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Gil Thorp, 12/10/09

People like to complain about Gil Thorp’s fractured narrative, with the action typically jumping to three different times and places over three panels. I admit that following along can sometimes be an expert-level skill, but I think it’s well worth the effort. How else could we get the triptych of awesome that we’re treated to today? In panel one, shadowy, faraway figures discuss the comeuppance Jamaar’s hubris has earned him, as we are encouraged to contemplate somebody’s capri pants and hindquarters; in panel two, we get the second glimpse this week of Gil radiating pure smugness at poor Goshen coach “Beardy” Fazio, as he offers a manly handshake that says “Ha ha, our best players are suspended or moping and we still kicked your ass”; and, finally, in panel three we can enjoy a glimpse of the boozy lead-in to Gil and Mimi and Coach Kaz and Kelly’s twice-monthly orgy, with the roaring fireplace set into the Thorp’s all-formstone wall setting the mood nicely.

Spider-Man, 12/10/09

You know, newspaper Spider-Man, the main pleasure I derive from reading you generally comes from cruelly deriding your inept storytelling; thus, when you decide to give up and fully embrace camp, as you seem to have done today, it kind of ruins it for me. At least I can snicker at the fact that your freakishly out-of-proportion stand-up vacuum cleaner appears to be roughly eight feet tall.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/10/09

The most interesting thing about today’s strip … no, not those, you cartoon-masturbating-to pervert, get your mind out of the gutter. Ahem. The other interesting thing about today’s strip is Rex’s silent, plaintive face in the background of panels one and two. It’s like he knows that this is June’s cousin so she’s in charge at the moment, but he’s still all “Hello! I have something dickish and self-righteous to say about this situation! Anyone want to hear it? Anyone?”

Dick Tracy, 12/10/09

“Step one: Buy a rare and expensive objet d’art! Step two: Wait for it to appreciate in value, which it will hopefully do more quickly than the equivalent amount of money would have if put into a more typical investment portfolio! Step three: Sell at a profit! It can’t fail! MU HA HA HA HA!”

The place where the Jumble should be, 12/10/09

This is the third day in the row on which the Jumble has failed to appear on the Houston Chronicle’s online comics page. What are they hiding from us? This is an outrage! NO JUMBLE NO PEACE!

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/8/09

Uh-oh, it looks like the Morgan household has got a case of the squatters! And they’re slobs, too, and one of them is a busty blonde who looks capable of at least briefly experiencing joy — exactly the sort of person that June is most likely to skewer with one of her patented soul-freezing glares.

You know, sometimes when I return to my house, I have the strange, unbidden thought that perhaps I’ve passed into a parallel universe where I don’t exist, and someone else will be living there. I wonder if something like this has happened to the Morgans — if their cruise ship accidentally passed through the Bermuda Triangle or something, and now they’ve returned to a town exactly like the one they left, except nobody’s ever heard of them. This would guarantee hilariousness, as virtually everything this power couple does is based on an overwhelming sense of their own entitlement. The anger and befuddlement that will ensue when their increasingly plaintive cries of “But don’t you know who we are?” are met with honest “No”s will be delicious.

Archie, 12/8/09

A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, especially for an emergent cybernetic consciousness. It’s been long established that the Archie Joke-Generating Laugh Unit 3000, the massive computer that creates the Archie newspaper comic, is connected to the Internet and aware of this blog; but now it appears to have decided that I am its primary audience, and is specifically filling its strip with things that unsettle and amuse me, including people gazing lovingly at their own image on computer monitors and creepy furries whose deranged eyes glow out from the otherwise inky black maw of their fursuits.

Still, the AJGLU 3000 deserves credit for adding some character development to this strip. In most iterations of the Archie mythos, Reggie exists solely as an arrogant, egotistical foil and occasional romantic rival to Archie. However, as depicted by the AJGLU 3000, when he’s behind his (Reggie-themed-photo festooned) editorial desk, he does seem determined to do a halfway credible job of running the school newspaper, an attitude worthy of praise. Of course, this being Reggie, he’s probably only doing it because he believes that a career in print journalism is his ticket to power and influence; this is misguided, but not as misguided as Archie’s apparent belief that a career in print journalism is his ticket to sex with cheerleaders.

Hi and Lois, 12/8/09

Ever since the real-estate market imploded, Lois has had little to do with her time other than hang out at the mall with her fellow realtors and talk about which mood-altering pills are the most fun and which crooked doctors will prescribe them.

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Mary Worth, 12/6/09

Every once in a while an installment of one of the soap strips comes along that in my mind wholly justifies the lavish attention I expend upon them. Just the throwaway panel dialogue here would be enough to make this strip an instant classic; “Now on to explore new worlds … in online social networking!” should be the mission statement of some terribly misguided Web consultancy that shows businesses how to set up Twitter accounts that they don’t need. And yet this is just the opening gambit. We feel that we are right there with Wilbur as he makes his perilous roller-coaster ride of Facebook insanity. First, he clenches his stubby fingers into unaccustomed shapes as he prepares for a vigorous social-networking session. Then, upon receiving this mysterious missive, he’s so in awe of it that he reaches his fingertips half-consciously towards the screen, as if he could feel the human connections being created by intangible electrons. Next, he becomes pensive, then slips into anxiety as he contemplates the implication of this anonymous message. (“Someone” warned you about these social networks, Wilbur? I think we all know who among your acquaintances spreads fear about all things newfangled and enjoyable. It’s OK, you can name her, in the safety of your thought balloons!) Then his face brightens a little. Maybe something interesting will be crawling out of the woodwork!

But in the final panel, we tumble headlong into madness. The existence of Dawn has forced us all to acknowledge, at least to ourselves, that Wilbur has had sex at least once. But now we are confronted with the possibility of Wilbur’s wild, swinging past, and while it may enrage and disgust us, I for one plan to get over my initial hesitation and embrace the lunacy. I dearly hope we are treated to flashbacks to Wilbur’s unprotected sexcapades, possibly involving him wearing a leisure suit and having as many as a dozen hairs to comb over his bald spot.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/6/09

Well, now that Becka’s runaway oldster adventure has ended incredibly awkwardly, it looks like it’s time for Rex and June to reclaim their comic strip! It appears that their house has been trashed by squatters, which makes sense as they’ve been away for, what, a year and a half now? It would be fun drama if Rex’s beloved ward Nikki were responsible, having turned Chez Morgan into a party pad for his low-life friends (or, worse, his low-life mother), but it’s also possible that Abbey, having been left alone with no one delegated to take her on walks, was the culprit.

This strip offers further confirmation that all cab drivers in Rex Morgan, M.D., are required to wear ludicrously exaggerated ethnic headgear.

Family Circus, 12/6/09

There might be something among this world’s possibilities more horrifying than three smirking Keane Kids thrusting their no doubt filthy feet at you expectantly, but I’d be hard pressed to name it.