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Slylock Fox, 11/27/06

Today Slylock Fox takes a break from its usual kid-friendly fare to take us on a voyage into a shadowy demimonde of sleaze and degradation. Pretty much every aspect of this drawing is magnificent, from the scantily clad nightclub ladies, to the enormous purple-suited dog-thing (presumably their pimp) boogying down behind them, to the impassive bull bouncer standing outside, to Max Mouse’s decision to wear earmuffs and a scarf but no shirt.

My question is: Is this the same beaver who got his luggage stolen at LAX a couple of weeks ago? Why is he such a frequent victim of crime? I’m guessing it’s because he looks so hilarious when he’s indignant.

Mark Trail, 11/27/06

Yeah, Mark, I’m sure he’ll be very excited to learn that Molly’s safe, especially considering that he had no reason to believe that she wouldn’t be safe, since he left her in the hands of an experienced outdoorsman and all. It’s like the time I took care of a friend’s cat when she was out of the country, and the cat had some pretty disgusting gastrointestinal problems, but I didn’t tell her about it until after I took the cat to the vet and got it all worked out. Except I sought medical attention for the cat as soon as I realized he was sick instead of leaving him in the back of an open jeep so that he could be kidnapped by morons with stupid hair. So, my point, Trail, is good luck casually playing this bearnapping incident off when you go see Buck in the hospital.

Yes, that moose is talking out of its butt in the second panel. No, I don’t know why that’s happening or how to make it stop.

Luann, 11/27/06

You know, many months ago, I completely in jest accused Sally Forth of taking payola from Target and/or Rush. I wish I could say that I have no actual suspicions about today’s Luann, but the floating little ® bug after “Home Depot” gives me the uncomfortable feeling that we’re witnessing some kind of horrifying corporate synergy in the making. The only shred of hope I have to cling to is that the ® is subscripted, not superscripted as it should be, so it practically looks like somebody’s trademarked the word “fix” (which, frankly, I wouldn’t put past Home Depot®).

Anyway, all this speculation about artistic whoredom has at least blessedly distracted me from the joke in this strip, which is the always hilarious MEN ARE FROM MARS AND WOMEN ARE FROM VENUS HAW HAW WHAT’RE YA GONNA DO? Because I’m feeling generous, though, I will say that Momma DeGroot’s facial expression in the second panel is pretty funny.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/27/06

Like Troy Gainer, I’m not actually a doctor, but I’m still pretty sure that nobody’s eyes look like June’s in panel two unless they’ve already consumed copious amounts of meth. I’m beginning to see why she’s so eager to hook up with Niki’s mom.

By the way, I defy anyone to come up with a good explanation for a sock lying on top of a lampshade that doesn’t involve a set dresser presented with instructions that contain the phrase “cartoonishly squalid.”

Garfield, 11/27/06

Today’s Garfield appears to contain a reference to Jon’s penis.

Apartment 3-G, 11/27/06

Today’s Apartment 3-G appears to contain a reference to one of two slang terms for Eric Mills’s penis.

Actually, it took Mrs. C., romantic that she is, to point out to me that the four-letter word to which Tommie is referring is probably “love.” In my defense, I have a hard time conceiving of “Margo” and “love” in the same sentence. Margo requires worship, and servicing. Love doesn’t really enter into the equation.

Bizarre Apartment 3-G fashion update: Tommie’s weird white-sweatshirt-over-dusty-pink-polo-shirt combo seems to be slowly morphing into a slightly kickier futuristic two-tone zip-up jumpsuit. And while Margo’s decision to wear a white micro-miniskirt to Thanksgiving dinner was ultimately successful in the rich-guy-seducing department, it was also an embarrassing gravy stain disaster waiting to happen.

Funky Winkerbean, 11/27/06

Attention, comics writers who are thinking of ending a strip with a gentle bit of punny wordplay and depicting the characters engaged in said wordplay demonstrating through their facial expressions their mild appreciation for same: we already have one For Better Or For Worse and do not require another. Thank you.

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Slylock Fox, 11/20/06

There are some puzzling narrative decisions going on in this Slylock Fox. Apparently the artist has tired of actually drawing the mystery scenarios and has decided to settle for the thrilling visual spectacle of Slylock reading a word problem to a group of schoolchildren. Still, I’m so God-damned trained by this feature that I keep staring at the clock on the wall, thinking that the fact that it’s ten after nine is an important clue of some sort.

