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Beetle Bailey, 10/11/09

This is a pretty sad demonstration of how Beetle’s half-century stuck in the timeless limbo of Camp Swampy will make it impossible for him to reintegrate into normal society upon his release. Like the hero of Joe Haldeman’s The Forever War, Private Bailey will leave the military and find a civilian world with mores and values outside of his understanding. For instance, he’ll find his clothes to be laughably out of date, and discover that the whimsical pastimes of his native 1950s, such as tree-sitting and breath-holding contests, are no longer relevant in the age of reality TV and Internet pornography. However, he will be pleased to find that the competitive eating scene is still alive and well, and moreover that revolutionary new technologies allow hot dogs to be cooked without being blackened to a crisp.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/11/09

Remember the classic narrative switcheroo at the climax of Silence of the Lambs, when the scene edits make you think that the FBI team is assembling outside the serial killer’s house, but it turns out that they’re in the wrong place and Jodie Foster is ringing his doorbell instead? Well, that’s sort of what happened here, without the tension or excitement. Becka and Tim have been heroically driving through a sodden golf course looking for his runaway mom, whom we’ve been led to believe is holed up in the pro shop there — when in fact they’ve broken and entered into some punk rocker’s trailer, perhaps miles away! Everything about this punk rocker — his piercings, his shaved head, his use of “street” slang like “crib” — is supposed to be terrifying and menacing to us, the solid middle-American comic-reading audience, but I feel obliged to point out that it is, in fact, his crib, and he has a right to protest random old people breaking in and attempting to hold golf lessons there.

Sally Forth, 10/11/09

Oooh, contest — what terrible habit is causing Ted to drain the Forth family finances? Keep in mind that Ted is pure of heart, so all the sleazy things you sickos are thinking of (cocaine, roulette, 15-year-old Thai male prostitutes) are out. I’m thinking that the basement shelves are groaning under the weight of his collection of first-edition GoBots, or that every time he PayPals someone on Craigslist who claims to have a copy of the Star Wars Christmas Special, he’s convinced that this is the time he won’t be disappointed.

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Crock, 10/10/09

Oh, hi Crock! Thanks for stopping by to help serve as a cautionary example in my “how not to tell a joke” clinic! Here are some quick pointers:

• “One end of a phone conversation” jokes are tricky! You have to structure it such that it seems kind of natural, but the reader still gets all the information they need to piece together what’s going on. In fact, how you parcel out that information, revealing unexpected tidbits in interesting ways, is often at the heart of the sequence’s humor! Having the one person whose dialogue you can read or hear simply repeat back what the hidden interlocutor has just said sort of kills the magic.
• However, once you’ve established that we the readers can’t hear the person at other end of the phone conversation, and thus the person we can see will be supplying the dialogue for both participants, don’t change up the rules by supplying jaggedy word balloons out of the telephone’s earpiece. It’s confusing.
• Fat people tend to be spherical or oblong, rather than linear.
• A comic that consists of three panels of some dude talking on a phone against a grey background is not particularly interesting visually.

But hey, at least your punchline didn’t make light of torture or slavery!

Mary Worth, 10/10/09

“Of course, when I say ‘right behind,’ you have to keep in mind that the Earth is a sphere, and thus any seemingly straight line will, if you follow it long enough, simply bring you back to your starting point. In that sense, I’m roughly 25,000 miles behind you, which, on the vast scale of the entire universe, is barely any distance at all. I do concede, however, that by the mundane terms in which we usually view our day-to-day existence, I could more accurately be said to be ‘right in front’ of you. But our relationship is much more elevated than that, isn’t it, Jeff?”

Spider-Man, 10/10/09

Ha ha, we all think that the Sandman has mended his ways, but … the monster is forcing his innocent daughter to watch Jay Leno! Does this madman have no decency?

Marvin, 10/10/09

This week-long plot about the fact that it smells bad when you poop in your pants has climaxed with Marvin being punched in the face, and thus I take back anything bad I may have said about it.

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Crankshaft, 10/9/09

This week’s Crankshaft has involved the angry, befuddled members of this investment group talking themselves into selling their stock at the bottom of the market. Jeff’s sole contribution has been to compulsively offer up terrible, Crankshaft-style puns, all the while wearing the look of anxious self-loathing you see in panel two. It’s as if he’s actually been possessed by his father-in-law, which scenario does have the benefit of probably meaning that Crankshaft is dead.

Mary Worth, 10/9/09

There’s been a lot of unsettling imagery in Mary Worth over the years, but I’m not sure anything in this feature has creeped me out as much as what appears to be the weird afterimage of Mary’s face at the far right of panel two here. Is this a mirror in which her reflection has become detached from her corporal form, indicating that her soul is no longer firmly associated with her body? Or are Mary and Dr. Jeff passing through the section of the hospital where all of Mary’s clones float in enormous brine-filled tanks, just waiting for the day when she needs to harvest their organs to keep her alive?

Family Circus, 10/9/09

At long last, one of the Family Circus pets is depicted doing something useful!

Funky Winkerbean, 10/9/09

In this strip? Good luck with that.