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Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/16/08

I am sadly far removed from the good, honest, manly work that goes on aboard boats, so the only association I have with the phrase “cabin boy” is “teenage sexual plaything for lonely sailors.” Presumably there’s something nautical that a cabin boy would be making himself useful for, but if thirtysomething landlubber jerkface Rex Morgan could actually do something productive on board other than show off his manly chest so that Lenore and/or her crew can get their jollies, I’d love to hear it.

For Better Or For Worse, 8/16/08

Oh, also, Grandpa Jim is dying or something. I’m going to pass over the tiresome melodrama here for the moment (if he really didn’t want to spoil her day, then why did he go and have a heart attack in the middle of it?); I mostly want to comment on Uncle Phil’s creepy, glowing eyes in the next-to-last panel. Though it’s not entirely clear what they’re supposed to denote, this is a very striking effect, so much so that I immediately remembered the last time I saw it in this strip: the day that Liz and Anthony half-assedly got engaged. One can only assume that it denotes the imminent death of something wonderful and precious (e.g., Liz’s grandfather, Liz’s carefree existence as a human being who thinks and feels).

Marvin, 8/16/08

Here’s a question that has puzzled generations of professional humorists. Imagine that you have a terrible, terrible joke. This joke has nothing to do with the interests or concerns of babies. If that joke were stretched out over three panels, and thought-ballooned by three near-identical drawings of a heavy-lidded, sullen, unlikeable infant, would it become funny, or at least less unfunny? Thanks to the bravery of this Marvin, we now know that the answer is a resounding “no”!

Dick Tracy, 8/16/08

Another philosophical conundrum: Is depicting a mangled human being, his flesh torn to ribbons by his own savage dogs, somehow acceptable for the comics pages if an onlooker makes some half-assed wordplay comparing the poor soul to a pork chop or t-bone steak of the sort that you’d see for sale in your local supermarket? Based on the absence of outraged letters demanding the removal of Dick Tracy from all newspapers everywhere, the answer is apparently “yes”!

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Blondie, 8/15/08

Having apparently decided that his nonstop regimen of bingeing and (I assume, based on his rail-thin physique) purging isn’t punishment enough for his poor body, Dagwood has now taken to torturing his innocent bladder.

Crankshaft, 8/15/08

Truth in labeling laws ought to require that every single installment of Crankshaft and Funky Winkerbean contain the phrase “an undercurrent of melancholy that I can’t quite seem to put into words.”

Marmaduke, 8/15/08

Marmaduke is overplaying his hand here: his owner has made the baffling decision to try to balance a good-sized sandwich on a plate, a bowl of potato chips, and, um, a plate of some sort of cube-things on his lap with no tray or other support of any kind, so at least half of that food is going to be on the floor in short order.

Momma, 8/15/08

Ha ha! Momma’s doctor is a monstrous cannibalistic fiend who feasts on the organs of the elderly.

In unrelated news, for everyone who has been able to endure the Foob Wedding Of The Century by consoling themselves that once the vows have been uttered, it will all be over: Ha ha ha ha ha.

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Family Circus, 8/14/08

If you asked me what my favorite Family Circus character is, I’d say, “Aarrgh, what are you talking about? I hate all of those hideous melonheads with a burning white-hot passion!” But if you held a gun to my head and said, “Look, pick a favorite Family Circus character or I’ll blow your brains out”, I’d have to go with Angry Billy, and today’s strip is a good demonstration of why. I love his petulant, contemptuous facial expression. And he’s right to be bitter: he alone among the Keane Kids is old enough to realize that this is just more education disguised as “fun,” and yet he’s still at least four years too young to go boozing and whoring with dad after Mommy falls asleep.

Mary Worth, 8/14/08

Bad: Toby referring to this boring, mass-produced DVD that she purchased on the Internet as “the fruits of my search.”

Worse: The strip letterers putting “the fruits of my search” in bold italics, so there’s no human way not to fixate on it and realize how awkward and horrible it is. “The fruits of my search!” Aarrrrgh.

Pluggers, 8/14/08

If this is a plugger lifeguard, you’re probably wondering, who exactly saves you from drowning on a plugger beach? What, do you expect some taxpayer-subsidized elitist swimmer to haul you out of the water just because you’re about to sink into the ocean and die? Why don’t they just drive out there in a limo and serve you champagne while you’re at it?

Wizard of Id, 8/14/08

I like how this strip starts off being about soul-scraping loneliness, and yet only two panels later finishes up with a terrible, corny pun about lily pads.