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Family Circus, 4/7/16

I would feel sorry for that angel too! Imagine you’re a supernatural, superhuman being, and you suddenly find yourself in combat with a human being, of the sort that your kind hasn’t experienced since the days of Jacob — and this tiny troglodytic creature not only manages to overcome you, but through some unknown power steals your voice. Why, the whole structure of the universe must be under threat! You must warn God — but how, when you cannot speak or scream or even whisper?

Beetle Bailey, 4/7/16

For a strip that takes place entirely within the context of the U.S. military, Beetle Bailey has remarkably little to say about wars, which is interesting considering that the U.S. military has been engaging in one or more wars non-stop for the entirety of the last fourteen and a half years. So when you get strips like today, where warplanes shower Camp Swampy with flowers to let everyone know they’ve had a “successful mission,” which presumably means showering some other country with high explosives — well, it’s hard to know if this is some kind of biting commentary or rah-rah boosterism or just, “Hey, you know how planes usually drop bombs on people? Well, get a load of this.”

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Crock, 4/6/16

Ha ha, “downloading” is definitely a word related to computers in some way, and “the recycle bin” is definitely part of the desktop metaphor used in the popular Windows operating system! “Download that to the old recycle bin,” that’s what the kids say, when they’re surfing on their PCs and such. Hilarious! In other news, due to the inexorable march of mechanical efficiency, this domesticated camel is no longer needed by its human masters, and so it will be released into the wild to inepty fend for itself, or possibly just killed so its carcass can be processed for a number of industrial uses.

Judge Parker, 4/6/16

Speaking of the inexorable march of efficiency, I’m very excited to hear that Neddy’s half-baked plan to out-compete Chinese labor by extracting the last few useful labor-hours out of government-subsidized old people has now become a “movement.” And look in that gleam in Foster Chubb’s eyes! This is a man who thought he could grift the Spencer-Parkers with comically stagy wound dressings, so sure, he’s 100% on board with this “groundswell of support” that will somehow defeat basic economics.

Six Chix, 4/6/16

Definitely if I had died, and my immortal soul had been misplaced in some mysterious subvoid for an uncountable age, and then I was yanked out of that only to be shepherded into an even more unknowable afterlife, that’s the dazed, terrified expression I’d have on my face.

Hi and Lois, 4/6/16

Hey guys, uhhhhhh, it turns out Trixie can read? This has a number of unsettling implications that I’m reasonably sure aren’t going to be pursued.

Mary Worth, 4/6/16

“I mean, I could tell after one class that Harlan Jones doesn’t know jack shit about art history, and he still got a job here, so there must be something to it!”

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Blondie, 4/5/16

As part of my mission of putting way, way too much thought into the comics, I put way, way too much thought into Lou’s “here” in the second panel. The joke of not naming a sandwich “bumstead” makes perfect sense, especially when written by a creative team that inherited this name from the 1930s, when it was presumably kind of funny. But what does Lou mean by “here”? Does he have other restaurants? Is the “club” in question not an abstract entity that would grant membership to sandwich fans, but an actual, physical location, like a nightclub, but for sandwiches? Is Dagwood not invited to this nightclub? Is Dagwood the saddest man in the world?

Crankshaft, 4/5/16

Oops, Mary, looks like you found out that you’re the “cool girl” the dudes use as an excuse to shit on other women! You are 100% right to look concerned.