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Beetle Bailey, 7/29/09

The action in today’s Beetle Bailey obviously violates every workplace sexual harassment regulation known to man, not that I expect Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Enterprises LLC to realize that there might be something inappropriate about handing a co-worker a skimpy undergarment and then demanding that she put it on right in front of you. Ignoring that for the moment, though, I do have to say that I like the (probably accidental) way that the always-unsettling wiggle lines of horniness emitted by Killer’s hat-nodules form what appear to be quotation marks around the word “present.” “I got you a ‘present.’ Well, it’s not really a present for you.”

Crock, 7/29/09

Now here’s a problem that arises when the art in your strip is mangled and impenetrable: I guess today’s punchline is supposed to some cruel joke about how the librarian’s girlfriend is ugly, but this being Crock, who can tell? Whether the joke is about supposedly ugly people or supposedly pretty people, they’re all just barely-recognizable Crock-squiggles.

Dick Tracy, 7/29/09

Wait, did I say that Dick Tracy was like German expressionist film? Now that we have an elaborately dressed ringmaster responding to a tragic scene by repeatedly shouting “It happened!”, I’m updating that assessment to David Lynch.

It’s nice of Dick to address our no-doubt-implicated-in-the-crime-but-still-emotionally-tortured ringmaster as “Mr. Ringmaster.” He knows that it costs him nothing to be polite, just as it will cost our overburdened court systems nothing when he executes everyone involved without trial in front of hundreds of horrified onlookers.

Mary Worth, 7/29/09

Oh, goodness, Charley isn’t just a sex pervert, but also an alcoholic, by which I mean “someone who drinks alcohol that isn’t the terrible ketchup-red wine they serve at the Bum Boat.” Delilah is right to cringe on that couch in terror! Of course she wants plain soda water, as flavored sodas are far too exciting.

Family Circus, 7/29/09

As several faithful readers have pointed out, this Family Circus camping sequence actually consists of reruns from the early 1980s. This explains the vintage station wagon, and the hanky code.

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Pardon me for interrupting this magical trip to Charley’s sex palace, but I do want to briefly feature several items that may be of interest to you, because I wrote them! First, and perhaps most exciting, is a new thing I’m doing for Newsweek’s Human Condition blog! It’s called “MediCinema” and can best be described as “like the Comics Curmudgeon, except for prescription drug ads.” Check it out! It could be a one-off thing or it could be a regular feature, depending on its reception, so receive it well, please!

Also! I wrote a couple of possible interesting things for ITworld.com yesterday — one about funny error messages going public by mistake and one about techies changing jobs to flee from terrible tools. Check ’em out, if you’re into that sort of thing!

Finally, to prove that it isn’t all about me — for those of you who need more detail on the whole Marty DeJong backstory in Gil Thorp, turn to the incomparable This Week In Milford blog, which has a good summary and links to the DeJong-related comics from 2003 (with special appearances from a young Brent Raptor). Turns out Gil sort-of-but-not-really advised Marty to skip college and head for pro baseball. How’d that work out? Not well, as apparently a modern high school education doesn’t even prepare you to be a decent arsonist.

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Mary Worth, 7/28/09

Oh, for … are you telling me that Delilah isn’t even going to be allowed to enjoy some revenge flirting, never mind revenge sex, before having her nose rubbed in the festering singularity of human degradation that’s at Charley’s core, obscured by his smooth moves and his chest hair and his stripey shirt? Delilah is clearly not used to seeing the female form in anything less than a jumpsuit (she turns the lights off when she showers, obviously) and has been brought to the brink of vomiting by whatever piece of specialized artwork Charley has hanging in his foyer. This masterpiece is kind of hard to see, but let’s zoom in for a closer look:

My God, it appears to be a female human wearing a one-piece bathing suit! Do you expect us to believe that depraved monsters walk among us who actually collect “that sort of thing”? What do we pay taxes for if not to ensure that these sex-demons are rounded up, chemically castrated, and interned behind barbed wire in pervert camps out in Montana somewhere? Won’t somebody think of the children?

Oh yeah, the children! Charley can hang up repulsive cheesecake shots (and, worse, decadent modern art like the painting in panel two) because his love pad is a no-kids zone, which obviously makes him an inhuman devil-thing! Remember, kids are for “other people” — specifically, people who don’t live in an all-adult condo community like Charterstone, where children are specifically forbidden in rules laid down by the board. Hmm, you know, there’s another character in this strip who was married but apparently lives a childfree lifestyle … doesn’t seem the worse for it … older lady … doesn’t have her character assassinated … can’t quite place her …

Wait, I’m s sorry, I was letting my mind drift from the core message of this strip, which that Charley is a child-hating sex criminal with terrible taste in art, and that Delilah will soon enough be running away from his wall-mounted centerfolds and back to her lonely, empty apartment, where at least her virginal eyes are shielded from such horror. Let’s take another look at that painting so we can condemn it further, shall we?

You know, now that I’m looking at it again, it seems that the lampshade is almost the exact same flesh tone as the model in Charley’s awful picture. Maybe that’s what’s got Delilah so worked up — it’s part of Charley’s “ladies I have skinned” collection. “Kids are for other people, Delilah! Sure, there are kid specialists, but there just isn’t enough raw material in your average child to make a nice lamp or even a book binding. Frankly, I don’t have the patience to capture enough to meet my needs!”

Gil Thorp, 7/28/09

Hey, Gil Thorp, you know how excited I was when I realized you’d be bringing back beloved characters from the past? Well, I’d appreciate it if they weren’t from before December of 2004, when I started reading this strip. Fortunately, faithful reader dannymo has the story, which, in a nutshell, is that Marty DeJong led Milford’s baseball team to the last championship anyone can remember, but ruined his arm in the process, leading him angry and brooding and hungry for fiery revenge against Coach Thorp. I predict Gil will somehow get him to coach the hobo little league, completely displacing Ted Pearse, who will respond by burning Gil’s house to the ground.

Marmaduke, 7/28/09

I’m a little concerned about precisely what vaguely spherical head-sized object Mrs. Hitler has in that sack; I worry that it is, in fact, a severed human head, and this is part of some plan of hers to teach her unruly dog a modicum of manners. “Look, he’s got to understand that human heads are not toys! It’s the only way he’ll learn!”