Perhaps once he’s assessed their fitness for detective work, he can explain how you can make a living from butting into other people’s disputes and solving them with elementary deduction. Max Mouse, meanwhile, is just courting death. It’s bad enough that Slylock brought the tiny rodent into a class full of predator animals, but Max’s inability to keep away from the teacher’s apple should by all rights get him devoured before recess.

Judge Parker, 11/20/06

As Raju heads off into the boat-wrestling sunset, I hope that we get lots and lots more Celeste Black to fill the void. I’m loving her swoopy arm gestures in the first panel here; presumably she’s performing an interpretive dance piece entitled “Jesus Christ I’m so hung over WHY ARE THE LIGHTS ON SO FUCKING BRIGHT IN HERE I hate you all”.

Archie, 11/20/06

Archie is, of course, a moron, but the setup for this joke was so convoluted that it’s hard to blame him for his poster verbiage faux pas. I’m more concerned about the fact that this placard was created in an art class, and yet is essentially just a bunch of words on a big piece of paper. The curved line at the bottom doesn’t make it “art,” and “Mr. Weatherbee” isn’t even centered properly. Pretty sloppy, Andrews.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 11/20/06

Sorry I couldn’t work up the energy to cover last week’s Rex Morgan, during most of which June was holding our mop-haired purse-snatcher at broompoint. If you only follow this strip through my commentary on it, you should know that we learned a few things last week about our cast of characters. We found out that Nikki and his trashy mom are Katrina-driven evacuees from New Orleans, forced to live in the slums of Rex Morganville because George Bush doesn’t care about white people. We also learned that if you take June’s purse she will never let you forget about it.

There’s some problematic punctuation going on in our omniscient narrative box at the upper left. No sentence in which the main verb is modified by the word “reluctantly” should ever end in an exclamation mark.

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For Better Or For Worse, 11/13/06

OK, so maybe this final panel doesn’t mean what we all think it means. Maybe it’s been punctuated wrong. Maybe Elizabeth means, “You’ve changed so much? I don’t believe it. I think you’re the same whiny, passive-aggressive, schlubby, boring, dull, soul-crushingly dull, boring, boring, boring, dull, annoying, whiny…”

Oh, who the hell am I fooling. TRUE LOVE CANNOT BE STOPPED.

Mary Worth, 11/13/06

Aw, see, Mary? She’s just as scared of you as you are of her! It’s like it is with bears! And speaking of bears…

Mark Trail, 11/13/06

Huh, some of that dialogue seems awful familiar … almost as if I’d heard it before somewhere else. But where could that have been?

Mark Trail, 11/11/06

God damn it, Mark Trail, don’t you move slowly enough without, you know, just repeating the same damn dialogue over two strips? At least Jake and Snake have swapped lines in what’s suddenly become some kind of low-rent, heavily armed Waiting for Godot. The giant rabbit has fled, presumably out of boredom.

I do have to admit that if I were in the process of being kidnapped by mulleted cabin-dwelling bearnappers, I would be profoundly uncomfortable to learn that my fate would be determined “back at the cave.”

Slylock Fox, 11/13/06

I’m not resentful that I spent five minutes staring at Slick Smitty’s coat, trying to figure out if the fact that he was wearing a suit and had rolled up his sleeves was a clue about the origin of his latest flight; nor do I begrudge the fact that the crucial clue to this puzzle is Smitty’s watch, which is completely illegible. Rather, I take umbrage on behalf of our broad-tailed, buck-toothed friend. Why is he just “the beaver”? Why doesn’t he get a patented Slylock Fox clever name, like “Bobby Beaver” or “Buford Beaver” or maybe even “Castor?” Instead it’s just “the beaver,” like they’re all alike, like their individuality doesn’t matter. This strip is racist.

Family Circus, 11/13/06

Translation: “When I grow up, I’m going to move as far away from the rest of you losers as the science of the age will allow.”

Marvin, 11/13/06

Wow, Marvin sure isn’t afraid to disparage Italians. Good thing none of them live in Indiana, right? Right? What? Uh oh.