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Mary Worth and Rex Morgan, M.D., 4/3/12

Hmm, hey, did someone decide to have a Best Sidelong Glance In A Soap Opera Strip contest and somehow NOT ask me to be a judge??? That’s OK, because I enjoy each glance on its own terms and don’t feel a need to quantify them or pick one as the “best.” Each has its own charms! For instance, I like how Mary is looking somewhat hopefully at Jeff, hoping that he’ll look past the theatrically weeping televangelist and see the more general analogy she’s trying to draw. You know, sometimes you get wake-up calls in this life! Like, when your asexual not-girlfriend keeps rejecting your marriage proposals! Maybe that would be a sign to wake up and move on with your life? Not just come over to her house and bother her with your jabbering while she’s trying to watch the bad man crying on the teevee?

June’s glance, meanwhile, is more one of mounting panic, as she realizes that Rex is about to be zero help in dealing with this sexy not-dressed drunken lady who’s demanding more booze, for drunkenness. “Sure … give me a minute,” June says, backing slowly towards the liquor cabinet, not taking her eyes off Iris lest she suddenly and violently attempt to drink the lamp.

Dick Tracy, 4/3/12

Speaking of contests, it appears that Dick Tracy heard that Mark Trail was going to depict the world of marijuana use and/or distribution in a hilariously square fashion and thought, “Whoah there, I’ll bet we can do them one better!”

Slylock Fox, 4/3/12

This is pretty much the saddest Slylock Fox since that guy brought his skeletonized fish to the vet. In fact, it may be even sadder, because while that guy will probably move on with his life eventually and the fish is past caring, these two star-crossed aqua-lovers are stuck for their short lives in their too-small bowls, without even a fake treasure chest to hide behind while pressing their lips against the glass and imagining what it must be like to feel the physical touch of someone who really loves them.

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Slylock Fox, 3/26/12

Never let it be said that Slylock only uses his detective services to buttress the prevailing capitalistic power structure! Count Weirdly can drive around with his sinister magnet and cheerful octopus sidekick all day, wrenching valuable steel and iron out of the skyscrapers where the wealthy gather, cackling all the while. Who cares? The Count himself is a member of the aristocracy, so let’s just let the rich fight it out. But these easily terrified homeless beavers — they must have their feelings soothed, through comforting scientific explanations, so that they know that they were never in any real danger (except for danger from death by exposure, when their two wagons’ worth of cans don’t garner enough to pay for a flophouse for the evening).

Mary Worth, 3/26/12

Speaking of America’s tragic homelessness problem, words cannot express how completely giddy I am at the prospect of a week-long summit between Suddenly Conscience-Having Nola and this magical hobo. Presumably, having been softened up by a drunken tirade of abuse from her latest victim, Nola will learn the true meaning of kindness from this man, who, despite having a beard so filthy and ill-kempt it can only be described as “lumpy,” still takes a moment out of his busy day of shouting at invisible demons and not freezing to death to spare a kind word for a weeping businesslady. Will Nola repay this act of generosity by volunteering down at the soup kitchen, or let him camp out in her sweet office, or perhaps move on with her life a better person and never once spare a thought to any existence this homeless person might have outside of the few moments he spent interacting with her? Yeah, probably the last one.

Apartment 3-G, 3/26/12

Margo being an all-heels all-the-time gal fits in pretty well with her personality and whatever we can glimpse of her cultural milieu through the fog of Eisenhower Era-ish art, but I was still kind of surprised to hear her say it, probably because we almost never get to see her below the solar plexus, so who knows what her shoes look like? Does she even have feet?

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Mark Trail, 3/18/12

Yes, “… this monster will spend his remaining days in an eco-tourism park where he can be admired.” There’s so very much to admire about this ravenous ocean brute: his winning smile, obvious relish munching on that poor doomed zebra, determination to run down a tasty bird-snack, and handsome striped tail thrashing in anguish as strangely impassive villagers reel him in. Sure, maybe he can’t crush a turtle, but let’s not quibble.

So if you ever find yourself in the vast, impoverished marsh district 500 miles southeast of Manila, stop by and check in on our pal here — but if you do, take a Nature Tip from Mark Trail and stay indoors at all times. Seriously, you could get killed out there.

Blondie (panels), 3/18/12

Speaking of monsters, check out the Blondie-narwhal. Crocodiles of the deep, you have been warned! YOW!

Slylock Fox (panel), 3/18/12

Psst — the bird did it. Killed the fish, too! Ask the spider.

Heaven’s Love Thrift Shop, 3/18/12

My favorite parable is the one about the Unjust Steward (Luke 16:1–13), in the telling of which Jesus appears to endorse sharp dealing, hanging out with a bad crowd, and outright fraud. Its deeper message is that children of God should be as practical preparing for the Hereafter as children of mammon are for the Here and Now.

In this Sunday-only (natch) comic, child of God Dag is so mightily upset that his bosses (Wilson and Cassidy) think he should set out on his own that he threatens to, um, stay? Maybe a little more attention to the Things of This World wouldn’t be such a bad thing? Things like punchlines?

The Phantom, 3/18/12

It’s hard out here for a Nemesis. Injured during his botched Phantom-killing mission, Eric Sahara (The Nomad!) hitchhikes back to his jet and scuttles off to his ramshackle desert retreat — the one with the sharp left turn in the airstrip. Seriously, his badass predecessor Chatu would just be embarrassed.

Also: worst minion ever — Beast Man can breathe easy at last.

— Uncle Lumpy