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Beetle Bailey, 10/17/12

If you were seeing this strip out of context, you might think that its implications about Killer’s notoriously aggressive sexual advances are really quite dark, with Miss Buxley’s worries about the “tree” being “hurt” being some kind of protective psychological displacement mechanism. But longtime Beetle Bailey readers know that it probably just has something to do with the fact that both Killer and Miss Buxley like to hump up on trees, constantly.

Mark Trail, 10/17/12

There’s a lot to say here about global income inequality, which means that someone who considers themselves middle- or even working class in the U.S. lives a life of unimaginable privilege compared to most in the developing world; or we could discuss the ambiguity that arises when employees have access to corporate luxury assets, and what this says about their wealth in practical terms. Mostly, though, I just wanted to put this comic here so that every embittered worker in the various dying wordsmithing industries can grab panel two and use it as their computer desktop wallpaper.

Apartment 3-G, 10/17/12

Guys, I’m … I’m beginning to suspect that Margo may not be very good at running a publicity agency.

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Mark Trail, 10/16/12

In ancient Greek tragedies, hubris is inevitably followed by a generally violent comeuppance. And so too in Mark Trail! Mark and Bill Ellis thought they could party like big shots on Woods and Wildlife’s fabulous corporate yacht (not pictured), sailing down to the Caribbean for a few days’ worth of fishing, but instead they’ve been waylaid by these gun-toting, festively dressed, splendidly mustached foreigners. I suppose they’re going to turn out to be drug smugglers or the like, but given that Mark and Bill seem to have just sailed down there in the yacht and then started a-fishin’, I prefer to believe that they’re customs officials from some extremely relaxed island nation that doesn’t feel a need to spend a lot of money on “uniforms” or “offices” for their government employees. Another possibility, given that Lead Baddie’s exposed chest has suddenly become bright pink in panel three, is that they’re shape-shifting aliens who want to kidnap Mark and Bill to their outer-space probatorium.

Marvin, 10/15/12

Let’s say you’re a person who writes jokes, on the Internet! If that were the case, there would be few things more harrowing than a cartoon dog sitting at a desk, taking a desultory slurp of coffee, and then tapping out some terrible humor-like prose, all while sporting a numb, heavy-lidded facial expression. BRRRRRRR.

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Hagar the Horrible, 10/15/12

“Maybe I shouldn’t have spent the night before I led my men into a brutal, hand-to-hand combat, during which they must either kill or be killed, filling their heads with tales of damned souls, wandering the earth as dim spectres, mere shadows of their former selves. Which thought do you think is more likely to jump into their heads unbidden it the midst of this violent melee: that they themselves will be felled in battle and their shade will live on, with the wounds and terror they feel now continuing for eternity? Or that, for the rest of their lives, every time they feel a prickling on the back of their neck or an unseasonably icy wind across their face, they’ll suspect that it’s the vengeful spirit of a man they cut down, haunting them until they succumb to madness and terror?”

Hi and Lois, 10/15/12

Ha, and if Hi’s face is any indication, he sure has earned the right to use the word “boring”! If Hi’s face is any indication, today was the day when his capacity to feel joy or pain or anything at all really was finally snuffed out by the intense ennui of mindless, soulless corporate dronery. Get used to that face, kids, it’s the only one he can make now!

Slylock Fox, 10/15/12

In order for the Slylockian world anthropomorphic animals to exist, there must be some kind of apocalyptic event in our future and their past, during which the lower beasts achieved sentience and most of the human population was wiped out, presumably violently. Normally I don’t take this personally, but something about today’s strip, in which we learn that these horror-monsters are riding our subway to our Brooklyn, makes me angry. You didn’t build that, hippo-thing! Neither did you, shirt-wearing cat! The thought of the Museum of Natural History, presumably now retooled and dedicated to the animals’ triumph over the now exterminated human race, particularly sickens me.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/15/12

Oh my goodness, I sure hope that “the party business” is the euphemism for prostitution that the writer of Rex Morgan and King Features Syndicate agreed on after several tortuous weeks of negotiations! Junior knows, and so does that cheery looking couple sitting on the bench. “That Junior, he runs the best brothel in San Diego County, doesn’t he, Martha?” “You can say that again, dear!”

B.C., 10/15/12

Hey! I just flew Southwest yesterday, and as usual the flight and service were excellent, and not once did anyone attempt to feed me something that they barfed and/or shat out (sorry, I’ve already grossed myself out enough just thinking about this, not going to look up how gizzards actually work, I’m afraid there’ll be pictures).

Spider-Man, 10/15/12

You know, the modern, Internet-savvy newsroom is a high-pressure, 24/7 operation, so it’s nice to see that J. Jonah Jameson still takes time to humiliate his employees with elaborate, improvised, and extremely sarcastic little skits.