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Herb and Jamaal, 11/17/08

Far be it for me to tell hard-working cartoonists how to do their jobs … oh, wait, actually, it turns out that that’s exactly what my schtick is. Anyway, clearly ketchup is the wrong vaguely edible item to be used as the lynchpin of this joke. I think virtually all American bachelors have ketchup in their refrigerators. Quite a few probably have only ketchup in their refrigerators. Back when I was a bachelor, I had generally had in my refrigerator mayonnaise, milk, butter, barbecue sauce, leftover Chinese food, and a bottle of ketchup — even though I never really put ketchup on anything, I just sort of felt like it was something I had to have. It’s the Default American Condiment.

Anyway, this comic would have worked better if Herb had asked for, say, that mysterious gooey pink sauce you get in packets with Chinese take-out. I was going to try to figure out the name for that substance, but then I realized that “that mysterious gooey pink sauce you get in packets with Chinese take-out” also worked better in the Herb and Jamaal oeuvre. Of course, it would be kind of weird for Herb to want to put that stuff on his hamburger, but it’s also kind of weird that he’s eating a hamburger that’s roughly eighteen inches across, so who am I to say what’s normal in this scenario.

Mary Worth, 11/17/08

As a fan of laughably concretized metaphors, I’m glad to see that Lynn is shredding things, just like her father shreds her soul. I’ve had cats that dealt with life’s stresses in much the same way. Unfortunately, what with the strip’s typically inscrutable art, I can’t tell if she’s shredded the designer scarf daddy bought her for Christmas in July or just some random topo maps she keeps around for emo acting-out purposes. Anyway, I hope that she’s worked all this angst out of her system so that she can take off her casual purple lounging track suit and put on that kicky stripey blue t-shirt and face the world with a smile!

Gasoline Alley, 11/17/08

I can’t tell you why exactly, but after multiple Gasoline Alley storylines that I’ve more or less ignored completely, I’m suddenly riveted by the tale of Slim and Clovia’s financial woes. But Slim contemplating injuring himself terribly for money may have something to do with it.

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Mary Worth, 11/16/08

Could this be Mary’s most complex and multilayered meddle yet? As our protagonist openly disparages Frank’s parenting/coaching style and instills thoughts of independence in Lynn’s head, she’s clearly set events in motion that can only end in tears, and murder (not necessarily in that order).

I really and sincerely hope that, as the dialog balloon in panel one seems to indicate, Mary actually said “Knock! Knock!” aloud rather than physically rapping her knuckles on Lynn’s door. Also, this strip indicates the extent to which Lynn’s will has been broken; any person with a healthy sense of self would react to the vision in panel two with either wild gunfire or terrified flight into the woods.

Beetle Bailey, 11/16/08

Even with my standards for Beetle Bailey being as low as they are, I have to say that I find Sarge’s cavalcade of vaguely ethnic disguises confusing and unsettling. The fake Frenchman is at least speaking real French, and it does seem likely that a genuine cowboy would know at least a smattering of Spanish, but that clown is creeping me out. Why is he spouting Fred Flinstone’s beloved and almost certainly trademarked catchphrase? And why does he say “thank you” in what appears to be pidgin Italian? Does the author think that Italians are all cartoon-obsessed clowns? Because that would be one of the most obscure ethnic stereotypes trotted out in living memory.

Slylock Fox, 11/16/08

The answer to today’s puzzle is far too small for me to read — I’m assuming it involves boring old science — but I’m frankly less concerned about what Slylock and Max will drink than with what they’ll eat. The fish skeleton on the shore indicates what their first island-side dinner consisted of; the way the tentacles of the no doubt anthropomorphic octopus in the stewpot appear to still be wriggling as the castaways’ makeshift fire boils it alive is profoundly unsettling. That sea turtle will be the next into the pot, followed no doubt by Max himself.

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Mark Trail, 11/15/08

As a special gift to all of us, because we’ve been so good, Mark Trail is extending the Magical Moment of Fisticuffs for us for another day’s worth of punchy bliss. In today’s panel one, we seem to be seeing the same frozen-in-amber post-punch moment depicted in yesterday’s panel three, but from a different angle; however, Mark’s bellowed dialog has gone from passably bad-ass (“DOES THIS CONVINCE YOU?”) to stilted run-through-the-automated-translator-from-who-knows-what (“THIS LITTLE CONTEST OF YOURS IS UNLAWFUL”). The question is: did Mark have time to shout both of these things at Mr. Rabbit (or whatever his name is) as he tumbled slowly back into the murky swamp water? Or did Rabbit pop back up like a Weeble-Wobble sometime between yesterday and today, giving Mark a chance to lay down another punch and get in another awkward little bon mot?

The rest is no less delightful for being par for the course: Mark admonishes the gathered off-camera yokels, who sit by and do nothing, then breaks Sneaky’s chains with his bare hands and carries him off to safety. For the sake of Mark’s ego, I hope that the adorable raccoon waits until they’re out his backwoods tormentors’ sight before launching his entirely unprovoked attack on Mark’s eyes.

(Psst! This is a perfect time for you to pick up some Fist O’ Justice stuff from the Comics Curmudgeon store!)

Herb and Jamaal, 11/15/08

You know, every once in a while I say to myself, “Oh, the Herb-and-Jamaal-is-hilariously-nonspecific bit is getting old,” but then the strip goes and gets even more hilariously nonspecific. In today’s panel one, Jamaal ensures that those reading this strip in an anthology published in the middle of the 21st century will be able to relate the joke to their own experiences during the Great Disco Revival of the 2030s.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 11/15/08

Considering that this backwoods medico is asking our hero if he’s bothered by the sight of blood and advancing on him with what appears to be a scalpel, Snuffy Smith looks awfully chipper. My first guess was that the doctor assumes (correctly) that Snuffy would not be missed if he were to be sliced up and his organs harvested, but then I realized that nobody would want his moonshine-drenched kidneys or hog-fat-choked heart.

Apartment 3-G, 11/15/08

After a tragic romance with a brooding, no-talent, junkie urbanite, it’s not surprising that Lu Ann wants to hop into the arms of a fresh-faced Dakotan. Soon, though, she’ll learn that rural folk have drug problems too, with Cody addicted to trailer-made meth — or, as the locals call it, “prairie dope.”

For Better Or For Worse, 11/15/08

Yes, who said newspapers would become obsolete? Certainly nobody in the late ’70s, when this strip ostensibly takes place.