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Family Circus, 9/8/12

Oh, God, something horrible happened outside, didn’t it? Those aren’t the faces of little kids who were having some fun out in the yard; those expressions are of illness and queasy terror. And then there’s Dolly, standing in the doorway, staring at them, marking their words. “Are they telling Mommy? They were specifically ordered not to tell Mommy. They know the punishment for telling Mommy: More mud pies. More mud pies. You don’t know the meaning of the word ‘filling,’ Jeffy.”

Apartment 3-G, 9/8/12

Hey, everyone, the Professor’s back! Back from … I dunno, did he go somewhere? I guess he did, they made a big deal out of his return earlier this week. Anyway, now he and Greg are bonding over their shared heritage, which seems to be causing a stone-faced Margo to vibrate with hostility in the final panel. Is she about to unleash a series of vicious anti-Greek ethnic slurs that will result in her being forever blackballed by the cabal of Hellenes who pull the strings of New York’s PR industry?

Wizard of Id, 9/8/12

The moral of today’s Wizard of Id: Don’t be lured into complacency by the false promise of nonviolent agitation for radical change! Violent expropriation of the rich’s wealth is the only path to successful class war.

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Momma, 7/5/12

Momma owns a bottle of some kind of incredibly fast-acting and powerful pesticide, which is no doubt highly toxic to all living things that come in contact with it (e.g., Francis, Momma).

Wizard of Id, 7/5/12

This lady is “keeping her husband on his toes” by threatening to have immolated alive.

Hi and Lois, 7/5/12

Ditto can control the weather, or perhaps the very flow of time itself, with his mind, but isn’t really very good at it.

Spider-Man, 7/5/12

Something about the crazed madman who sent a theaterful of people running in terror and incapacitated her super-powered husband frightens Mary Jane.

Shoe, 7/5/12

Shoe is really kind of a dick.

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Mary Worth, 6/28/12

Wow, so the letters that people write into Wilbur’s Ask Wendy advice column are … kind of abstract? I mean, usually people send notes to advice columnists with very specific questions, like “How can I convince my son to get a job and move out of the house?” or “What’s a polite way to tell my mother-in-law that how I cook isn’t any of her business?” or (scroll down to the second letter, which is the greatest letter to Dear Abby ever written) “My husband wants too much sex, should I let one of my horny friends sleep with him to take the pressure off me?” But if the letter we’re getting a glimpse of here is representative, Wilbur’s fans just write long, rambling diatribes about their overpowering ennui, full of sweeping, nonspecific complaints about our fallen age, and lacking any particular question or request for advice per se. Are these mopey types attracted to Ask Wendy because Wilbur himself is full of quiet but very deep despair, which radiates out on a frequency only other depressives can detect? Or do we have things the wrong way round — has Wilbur in fact been driven to the slough of despond by the incessant soul-crushing letters Wendy receives? You can see that Mary herself, normally indefatigable and chipper, is already buckling under the weight of sadness in panel one.

Wizard of Id, 6/28/12

In much cheerier news, the Black Death has arrived in Id, striking terror into the hearts of its inhabitants. If historical averages hold, the plague will kill a third to two-thirds of the characters in the strip, but we can always hope for more.