Post Content

Slylock Fox, 10/12/08

This here in a nutshell is why my growing affection for Reeky Rat doesn’t translate into respect for his fellow small-mammal small-time crook, Shady Shrew. When caught in his acts of petty theft, Reeky adopts an air of sneering bravado, spinning alibis so outrageous that he’s almost daring you to throw him in jail. Shady, on the other, just seems pathetic, his attempts at pinning his pointless crimes (stealing tires off a police car?) on others just coming across as increasingly desperate improvisations. In addition, Reeky has an inimitable sense of style, while Shady favors the baggy, shapeless uniform of furtive perverts everywhere.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/12/08

Never has this strip come closer to really acknowledging its transformation from light-hearted high school romp to depressing trudge towards inevitable death. “I miss the days when everything ahead was bright and shining … instead of foggy, and grey, and full of tumors.”

Judge Parker, 10/12/08

You read it here first, everybody: THE DOG DID IT. That creepy little critter stole the rifle and took its revenge on the man who dumped the owner she adores. She’s smiling at you because she knows you’ll never figure it out, Sam.

I’m glad to see that the Phoenix police department has loosened its dress code enough so that black leather pants are OK for homicide detectives to wear on the job.

Post Content

Gil Thorp, 10/11/08

The only Marty Moon strips I like better than the ones where he passes out drunk in his car are the ones where he’s proven ragingly incompetent at his job. Surely a reporter with years of experience covering high school sports shouldn’t get rattled by some seventeen-year-old’s idea of being a difficult interview, even if he is 6′ 9″? (I note the latter fact because this may be the first strip in weeks in which Jeff Ponczak has appeared and nobody’s mentioned his height.) Anyway, Jeff has made a terrible enemy of Marty Moon, for making him look bad on his crappy public access show that nine people watch! Marty’s vengeance against his many nemeses — Cully Vale, Gil Thorp, that Ben Franklin lookalike golf hustler guy — has generally either backfired hilariously or just gone unnoticed by its intended targets, so hopefully we are in for some wacky hijinks.

Dick Tracy, 10/11/08

The current Dick Tracy plot, involving impractical robots on opposite sides of the law, will be painfully boring until the robots fight, and maybe even then, but today’s strip deserves commentary for two points. One, I am spending way too much mental energy wondering why Dick Tracy’s robot speaks in some kind of vowel-poor version of l33t-speak but the bad guy’s robot doesn’t; and two, “Elsewhere” is possibly the most minimalist and least informative change-of-scene narration box ever deployed in comics, even beating out “In another room.”

Archie, 10/11/08

Is anyone else hypnotized and unsettled by Jughead’s shirt, which offers no explanation as to who or what it’s promoting with its enormous letter “S”? Is it meant to frustrate and ultimately educate the bourgeoisie, who naively expect written text to transmit information of some kind? That explanation would seem to fit in with Jughead’s unexplained transformation from a shiftless high school student to an avant-garde photographer with a major gallery show.

Beetle Bailey, 10/11/08

OK, we get it, Walker-Browne Amalgamated Humor Enterprises LLC! There’s nothing in this world you love more than golf. If you had to choose between golf and your family and friends, you’d choose golf without hesitation, since if you show up at the course by yourself they’ll assign you to a foursome, so you technically don’t need them. In fact, as today’s strip shows, you love it so much that you’d rather announce that fact than, say, coming up with one of the seven weekly jokes that basically make up your job.

Post Content

Mark Trail, 10/10/08

OK, I think we all know where this is going — Sue will be so touched by Mark rescuing her from an alligator and the simple kindness of these forest folk that she will inexplicably allow her valuable swampland to remain a haven for dangerous reptiles, rather than develop it into a strip mall anchored by a Barnes and Noble and a P.F. Chang’s, as God intended. This will set up a conflict with her money-minded ex-boyfriend, whom Mark may have to punch, blah blah blah.

The possible wildcard is Sneaky. Everyone insists on treating him as some kind of lovable household pet when he’s clearly a filthy, thieving wild animal who you shouldn’t turn your back for a second. Ha ha, he’s stealing my wallet! Ha ha, he’s clawing at my daughter’s face! Look into those beady little eyes in panel three and just try to tell me that there’s anything going through his head right now other than “BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE BITE”.

Family Circus, 10/10/08

Good lord, is anything safe from Angry Billy’s flailing, aimless rage? Now he’s incensed at the very concept of the linear progression of time itself. “Seven sucks! I hate seven! I want to be six forever! SIX! SIX! Screw you, seven!” Personally, I’d be pretty nervous being in such close proximity to this tightly wound little rage-stump, but Grandma looks remarkably serene. Maybe she’s somehow got inside information on the exact time and place of the inevitable killing spree.

Spider-Man, 10/10/08

Peter Parker spent the early part of this week bitching about the idea of a museum show of clocks, but now he’s decided that it might be a good place to intercept the fake Spider-Man because, you know, trying to figure out something better would be hard. He’s also not traveling around in costume because of the dastardly deeds of the aforementioned fake Spider-Man, so he’s apparently chosen just to climb up the side of this wall, in broad daylight, without hiding his identity in any way because who cares. This strip should change its name from The Amazing Spider-Man to Spider-Man: Whatever.

Pluggers, 10/10/08

Everyone knows that plugger coffee comes in a $12 can that lasts for months, and is made with a scoop of crystals and some boiling water. Dog-man plugger here would be no more likely to be leaving the store with a bag of coffee beans than he would with arugula or a copy of the Economist.

By the way, I’ve seen Reed Hoover’s name in Pluggers often enough that I Googled him to find out how he became such a plugger-savant, only to find this two-year-old article from the Dallas Morning News. I urge you to read it all the way to the very end! You will not regret it.