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Momma, 7/18/13

I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by the Momma-centric nature of Momma, but today’s strip really brings home how little energy the strip spends on the relationships amongst the Hobbs siblings. Is Francis just hanging out at Thomas’s house? Is this a thing that happens a lot? Do they have a close relationship? Is the whole “earmuffs” exchange a private joke between them, based on years of shared experiences? It surely can’t refer to actual, physical earmuffs, since none of those are visible or even implied in any of the panels here. Or maybe Francis has just learned to take Thomas’s intermittent delusions in stride!

Rex Morgan, M.D., 7/18/13

Good news, everybody! We’re temporarily done with “Life is too easy and it causes li’l Sarah ennui” and back to “Milton’s heart is going to explode.” Is Milton’s heart exploding right now, inside his chest? Is “10-41” secret doctor code/CB radio lingo for an exploding heart? Who knows! Not me, I’m not a doctor. I do appreciate panel two’s sexy nostril close-up, a traditional form of RMMD fan service that the strip has been far too stingy with lately.

Shoe, 7/18/13

In about 30 seconds these bird-men went from a serious discussion of a pressing issue that forces us to examine the very meaning of our political ideals to dreamily imagining an island made entirely out of pie. Or maybe just an island where pies grow on trees, ready for the plucking. It’s not entirely clear. The point is, though, that these bird-men are, in a profound sense, us. Mmmm, pie!

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Shoe, 6/19/13

Longtime readers of my blog know about one of my main beefs with Shoe: the Goggle Eyes of Horror that often appear in the final panel. These have the effect of implying that someone has uttered some unspeakable nightmare-sentence, when usually they’re making a gentle and dumb pun. Today’s instance of this visual trope has me particularly baffled/enraged. Frito the Parrot (and let’s just stop for a minute to acknowledge: FRITO THE PARROT, ye gods) has met a comely she-parrot at Parrots Without Partners! Assuming you’ve accepted a terrifying world of sentient talking birds, this is a perfectly reasonable name for an organization that arranges parrot-on-parrot romance, so it’s not clear why Shoe would be so shocked; the name’s a spoof of an actual organization, Parents Without Partners, but presumably Shoe would be thoroughly unaware of that, since the protective barrier between his reality and ours remains intact, last I looked. All I can assume is that Shoe, who has been shown to flirt with sexy lady birds of multiple species, is appalled at Frito’s racist decision to join an ethnically pure parrots-only dating service.

Gil Thorp, 6/19/13

Gil Thorp remains unspeakably dull, but I always feel obliged to alert you when we finally get to that point in the season where whatever Milford team we’re paying attention to fails to win a championship. And here we are!

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Dennis the Menace and Heathcliff, 6/10/13

Since my main beef with Dennis the Menace is that he long ago ceased to be menacing, I feel obliged to acknowledge the flashes of menace we do see. Just trying to return some ice cream that you’ve already gotten your gross spit all over is less “menacing” than “kind of a dick move,” but I choose to believe that Dennis took the ice cream cone from this guy, gave it several long, languorous licks over a period about 45 seconds, all while maintaining unbroken eye contact, then thrust it back at him, saying “I don’t like this, give me money back.”

Heathcliff, meanwhile, is generally well known for a just-don’t-give-a-shit attitude of the sort that Dennis aspires to. However, here we see that he’s willing to kiss a little ass if that’s what it takes to get what he wants, which frankly saddens me.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 6/10/13

This strip has spent decades making jokes at the expense of rural Americans, but today’s strip, which implies that country folk are interbreeding with evolutionary throwbacks and other nonhuman hominids, goes too far.

Shoe, 6/10/13

This scene of newspapermen (or newspaperman-birds, I guess) blaming each other for the decline of their industry by spinning a nautical metaphor further and further out of usefulness is, I’m pretty sure, a fairly spot-on depiction of the modern media landscape.

Apartment 3-G, 6/10/13

“You’re kidding, right?! I’m not going to let you wear a white dress in front of a photographers. Lu Ann, you spill things a lot.’