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Mary Worth, 4/1/07

Ah, a Charterstone pool party! Always a nexus of pettiness and backhanded sniping, and always an excellent opportunity for Professor Chinbeard to make an ass out of himself. Usually he achieves this goal by insulting people behind their backs or attacking those who dare to show an ounce of compassion for others, but he’s more than happy to blatantly ogle the troubled, mousy new girl in front of his wife if that’s what it takes. It’s a good thing he wore his sexiest rust-colored leisure suit and inky black shirt for the occasion!

It’s hard to know what’s going on in Vera’s head, since she’s so impossibly subdued and guarded, but I’m guessing it’s something like, “Yep, this is exactly what I was afraid this scene was going to be like.”

Mark Trail, 4/1/07

Meanwhile, Mark Trail is either very, very high, or about four years old. This is the only explanation I can offer for what we see here today. “Did you know … SUNSPOTS! They make … pretty girls in bikinis … and planes and dolphins and whales OUT OF CONTROL! And then the pelican made a big hurricane … WHOOOSH. That’s why we built this huge crystal rocket ship in Washington, D.C.! WE’RE GOING TO THE SUN TO FIGHT THE SUNSPOTS! HOORAY!”

The Phantom, 4/1/07

Hmm, it looks like “DePaul & Ryan,” who’ve been drawing the daily Phantom for a while now, have taken over the Sunday duties from Graham Nolan. It’s too bad, as I’ve been a fan of Nolan’s work in this setting, but now he’ll have more energy to lavish on June Morgan’s breasts (he’s the RMMD artist too). Anyway, today’s new adventure belies the notion that Bangalla is a happy, healthy post-colonial democracy. People walking with a suitcase at night, in the same neighborhood as the presidential palace? They must be … suspects! Some quality time down at the police station with a rubber hose will loosen their tongues and establish exactly why we should be suspicious of them!

Also today, a couple of throwaway panels of note:

Panel from For Better Or For Worse, 4/1/07

If you looked at this in your paper today and recoiled in horror but then consoled yourself by saying, “Well, at least nobody recorded this and then uploaded the MP3 to the official FBOFW site,” then I’m about to shatter your world of complacency into countless shards of anguish (note: don’t click this link unless you want to explain to anyone within earshot why you’re listening to FBOFW-themed “rock” music).

Panels from Dennis the Menace, 4/1/07

It may not be menacing as such, but it’s at least a little disturbing to see Joey and Dennis contemplate the tempting target that is Mr. Wilson’s enormous ass.

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Lio, 3/25/07

OK, despite the fact that Mark Tatulli has made a few comments on my site, I’ve managed to not cover his relatively new strip Lio here, mostly because it’s good. Still, how could I not share this with those of you who haven’t seen it? (Though based on the number of you who’ve emailed to me, I’m guessing that number is pretty low.) While there’s a long tradition of comics artists good-naturedly snarking on each other in their features (see today’s Pearls Before Swine for another installment in the long-running mock feud between Stephan Pastis and Get Fuzzy’s Darby Conley), I do have to wonder if this will be seen within the profession as crossing some kind of line. Watch yourself if you’re ever in Canada, Mark, is what I’m saying.

Mark Trail, 3/25/07

I don’t want to alarm you, but I’m pretty sure that Mark Trail is a tool of the anti-Christ. Two years ago, the Christmas installment consigned baby Jesus to the throwaway panels and focused most of its energy on that thinly veiled pagan nature spirit, Santa Claus. Now, this ostensibly Easter-inspired strip contains exactly zero crucified saviors, but makes the shocking claims that rabbits are the most beloved symbol of the holiday and that they are messengers of some higher power. Also, it keeps bringing up the Germans, so I think Mark is probably a Nazi as well.

Mary Worth, 3/25/07

What in the good lord’s name is Mary doing to Vera’s hand in the last panel? It’s like she’s realized that Vera is so eager to move into Charterstone that she can get away with all sorts of abuse of the sublettor-manager’s code of ethics. “Yes, Vera, all new Charterstone tenants get a complimentary two-hour knuckle massage! Now, hold still.”

Dennis the Menace, 3/25/07

Mom’s been smiling all day about going to a party that involves “bowls.” I see a heartbreaking Reefer Madness-style future series in which Dennis and his dad must break Mrs. Mitchell from her insatiable appetite for marijuana.

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Gil Thorp, 3/20/07

Some days, when I’m having a busy day, like I did today (I’m guest-blogging at Wonkette all week, by the way, and trying to get Mary Worth restored to the Washington Post in the process), I see dozens of comments come in about a particular strip before I see the strip itself. Sometimes all the build-up is more than a strip can bear, but panel two of today’s Gil Thorp was all I had been led to hope for and more. The sight of Tyler beating himself in the back of the head in some suburban alley — with the baffling motion lines turning the scene into an Escher-esque impossibility, and with the tiny moon floating behind him, making it look like he’s dislodged one of his own eyeballs — well, it’s pretty much the best thing I’ve seen today. I’d like to think that we’re seeing smack number four here.

Mary Worth, 3/20/07

Mary Worth was of course almost as entertaining, with her creepy finger-touching. It’s like she’s measuring Vera to make sure she’ll fit in the apartment. Or, actually, it’s like she’s Judy Davis in a straight-to-Showtime movie called “Suburban Madame,” and she’s checking out the new meat to arrive at her peaceful condo complex/brothel.

Apartment 3-G, 3/20/07

This is why Tommie and Margo need Lu Ann back so badly: it’s her well-meaning idiocy that holds the trio together. Never has the contrast between the two been so apparent as in the last panel: Margo, very, very high, vibrating like a tuning fork and popping out nonsensical questions because she can scarcely be bothered to focus enough to have an actual conversation, and Tommie, collapsing inward into her mopey core, looking like she’d be glad to slit her wrists if the prospect of failing even to do that right wasn’t so embarrassing.

Pluggers, 3/20/07

The plugger’s number two rule: Oh, just buy the semi-rotted fruit. You don’t deserve any better.