral equivalent to genocide. Rather than let our young romantic see her revulsion at this depravity, however, she instead pretends to be on Dawn’s side, only to plant a tiny seed in her mind by comparing her and Dr. Drew to the Camerons, Charterstone’s most loathsome couple. Now, every time Lover Boy, M.D., moves in for a smooch, Dawn will be unable to keep from visualizing Ian’s bloated, chinbeared visage, purple with drink and contempt, hovering before her. She’ll move on to a more age-appropriate boyfriend — or a nunnery — in no time, and Mary with allow herself a brief, subtle smile of satisfaction.

UPDATE: In this context, I simply must post to this excellent post at Subdivided We Stand, from faithful reader Smitty Smedlap.

The Phantom, 8/2/07

I know it’s not socially acceptable to test this out, but I’m reasonably sure that, while there are probably several more or less accurate ways to transliterate the sound made by an oar handle plunging into a man’s solar plexus, “PUNT!” is probably not one of them. I will allow that “UHHFF!!” is probably a pretty good approximation of the sound one would make when so oared, however.

Note that the Ghost-Who-Uses-The-Mori-Youth-Entrusted-Into-His-Care-As-Bait has sent a group of mostly naked teenagers with improvised bludgeons into a fracas against men armed with automatic rifles, while he stands above and fires a desultory round or two from his pistol in the general direction of the action. I suppose that if he leapt down, we’d all be denied yet another shot of his stripey ass.

Marmaduke, 8/2/07

This is one of the filthier things I’ve seen today. If you’re a sicko like me, it’s fun to imagine the caption without the second sentence.

Dick Tracy, 8/2/07

“The chief has just issued an APB for an elderly man!” And the cooks at Gitmo start making fewer halal meals and more bran muffins and prune juice as the several million Americans who fit this one-sentence description are rounded up for interrogation.

The Family Circus, 8/2/07

Sadly, the attempt to assassinate the Keane clan was botched. “Next time,” swore a cowed human race, sick to death of their antics. “Next time.”

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Cathy, 7/31/07

It’s possible that the Cathy powers that be have decided that we need to be distracted from the loathsomeness of Cathy and her parents and have thus created a family that is even more hateful. Or they may believe Cathy’s family to be a perfect little group and that this is the depths required to register on their awful-o-meter. Either way, the point is that Irving’s family are terrible people, which has been the thrust of the “jokes” in Cathy throughout this family reunion plot, which has been going on for … well, I haven’t been keeping track, but it seems like about a year and a half. Today’s different, though, because we actually get to see the other members of Irving’s clan all in a row, and learn that they’re all terrifyingly identical Hillman-Bots, presumably just released from the factory. The fact that they all look like either Irving’s mother or Irving’s father indicates the unseemly amount of inbreeding required to produce these grinning, dead-eyed clones. Hopefully these abominations of nature are being lined up against the wall so they can be shot and this horrible perversion of science ended once and for all.

Mary Worth, 7/31/07

Mother of God in heaven above! After reading your comments, I thought I was prepared for the awful hideousness of Dawn’s outfit, but now I know that no human could ever be ready for this. I think what disturbs me most is the obvious care she’s taken to match find a pair of bike shorts and an extra-long t-shirt in precisely the same offensive shade of purple. The appliqué of a two-headed kitten sitting in a stewpot is just the revolting icing on the repulsive cake.

The Phantom, 7/31/07

“Maybe I should just start appearing out of thin air! With my gun! Um. Gun. Yeah. First person who asks what kind of ghost needs a gun to fight bad guys gets shot, by the way.”

At least faithful reader Bootsy will be placated by today’s featured stripey ass presentation.

For Better Or For Worse, 7/31/07

Must … not … make … joke … about … a person … being … inside … Becky …

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Apartment 3-G, 7/29/07

For shame, Margo Magee! I seem to remember that a certain young brunette was very pleased to received all sorts of aesthetically unsettling knickknacks from total strangers celebrating her liberation from white slavery. So don’t begrudge the brain-damaged girl her moment in the sun, OK?

Unless Eric’s note features magical talking handwriting, Tommie doesn’t know what it is that has Margo so excited, but we can all still join her in a hearty “Where?!” Eric said “dinner at my place tomorrow night”, Margo. Either she’s planning on spending a full 24 hours primping for their reunion, or she’s going to burst into his apartment early and catch him in the arms of his sister-in-law. Either way, it’ll make for four to six weeks of good fun.

Shoe, 7/29/07

I’m really starting to worry about Shoe. As I’ve noted, the strip suddenly seems fixated on wasted lives and impending death. Today, as if five consecutive panels of a sobbing, emotionally distraught Perfesser weren’t enough, in the first panel we actually get to see Gilmore the Goldfish’s last moment on earth, his heavy-lidded eyes solemn with the sudden realization that for him, the veil separating this world from the next was about to part and he would forever transcend to the beyond. Then, for good measure, we’re shown his corpse. Bizarrely, the whole thing is capped off with a nonsensical joke. It’s as if Roz is telling us that the only way we can escape the crushing pain that comes with the knowledge of our own mortality is by taking refuge in the deliberate nonsense of Dada.

Funky Winkerbean, 7/29/07

The Moment We’ve All Been Waiting For is here, more or less, though surely Darrin will spend weeks moping aimlessly with the knowledge that his birth mother is dying of cancer before he actually works up the nerve to talk to her. I mostly wanted to point out his look of stunned horror as his face looms above the “BEAN” in Winkerbean in the first panel. It really nicely encapsulates the mood of the strip, though it does leave us wondering about his mouth — a perfect O of shock, or a grimace of emotional distress?

Finally, today’s Mary Worth is too horrible for me to contemplate, but I did want to share this pic from faithful reader Dan, who offers it as proof that tiny, tiny horses like the ones Drew and Dawn are riding do exist — in Mongolia!

This frankly opens up a number of wonderful possibilities. Are Drew and Dawn training in the art of nomad horsemanship? Will they join a fearsome horde of warriors, swooping down upon the settled folk, burning their homes, stealing their gold, and leaving piles of bones in their wake? Will Charterstone be their first target? Please?