Archive: Phantom

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 2/28/17

Hmm, it looks like we’re going to be seeing Loweezy and Elviney trade irregularly metered rhyming lines on the subject of Loweezy’s diet over the next few days! I’m looking forward to them becoming increasingly desperate for rhymes the week drags on. “Do you think the diet’ll keep the’ pounds off in the future, Lo?” “I’ll get in trouble with th’ preacher for this, but I’m gonna turn to witchcraft and do some scryin’!

Hi and Lois, 2/28/17

Meanwhile, Hi and Lois continues with its quest to show us the soul-crushing emptiness of modern white-collar suburban life. Yesterday the strip tackled work; today, it tackles sex, as Hi attempts to weave romance into his overburdened family schedule, much to everyone else’s disgust.

Phantom, 2/28/17

So the current Phantom storyline involves Orson, this beardy dude, who doesn’t think the Phantom is real, trying to convince the Bangallan government to put out a stamp about the Phantom legend, which stamp will probably be bought up by a small group of international collectors and make a tidy sum for the Bangallan treasury and be completely ignored by the world at large. And so the Phantom has … brutalized and kidnapped Orson? And revealed himself as actually existing? To stop the stamp from being produced? I’m pretty sure the Ghost-Who-Walks is also the Ghost-Who-Seriously-Overrates-The-Influence-Of-Stamps and also the Ghost-Who’s-Never-Heard-Of-The-Streisand-Effect.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/2/17

[looks around anxiously] “Did you hear me? The Morgans are the real heroes here!” [speaking more loudly] “The Morgans! They’re the source of all good in our lives, and in the world! All hail the Morgans! They’re listening right now! [shouting now, really] I WOULD DIE FOR YOU, REX AND JUNE”

Funky Winkerbean, 2/2/17

Remember, kids, you only get to dodge death so many times, and you won’t know the day when your luck runs out until it arrives! Today’s Funky Winkerbean is extremely on brand.

The Phantom, 2/2/17

I may fail to keep you up to date on all the Phantom’s plotlines, but I promise you this: I will never, ever neglect to tell you about a strip that features a lovingly drawn closeup of the Phantom’s ass.

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Dick Tracy, 1/27/17

As I always note with increasing nostalgia, ever since the switchup of creative teams in 2011, Dick Tracy plots rarely end in insanely violent and gory death anymore. But Joe Staton and Mike Curtis do have a knack for unearthing the most horrifyingly deformed villains from the strip’s decades-long history and fitting their traditional look into today’s more modern art style. “The Brush,” whose head is completely hairless except for a drooping reverse mullet covering his entire face, is a particularly vivid example of this, and it says a lot about our society’s tolerance that someone so profoundly unsettling looking can find work in the landscaping industry.

According to the Dick Tracy Wiki, the original Brush was a scam artist who claimed that radioactive fallout from A-bomb tests had caused his condition, when he was actually just wearing a face-wig (face-merkin?). After raising a bunch of sympathy money in a preview of modern GoFundMes, his scheme fell apart and he fled to the countryside one step ahead of Dick Tracy, only to die when the dynamite trailer he was hiding out in got struck by lightning (!!!!!!!!). So I’m not sure what relationship this dude has with the one who was blown to bits in an act of a particularly vengeful God, but if this storyline is half as bonkers as that one, I am very much looking forward to it.

Phantom, 1/27/17

Sorry I haven’t been keeping you up to date on the current Phantom storyline, which, no lie, has involved a guy determined to get the Phantom on a Bangallan stamp. Anyway, the second panel is a great example of why the big purple guy is so philately-worthy: he’s punched this criminal so hard in the jaw that the dude’s head has partially phased out of our dimension, allowing it to become hopelessly embedded in the bars of his prison cell in a queasy-making, Escher-esque mess.