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Beetle Bailey, 1/14/08

I actually kind of admire the spare joke at the core of this Beetle Bailey: Beetle doesn’t want to climb the steep hill, despite the fact that the hill’s steepness is exactly the point, because he is lazy and thus resistant to most of the activities the Army has planned to improve his readiness for combat. This being Beetle Bailey, the effect is ruined to a certain extent by the slapdash visuals. The presence of the plunger in panel two is puzzling enough (does Beetle plan to use it as a makeshift bludgeon in a last-ditch effort to avoid enforced PT?); it’s made even more baffling by its total absence in panel one, implying that Pvt. Bailey received and confirmed his orders, went inside to get a plunger, and then came back, coming up with this devastating zinger on the way.

Another problem: the “hill” is clearly a pile of salt or gravel about five feet on the other side of that chain-link fence.

Blondie, 1/14/08

When Blondie says “Well, that’s a real surprise,” she doesn’t mean Dagwood and Mr. Dithers’s shared enthusiasm for a fascinating period in American history; she’s referring to mere fact of Dagwood’s own Civil War buffery, which has managed to go unremarked and unnoticed in 75 years of this strip’s existence. Still, I’m looking forward to future strips where Dagwood affixes outrageous 19th-century-style whiskers to his face with spirit gum and goes trooping off into the woods with his fellow re-enactors. Look for history to change when the defense of Little Round Top is fatally undermined by one soldier’s forty-minute pause to prepare and eat an enormous sandwich.

Funky Winkerbean, 1/14/08

Haw haw! Oh, have you ever noticed that the men, they cannot cook? Becky probably has some difficulty in the kitchen, trying to manipulate everything with only one arm, but when it comes to cooking, a missing arm isn’t anywhere near as difficult a handicap to overcome as a penis!

Mary Worth, 1/14/08

OK, I admit it: I was holding out hope that the love triangle between Mary, Chester/Ralphie, and Ralphie’s Real Owner wasn’t over and that there were new shocking developments in store. But since we appear to be moving on, I now must acknowledge that this is indeed one of the lamest Mary Worth storylines in recent memory, which is, you know, really saying something. Still, I’m glad to see the perpetually self-pitying Dr. Corey the Younger lumbering back into view. In the wake of the dog of a storyline (ha ha, get it?) just concluded, we need his patented brand of ego-driven romantic disaster to cheer us up. Perhaps we’ll see him try various supposedly mood-lifting activities in an attempt to alleviate the psychic pain from his cruel dumping. (“Where’s this ‘methamphetamine high’ I’m supposed to be feeling?”)

We also might get to see him put his medical skills to use. In panel one, Mary is clearly rearing back in terror as that squirrel prepares to launch itself at her face. Tomorrow, Drew will have to do some emergency stitch-up work as Toby desperately tries to subdue the enraged beast.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/14/08

Now here’s an exciting story development I can get behind! Does Dr. Rex Morgan, outdoorsman extraordinaire, believe that he can use the possibly decades old and almost certainly highly explosive hooch left in this still to create a gentle, controlled fire that he and Niki can use to dry off and keep warm? Or does he intend to use the moonshining apparatus as some kind of improvised incendiary projectile to fend off their pursuers? Either way, excitement is in the cards! And by “excitement” I mean “massive second- and third-degree burns.”

They’ll Do It Every Time, 1/14/08

Tucson’s “K.L.” is in fact none other than faithful reader The Divine O’F! I’m sure she’s thrilled to have been Scadutoized, even though she looks suspiciously like Ronald McDonald in the second panel.

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/8/08

The current Rex Morgan plotline got exciting some weeks back and, as is ever the case when that happens, I immediately lost interest. I discussed this phenomenon, which I call The Rex Morgan Problem, a while back, and here it comes around again just like clockwork. I think part of the problem is that “exciting” is really not something these strips do well. Ludicrous? Overwrought? Brimming with unspoken and petty resentments? Cryptohomoerotic? Yes, yes, yes, and you’d better believe that’s a yes. Exciting? Not so much.

Anyway, speaking of unspoken resentments, I do kind of love Niki’s expression in panel three. To quickly sum up several weeks of ostensibly exciting developments, Niki was briefly left alone in the cabin with one the escaped prisoners, who tried to relate to him as a fellow lowlife and offered him some stolen cash to switch sides; Niki refused because of his fear of letting Rex down. In today’s final panel, he looks to be contemplating the fact that right now he could be (a) warm, (b) dry, (c) rich, and (d) about to be embarking on an awesome cross-country crime spree instead of trudging through the dark, wet woods with a sullen and vaguely creepy doctor.

