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Mark Trail, 5/9/17

Each of these law enforcement officers is all man, of course: you can tell by their rugged features and aggressively retreating hairlines. But it seems they’re the last bastion of traditional American can-do masculinity in this sadly enfeebled police force. They should be out there rounding up known scumbags and maybe busting a head or two in the interrogation room in order to track down these kidnappers, but instead they’re sitting around the office waiting for the fancy college-boy “analysts” to pinpoint what’s “weird” about the criminals’ “body language” like they work at Us Magazine, for Pete’s sake! Hurry it up in there, brainiacs, Mark can’t keep up his soothing baritone monologue for much longer!

Spider-Man, 5/9/17

Oh, man, remember the greatest Newspaper Spider-Man storyline of all time, when Aunt May wanted to marry the Mole-Man and Spidey tried various techniques to thwart their love but eventually the nuptials had to be called off because Aunt May developed Spelunker’s Lung and couldn’t serve as queen of her beloved’s cave-kingdom? Welp, it looks like Mole-Man has finally decided he needs to see his ex again, if only to know that she’s happy, and since Aunt May has no Instagram for him to stalk, he’s got to do the logical thing: follow her to Los Angeles, keeping a low profile by dressing like a dwarfish pimp, and stare at her longingly through the window of a restaurant that’s recently rebranded itself to cash in on La La Land fever. Sadly, one of LA’s omnipresent Beefy Restaurant Security Guys is going to escalate this situation into an unnecessary mole-fracas.

Beetle Bailey, 5/9/17

I’m not sure who exactly this joke is for. Is it meant to prompt legacy comics trufans into knowing grins as they think to themselves “Ah, yes, Beetle Bailey and Lois Flagston are siblings, one of the comics’ lesser-known trivia items”? Is there a Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Industries LLC company-wide policy on occasionally reminding readers of this, so as to lay the groundwork for the Bailey-Flagston Cinematic Universe franchise they’re very much hoping to sell to a major studio? All I know is that this postal worker is justifiably horrified to learn about the abuse and bullying that are sadly rife in our armed forces.

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I’m back, everybody! Huge thanks to all who contributed to the fundraiser, and huge thanks to Uncle Lumpy for his as always hilarious fill-in and fundraising work! I’ll be writing personal thank-yous to all contributors (and, of course, to Uncle Lumpy) this week. But now, on to comics! Say, did any beloved legacy strips take a sharp left turn into explicit vomit fetishism while I was gone?

Hagar the Horrible, 5/8/17

Ha ha! Well, I have to say the year 2017 is exactly as depraved and horrifying as we might’ve all hoped!

Six Chix, 5/8/17

Speaking of the dystopian future, these ladies look like primitive huntresses but I suppose based on their dialogue we’re supposed to imagine this incident as taking place after a worldwide collapse of the interconnected global civilization that made things like “online shopping” and “shopping” and “online” possible. The ladies look perky enough, but the bleak, utterly barren landscape is bad news. I’m not sure if the cataclysm was a climate-change-driven ecological collapse or a global war that scoured the Earth bare with atomic fire, but it’s clear that our heroines are just scavenging for whatever critters are left that haven’t themselves succumbed to starvation, and cannibalism is the logical next and final step.

Slylock Fox, 5/8/17

I was about to brag about the fact that I remembered this strip from when it first ran more than a decade ago, but I was horrified to discover that back then I couldn’t even remember the name of beloved rodent sidekick Max Mouse! For shame! Anyway, I’m still horrified by this story of a grandmother whose response to some low grade cookie theft on the part of her grandchildren is to literally call in the police to browbeat a confession out of them, but I will say that the larger comics images I have access to today definitely let me see how very smug the grandkid on the left is. Smug enough to make this brutal introduction to the police state good grandparenting? No. But you can begin to see the motivation, at least.

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Mary Worth, 5/7/17

Derek strides determined onto the smoking deck, the new pack in his fist a taut miracle of cellophane, paper, foil, and promise — of hours of pleasant anticipation, indulgence, and satisfaction. Unguided, his hands repeat the practiced rituals that release the first cigarette of twenty — twenty, by God — fresh, firm, fragrant, perfect. The match glows in his cupped hands as the head burns off, and the flame kisses the tobacco into life.

Confusion of fire, ash, and ember as the tip catches, then blessed smoke, warming his lip as it passes over, bathing his mouth in electric mist. Teasing himself, he savors the pungent earthiness and the cascade of memories recalled from half a lifetime of such moments — in terror, bliss, bitter cold — before drawing it deeply in. Relishing the familiar catch in his throat, he closes his eyes to bathe in his first deliberate, fully conscious breath in what seems like months.

Full, rich, warm, radiant, held, and released softly as a sigh, his spent breath scrolls effortlessly back into the sea air. The shimmering silver column pauses for just a moment at the rail, then streams abaft to dissolve in the tropical sunlight.

The old, remembered music rises in his ears, an impossibly high-pitched sostenuto from a faraway violin, along with a placid warmth and golden lightness radiating throughout his body, and keen appreciation of every sensation etched into this moment: sun hot on his arms, breeze soft on his cheeks, whisper of scent from a woman now at his side.

“Oh, hi — Esmée, isn’t it? Nice day, huh?”

Curtis, 5/7/17

OK, this strip is a knockoff of the “Curtis is humiliated trying on clothes” series in which a dressing-room door flies open to reveal Curtis in his underwear before a sudden storeful of jeering spectators. But hey waitaminute – what is this crowd laughing at? Chutney’s an attractive girl, and has been drawn even more so over the years – surely “boyfriend” and “date” aren’t laughably out of the question.

So they must be laughing at Curtis — so selfish, shallow, and incapable of love or friendship that they snap pictures of the famous monster to show their friends. Curtis is headed toward a really dark place — no pepperoni for you, jerkwad!

Phantom, 5/7/17

Hey, I know I plug this strip like it’s my job or something even though folks like Josh aren’t feeling it. But c’mon, people: Jungle Patrol! Minions of ‘The Python’ Chatu! résumé-building “Leopard Print” Hawa and “Full Auto” Kay! Captain “Jimmy Olsen” Weeks in full “Golly, Colonel” mode! Colonel Worubu himself rocking his fourpack in that breechclout! That’s some quality entertainment right there.

But as long as the evildoers (evilsayers, really) are all lined up on their knees like that, I’d avoid saying things like “brilliant execution” — somebody in this crew could easily get the wrong idea.

Hey, that’s it for me — Josh will be back early tomorrow, continuing the great circle of whatever this is. Thank you for a lovely time!

–Uncle Lumpy