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The Phantom, 7/21/19

So the Phantom is the middle of a Sunday plot about a mountain kingdom that’s taken Lean In feminism to its ultimate conclusion, which is that it’s a brutal, violent dictatorship but, like, run by women, you see. (It’s also right next to Bangalla, in Africa, and yet seems entirely populated by white people, hmm.) Anyway, today’s strip made me laugh and laugh, as our hero, significantly underestimating these Amazonians, just wanders in completely non-stealthily, frees their prisoner, and is like “Rule of law, ladies, you ever heard of it?” and then just gets immediately stabbed in the chest.

Dick Tracy 7/21/19

Welp, looks like Dick Tracy wasn’t successfully gunned down after all! I really like the helpful graphic the local news has chosen to accompany this story. “Usually it’s best to aim for center mass when trying to take someone down. But if you’ve got a scope and suspect your target might be wearing a Kevlar vest, why not aim for the head?”

Hagar the Horrible, 7/21/19

TIRED: Lucky Eddie wants to fuck a fish

WIRED: Lucky Eddie wants to be a fish

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Mary Worth, 5/12/19

Oh, man, check out that look of implacable determination on Mary’s face in the final panel. How dare someone break the heart of what’s-her-name, the lady who took Mary’s cat off her hands? “Arthur” will be reported, do you understand? He’ll be reported if Mary has to report him herself. And if the people she reports him to don’t take her seriously … well, then, she’s just going to have to ask to speak to their manager. Mary will stop at nothing.

The Phantom, 5/12/19

“They claimed to do these crimes to honor history!? A disgraceful argument, O Ghost Who Walks!”

“Ha-ha! I think they believed it, Guran. The criminal mind sets out to deceive others, but can be even more adept at deceiving itself! Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll head down to my treasure chambers, where my family has hoarded dozens of priceless historic artifacts that we’ve definitely acquired legitimately!”

Blondie, 5/12/19

It’s not clear what Blondie hates more: her family’s cooking, or foreigners.

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Funky Winkerbean, 5/1/19

Hey, remember last year in Crankshaft when a poor little girl was buying a book on “layaway,” a few pennies at a time, from Lilian’s unlicensed bookstore, so Crankshaft bought it for her, but she turned out to be a little grifter running a scam? I guess “people will respond to basic acts of human decency by attempting to profit off your kindness” is a Funkyverse thing now, which has a different kind of depressing valence than “the universe will snuff out your happiness with arbitrary tragedy.” Not sure where the obvious anger simmering under today’s strip is coming from, unless it’s based on the belief that there’s some kind of lucrative secondary market for signed Funky Winkerbean art, which I can assure you there is not.

Dick Tracy, 5/1/19

Ugh, the whole point of Minit Mysteries is that there supposed to be quick and simple and not … full of just endless text about small town administrative terminology and the minutia of the local criminal syndicate’s org chart. I’m not going to read this, you hear me? I’m not. I’m getting older, I only have a limited amount of brain space anymore, and I need to focus it on what brings me joy.

Gil Thorp, 5/1/19

See, I accidentally learned that the town in Dick Tracy has a “president” instead of a mayor and it made me forget the name of the the reporter who isn’t adversarial towards the Thorps and all they stand for. I want to say it’s … Marcie? Is that right? Anyway, I mostly am here to point out that Marty Moon would never let Coach Mrs. Coach Thorp go off the record to say “Yeah, I’m definitely surprised this team isn’t doing as badly as I 100% expected them to do.” Of course, she also went off the record to say “There’s a swagger and spirit to this team that’s infectious,” which is like a perfect coach sound bite, so really Mimi’s whole media relations strategy is pretty muddled.

The Phantom, 5/1/19

The Phantom is not exactly known for its verisimilitude, but I do absolutely believe that the shadowy guerilla warriors guarding terrorist compounds deep in the African desert spend more time than you’d think dicking around on their phones.