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Beetle Bailey, 1/15/11

This is another strip where the top row of throwaway panels — so called because they’re often discarded by newspapers to cram the strip into various arrangements — completely change the tenor of the strip. Without those first two panels, we have the story that we’ve always been sold about Beetle: that he’s smugly and pathologically lazy. But with those added strips, we see that he only spends as much time as possible in bed because he’s in constant physical pain, no doubt because of some combination of forced manual labor and the beatings he receives daily from Sarge. So too his final panel fantasy becomes much more poignant: it doesn’t represent some kind of apotheosis of sloth, but rather his dream of a job that helps alleviate his all-pervading agony.

Mary Worth, 1/15/11

So Mary Worth and this waitress have basically been congratulating themselves on saving Emily since about Tuesday, and you know how sometimes something irritating in small doses can become awesome in mass? That’s pretty much how I’m starting to feel about this. I’m hoping the two of them just keep saying this stuff back and forth for another week or two. “Do you think she’ll be OK?” “Hopefully! But the real important thing is that we saved her, together, as a team! We’re amazing!”

Panel from Slylock Fox, 1/15/11

I don’t know what I like best about this: that the sentient lobster is making a desperate bid for freedom to avoid being eaten by the sentient mouse, knowing that it’s either kill or be killed, or that Slylock finds the whole thing so amusing. “Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! It’s tearing my nose apart! For the love of God, Sly, why won’t you help me?” “Heh, heh, Max, looks like you’ve bitten off more than you can chew! Should have had your food-animal killed and slaughtered before you tried to eat it, like I did!”

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Beetle Bailey, 12/18/11

Just beneath the corny wackiness of Beetle Bailey is of course a constant undercurrent of brutal violence, but I’ve never seen it quite so explicit as it is today. We see Camp Swampy as a set of mutually hostile fiefdoms, whose simmering resentment towards each other could escalate to open carnage based on the most minor of disputes, with little that the camp commanders can do to restrain their nominal underlings. The final panel is particularly harrowing: Sarge, still so keyed up that he probably can’t even feel those visible bruises yet, stalking off wide-eyed from the mangled corpse of his rival, which he’s left among the strewn garbage and its stink lines.

Panel from Slylock Fox, 12/18/11

Ha, this is a great look at the pathetic home life of Shady Shrew! Rotting food on the floor, bugs everywhere demonstrating his failure as an insectivore, a hole in the window that instead of fixing or even covering with plastic sheeting he’s just using to lob eggs at penguins, suitcases at the ready in case he ever needs to bust out the old “No, I just got back from a long trip, I swear!” alibi, etc. Thank God his mother isn’t around to see this. (She’s not dead, just so disgusted by her son that she never comes by to visit.)

Pluggers, 12/18/11

Normally I shave off the Pluggers Sunday title panel so that you can get a better look at the actual comic itself (to punish you, I guess?) but today I wanted you to see the trio of plugger-spawn smiling at you from above the strip’s logo. Despite their genetic abnormalities, pluggers have managed to reproduce, which means there will be another generation of this comic, despite your fondest hopes! On the bright side, these young pluggers would rather sit dully on their couch diddling with computer whatsits than learn the basics of becoming a guerilla army.

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Gil Thorp, 12/12/11

Oh, man, is this winter’s Gil Thorp plot really going to be about vaguely shady tattoo artists who give tattoos to minors, which may or may not be illegal, depending on what state Milford is supposed to be in? Actually, more than the applicable laws and tattoo parlor licensure guidelines, I’m more concerned about our tattooists’ terribly ill-conceived marketing strategy. In my experience, the last people who want to emulate teen fashion are twentysomethings, since they were teenagers themselves relatively recently and are quite busy fashioning themselves as cool adults and have zero interest in being mistaken for some dumb kid in high school. No, you really have to be well into your forties before it seems like a good idea to recapture your youth by getting a tattoo at a place recommended by your 16-year-old nephew.

On the bright side, when Soul Patch and Facial Tattoo are engaging in evil plotting, they’re taking panel time away from Gil and Kaz blathering on about how they need more depth at guard or whatever.

Spider-Man, 12/12/11

I’ve always assumed the one of the main purposes of the newspaper Spider-Man comic strip is to remind newspaper readers that Spider-Man and other Marvel properties exist, and have adventures in various media formats, and that you can enjoy those adventures if you pay Marvel and its distribution partners money. But, considering the Thor movie came out in May and the DVD came out in September and we’re just now getting a Thor plot, it appears that the newspaper Spider-Man strip is just as incompetent at its job as its hero as it his.

Dick Tracy, 12/12/11

Flattop (or Putty Puss made up as Flattop, or whatever the hell is going on here) has moved from new wave ’80s hits back to the ’70s, as he now sings “Disco Inferno” while attempting to fill our hero with hot lead. I’m reassured that Dick is completely unfamiliar with the lyrics to these extremely popular song; it’s a well known fact that the music industry is dominated by communists and degenerates, and it’s best to avoid the radio altogether as a result.

Six Chix, 12/12/11

I’m all in favor of composting and everything, but I do think this strip has hilariously captured the facial expression and body posture you’d expect from someone who just accidentally stuck her hand into a jar full of rotting garbage.

Slylock Fox, 12/12/11

Not gonna lie to you: My first guess was that the this mystery would hinge on some obscure fact about the urinary habits of alligators, and I was pretty disappointed when it didn’t.