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Dick Tracy, 7/4/16

Hey, everybody, remember the Space Coupe? Last we saw it, a couple of bad guys had stolen it, but its inventor Diet Smith had taken control of it remotely and sent it drifting endlessly into deep space. Today, two years later, in honor of our nation’s independence, Dick Tracy wants to remind you that it’s still out there, whirling forever in the vast nothingness. Did Dr. Ghote and Dr. Sail gradually suffocate as the Coupe’s oxygen slowly ran out, giving them ample time to understand their inevitable fate? Or does the magical technology that allows the vessel to move without obvious propulsion or thrust also provide infinite oxygen, leaving the ne’er-do-wells to instead confront starvation, staved off temporarily only by a brief, violent turn to cannibalism? Either way, happy birthday, America!

Six Chix, 7/4/16

On this holiday when many Americans are travelling to attend cookouts with friends and family, Six Chix would like to remind you that every social event is nothing more than a prison!

Beetle Bailey, 7/4/16

Meanwhile, in Beetle Bailey, the mullosks have evolved language capabilities so they can beg us not to kill and eat them.

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Crankshaft, 7/3/16

There are two punchlines in this strip: “Crankshaft ham-handedly flirts with the pharmacist,” and “Crankshaft takes out his anger with the American medical system on the pharmacist,” and neither of them are funny. A pharmacy called “Drug Lords” is funny, though. At least to me. I’m a man of simple tastes, guys.

Hi and Lois, 7/3/16

Here’s the story of a man trying, and failing, to impress his family. If his frozen smile in the last panel doesn’t break your heart, I’m not sure what will. Enjoy your holiday weekend, everybody!

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Mark Trail, 7/2/16

So our mysterious circa 2014 sea-tourists have decamped to a deserted island, to make out! Hat Lady’s pouty face in panel one looks hilariously sarcastic to me? [fake baby voice] “Aww, I’m so sorry something bit your tender skin, little boy. NOW GET OVER HERE AND KISS ME LIKE A MAN WOULD KISS ME.” Presumably when Mark stumbles onto this island two years from now, these two will have fully mutated into ant-people.

Shoe, 7/2/16

A fun thing to do when you encounter an obvious euphemism for “had sex,” like “been romantic” in panel one here, is to contemplate whether an editor demanded the change or if the writer knew it had to be toned down for the “funny pages.” I for one yearn for the days when a bird-man wearing saddle shoes and what appear to be purple leg warmers but no pants can have a frank, honest, and open discussion about his sex life in the newspaper.