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Blondie, 8/2/09

Like many victims of abuse, this dedicated civil servant seems to take the horrible injuries dished out by Dagwood to be merely his lot in life. Blondie slips easily into her role as enabler, assuring poor Mr. Beasley that her monstrous husband “doesn’t mean it” and “it’s not his fault, he’s just late,” and “he won’t do it again” — platitudes that neither of them believe.

Hi and Lois, 8/2/09

Never have the Flagstons done so well at their appointed task of representing the typical middle American family: their insatiable appetite for entertainment — entertainment that can only be achieved through conspicuous consumption — leads them to go on vacations that they simply cannot afford, leading inevitably to financial ruin.

Hagar the Horrible, 8/2/09

“Oh … that Paris! My band of Viking warriors burned it to the ground, slaughtering the inhabitants who resisted us and enslaving the survivors! Why do you ask?”

Marvin, 8/2/09

Cementing his place as the most hated character on the comics page, Marvin attempts to have the municipal animal control service impound and euthanize the family pets. Fortunately, he’s only able to thought-balloon into the phone, leaving him to stew in his own impotent rage (and, since this is Marvin, presumably in his own excrement).

Mary Worth, 8/2/09

And that was the day that Charley removed the last non-porn DVD from his collection, as it apparently scares the ladies off. Delilah, meanwhile, hearing the lyrics “never let her go,” returns to her true love: Mary Worth.

The Phantom, 8/2/09

The Sunday Phantom plotline for the last God knows how long has focused on the royal love triangle summed up with admirable economy in the throwaway panels above; the “other woman” is in fact Captain Lara, Rex’s personal bodyguard, and Rex King is in fact a monarch (thus the name — get it? Is it obvious enough?). Anyway, I haven’t been covering this plot, because it’s been pretty dull, so you can imagine my surprise to see it resolved by Lara simply gunning down her rival in a lover’s rage.

Judge Parker, 8/2/09

Oh, and Judge Parker is still about horse-fucking, FYI.

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Mark Trail, 8/1/09

Many of you weak-kneed liberals have been demanding that Mark call the so-called “police” in regards to the tragedy unspooling in Lost Forest, or involve the EPA or some other big-government bureaucracy to right these wrongs. You fail to understand that justice flows from only one source in this realm: not from laws drawn up by the people’s duly elected and appointed representatives, but from Mark’s own preternaturally clear vision of right and wrong. When it comes to a monster who’s willing to dump toxic chemicals off a cliff and grievously and precisely wound from a distance, Andy’s nose is the only investigator we need, and Mark’s fists the only appropriate punishment. Note that even the forest itself is helping speed the moment of good’s triumph, as it baffles and disorients our assassin, leading him right into Mark’s waiting knuckles.

Apartment 3-G, 8/1/09

Despite her overwhelming sadness, Margo is being quite considerate here; as her acidic tears would burn right through human flesh in mere seconds, she makes sure to catch them in an asbestos handkerchief she carries just for that purpose.

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Gil Thorp, 7/31/09

I was hoping that Marty DeJong’s wrath was going to cause some actual introspection on the part of Gil on how he handles his young charges, but what with Kaz’s quick quips, I see now that these meatheads are completely incapable of self-reflection of any sort without drastic measures. So: remember how at the beginning of The Sixth Sense, Donnie Wahlberg breaks into Bruce Willis’s house and totally kills him, but he doesn’t realize it, and he’s, like, a ghost throughout the whole movie? Well, what if that’s what’s going to happen here? Marty DeJong has in fact already burned down Thorpe Manor, killing the entire Milford coaching staff. Since they very rarely interact with the student athletes they ostensibly coach, and much of the actual day-to-day coaching work is performed by random community members who wander in off the street, it may take them until the middle of basketball season to realize that they’re dead; when that moment comes, they’ll finally walk off into the light in order to reach the next plane of existence, greeted by a white-robed Clambake.

Dick Tracy, 7/31/09

“Yeah, I mean, she’s dead already, so belay that order to do anything urgent about it. We’ve all seen a dead body or twelve, am I right? I know I have. C’mon, these people paid good money for their circus tickets, on with the show! You might want to throw a blanket over her, if you can find one around somewhere; no big deal, otherwise.”

Curtis, 7/31/09

I haven’t mentioned how Curtis has been all Oedipal and creepy and weird for the last two weeks, with Curtis and his dad fighting for Diane’s attention with dueling ailments, but boy howdy has it been all Oedipal and creepy and weird. At least most of the strips have contained actual jokes, or reasonable joke substitutes; today’s strip seems to be under the impression that being Oedipal and creepy and weird qualifies as a punchline in and of itself.