Spider-Man, 1/8/08

Speaking of non-exciting “excitement,” Spider-Man has actually toyed with superhero-on-villain action for the past few days. I refuse to label the Persuader a “supervillain” despite his descriptive one-word name, because he wears street clothes and his only “power” is his unusual stature; still, he’s proved more than a match for Spidey, escaping from his spiderwebs and failing to get in the way of the web-slinger’s wildly misdirected web-slinging. Maybe it’s time to admit that Peter Parker’s longstanding refusal to fight crime or even get off of the couch comes not from laziness or apathy but of a crippling fear of exactly this sort of inevitable failure and humiliation. The self-esteem issues that would naturally arise go a long way towards explaining his eternal passive-aggressive attitude towards any hint of his wife’s success.

Dennis the Menace, 1/8/08

The teacher in green’s wide, crazy eyes are more terrifyingly menacing than anything Dennis has done in my lifetime. She looks like she’s about to go on a killing spree, and, even more troubling, that she’ll testify that Dennis’ fairly tame caricature spoke to her and told her which of her students should live and which should die.

Gil Thorp, 1/8/08

“Frankly, it smacks of math. And the last thing I want my players wasting their time with is math. That’s why we have the poindexters who sit at the scorer’s table!”

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Apartment 3-G, 12/2/07

“I worked on my paintings there! And that’s the window where I watched the moon!! And this is the room where I spent thirty-seven interminable weeks taking orders from what may have been the ghost of a prominent late 19th century American artist, but was probably just a figment of my oxygen-starved brain! Ha ha ha! Oh, did I forget to tell you about that, what with my conveniently selective amnesia and all?” Seriously, are we just going to pretend that the whole Ghost Ryder thing JUST NEVER HAPPENED? ARE WE? Because … because actually that would be pretty great. I really hated that whole storyline while it was happening, and the last thing I want to do is watch it get rehashed by these two morons.

Meanwhile, at the tavern across town: “Yes, but we could make it more fun, Gary! I’ve just heard about this great new thing all the young people are doing! It’s called ‘sex’!”

Blondie, 12/2/07

Yes, it looks like Dagwood and Blondie are friends with … the Glamrockers? All of them? From the entire history of glam rock? What about the ones like David Bowie, who eventually moved on to other aesthetics? Does this have anything to do with the Glambaster account?

I think the key to this whole puzzle is the middle panel of the bottom row, in which Dagwood busts out some old-school breakdance moves to celebrate the fact that he doesn’t have to go sit on the Glamrockers’ couch and watch Velvet Goldmine yet again. Obviously by the late ’70s or early ’80s Dagwood had come to believe that the whole glam rock craze was worn out and too studied by half, and found refuge in the new raw and frentic styles arising from the streets of the South Bronx.

Mark Trail, 12/2/07

Normally Mark Trail’s Sunday strips exist in a world wholly separate from the daily plots, but I can’t help but wonder if today’s lavishly illustrated paean to ritualized combat is meant to serve as a sad counterpoint to the deadly conclusion to the battle for territory between Johnny Malotte and Bull Malone. Why can’t humans take a cue from our animal friends, who know how far is too far? Why couldn’t Johnny and Bull simply have forced each other to smell their knuckles by turns until one of them had enough and withdrew instead of resorting to gunplay?

Rex Morgan, M.D., 12/2/07

If there’s one constant in the world of Rex Morgan, M.D., it’s that Rex is kind of a dick. Thus, I’m actually kind of surprised that Rex didn’t take the opportunity to correct Mrs. Jail Escapee’s reference to Niki as Rex’s “son.” “I’m sorry, ma’am, maybe it’s because you’re a lowlife yourself, but it should be pretty obvious to anyone with any degree of class that this little street punk obviously did not grow up in the sort of upper middle class home that my doctor’s salary could provide. That explains why he constantly disappoints me, anyway.” Of course, he’s still a dick enough to have underdosed Mr. Escapee on painkillers before cutting his arm open. With Rex, being a dick always comes first, even if it means that he might get shot in the face. That’s just how he rolls.