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Beetle Bailey, Ziggy, The Better Half, 9/29/08

Cartoonists have always known that technology is funny all by itself, so there’s no need for frills like an actual joke — perfect for a lazy Monday! I’m sure that when the inscriptions at Lascaux are finally translated from the proto-Gallic, at least one will read, “OMG — TEH FIREZ! TEH SPEARZ! ROFLMAO”!

Apartment 3G, 9/29/08

Hey, it’s really Alan, and he’s not only merely dead, he’s really most sincerely dead! That means something actually happened in slow-as-molasses Apartment 3G — mere weeks after Dewey Cheatham bought the farm in that Sultan of Stasis, Judge Parker. Maybe the authors finally gave up trying to spin their characters’ endless chattering into some kind of plot and rose up like Gary Larson’s vulture to proclaim, “I’m tired of waiting — let’s kill something!” We can only hope.

Mary Worth, 9/29/08

No such risk here! After endless weeks of first the bank’s and then victim-turned-consultant Terry Bryson’s attempts to calm Toby down after her non-crisis, Mary now asks for a (doubtless week-long) recap of the non-events. You can tell Toby’s learned her lesson, though. From the steely glint in her eye and the firm set of her chin, you know she’s headed right back to enormoushop.com to download that “Safety Cats” security screensaver before this nightmare can happen again!

I’m sitting in for Josh this week — you can reach me for site-related issues like server problems or comments caught in the spam filter at bio@jfruh.com, which forwards to me for the duration. If you need to reach Josh personally, use jfruh@jfruh.com, but expect delays.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Herb and Jamaal, 9/20/08

Pity poor Herb, who’s been reduced to making a series of “funny” reaction facial expressions in his own comic strip while his doctor dishes out the “jokes.” Sure, the strip could have been recast with almost no effort at all so that it consisted of actual dialog being exchanged, by why bother when you have the option of non-stop hilarity in its purest form: a lecture from a doctor with comical hair. At least Herb got to contribute something, rather than just silently picking something up while a stranger contemplates adoption like Jamaal did earlier this week.

Ziggy, 9/20/08

Sassy mice claiming rights beyond their station might appear in any number of second-tier long-running comic strips (see for instance Garfield, 9/8-11/08). But that crooked-mouthed expression of pure humiliation and helplessness on our hero’s face? That’s the special soul-blighting value-add you only get from Ziggy.

Mark Trail, 9/20/08

“He’s a filthy animal that we let live in our house because we’re insane! He’s covered with fleas, and he steals things, and he has rabies!”

Apartment 3-G, 9/20/08

Wow, this took a turn for the depressing real fast. Uh, don’t do drugs, kids, OK?

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Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/5/08

Oh, Rex Morgan, M.D.! You send us into the weekend with a double dose of delight! Should we snicker at the image of Rex headed down to the docks this evening, offering up his middle-class body to the rough affections of those salty sailors, just off the boat and ready for action? Or should we giggle at the thought of Lenore tying Rex to the bedposts in the “captain’s cabin,” demonstrating just the sort of submissive attitude she demands of her cabin boys? Darn it, this is America, where you can have it all, so I choose both.

Ziggy, 9/5/08

Ha ha, remember a few months ago, when Ziggy picked up a seashell and got a virus alert? Or three weeks ago, when he picked up a seashell and discovered that it was a podcast? Well, uh, it turns out that today it’s a push poll. What will it be tomorrow? Tune in to Ziggy to find out!

Herb and Jamaal, 9/5/08

Every once in a while, I think, “Do I make fun of Herb and Jamaal a little too much for being nonspecific.” Then I see stuff like this and think “No, no I don’t.” Now see here, Herb and Jamaal: I know that thirty years from now, we might use something entirely different to remove hair from whatever surface future fashion dictates be depilated, so you might try to just deploy some generic and nonexistent word that means “object that shaves” to avoid any future anachronism, but: they’re called “razors.” Razors, damn you. Razors.

Oh, it’s also called “cripplingly strict adherence to prescribed gender constructs even when they interfere with your everyday life.”

Gil Thorp, 9/5/08

So it turns out that the aforementioned athletics-kiboshing ailment is [music sting] a HEART CONDITION! I wonder how Matt’s heart will hold up when he finds out his girlfriend is a seven-foot tall drag queen named “Candy LaChance.”