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Marvin, 8/6/07

I ought to have hated today’s Marvin, because it combines two of my least favorite things: ham-handed technology jokes that demonstrate only a passing acquaintance with technology and aim to shower contempt on “the kids today,” and Marvin. But I have to admit a certain fondness for it, because it climaxes with Marvin using his new and bafflingly l33t power of speech to insult his father’s sartorial choices. I mean, sure “h8” and “ur” would when spoken be indistinguishable from “hate” and “your”, but if Marvin’s dialog is all going to consist of the sort of heavy-lidded contempt for his parents’ aesthetics (and, hopefully, lifestyle choices and closely-held values) on display in the third panel, I’m not going to quibble about the orthography.

Mary Worth, 8/6/07

One of the great things about not having an office job (or a hospital job) is that I don’t have to listen to my annoying coworkers’ ill-informed opinions about my love life. Nosey McWhitepants sure has got a lot of nerve! Presumably he’s not getting any himself, and lives vicariously through Dr. Drew’s conquests, but his puritan upbringing forces him to filter it all through a layer of disapproval. It’s sad, really, when it isn’t irritating.

Dr. Corey the Younger here demonstrates the way turns of phrase run in families, borrowing the “very special friend” formulation that his father and Mary use to describe their ambiguous quasiromantic relationship. But that quick pimp slap to the throat? That’s all Drew, baby.

The Phantom, 8/6/07

The Ghost-Who-Revels-In-The-Psychic-Pain-Of-Others knows that the skull mark will heal eventually, but a good dose of post-traumatic stress disorder will last a lifetime.

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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 …