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Judge Parker, 3/15/10

And so the Mike Manley era begins in Judge Parker! I think we are all looking forward to seeing his work, and he’s got some big shoes to fill. It looks like he’s beginning with a pretty Barreto-esque style, which is natural for a transition, but I hope in the coming months he makes the strip his own, as his predecessor did. My only real complaint is the font in the dialogue balloons — I’m virtually certain that every font on the comics page these days is computer-generated rather than hand-lettered, but this one looks a bit more obvious that I’d like (though, hey, at least it’s not Comic Sans). I do note with some amusement that Sam seems to have the slim, willowy hands of a young Ted Forth.

Family Circus, 3/15/10

I’m sure the intended joke here is that the little melonheads don’t really understand how time and the calendaring process works. Obviously Daddy is supposed to be older than Mommy, as this is the natural order of things, what with Adam having been older than Eve and all. Still, since, the occasional birthday notwithstanding, the Keanes all live in some kind of endless, eternal present. They never age, but the seasons do change (and therefore the months must advance). Is there really any other way to determine age, then, other than location within the only calendar they’ll ever need?

Beetle Bailey, 3/15/10

Ha ha, Beetle prefers the finger to the fist! Seriously, most days this stuff just kind of writes itself.

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Panels from Blondie, 3/14/10

Sunday’s Blondie as a whole, in which Dagwood chases (or is chased by?) a tiny owl that may or may not be a figment of his imagination through his own house is itself a worthwhile bit of fine entertaining madness. Still, I have to say that the two throwaway panels on their own constitute a delightfully weird bit of art that deserves to be showcased in isolation. Dagwood’s just trotting along, presumably from the couch to the refrigerator, or from bed to the bath, hands in pockets, when he gets WHOO’d at. I love that his immediate reaction is not fear or panic at this unfamiliar sound, but just a mere and casual “what?” as if he could work this whole thing out if only he could hear it better.

Panel from Mary Worth, 3/14/10

Mary Worth’s epigraphical madness continues, as she’s moved beyond indie rock darlings like Leonard Cohen and Daniel Johnston to late 19th/early 20th century radical Emma Goldman.

SEPARATED AT BIRTH???

If it turns out that all of Mary’s seemingly petty meddling has been part of a long-term plan to further the cause of anarcho-syndicalist revolution, I for one will be very impressed.

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Dick Tracy, 3/13/10

I have been told that comics artists often save material they think is kind of weak — or, in continuity strips, not particularly plot advancing — for Saturday, which is the day with the lowest newspaper circulation. Thus, it came as a mild surprise to see someone actually get shot in Saturday’s Dick Tracy. But then again, someone expiring relatively quietly after receiving a single bullet to the gut is kind of weak material when it comes to Dick Tracy violence, so hopefully this is just the beginning in a sequence that will drench the comics page in blood by, say, Wednesday.

Hi and Lois, 3/13/10

Remember the grim scene in Leaving Las Vegas when Elizabeth Shue can only interest desperate drunk Nicolas Cage in her sexually by pouring liquor all over herself? Well, this is the sexless suburban version. Hi can only be bothered to think about basic household chores if he can associate it with his beloved alcohol.