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I round out a day of multiposting blogging with the long-awaited comment of the week! This time with crucial formatting!

“I see that Judge Parker has made the artistic decision to tell us the thrilling tale of Steve’s war injury with people sitting in coffee shops and offices. If only there was more effective way to picture the event that no doubt earned Steve a Purple Heart. That immediacy could really draw the reader in.” –Master Mahan

And the runners-up (ever-hilarious):

“Dr. Drew may be a skilled young doctor and dashing playboy, but his internal monologues are strictly third-rate Mills & Boon. I can picture him standing over a patient in the operating room and thinking, ‘He has a broken heart … JUST LIKE ME!’, complete with his trademarked arm flaps. Next stop: the Santa Royale Institute for the Criminally Melodramatic.” –Mooncattie

“An ‘official’ prison break. Thank goodness. Those guys could’ve been sanctioned by the APBA.” –Weaselboy

“The Marmaduke family lives in a house with a door and a corner. And nothing else.” –Cody

“Of course Barfy is dead. You see that smile? That’s the unmistakable bliss of escaping those violent religious cretins for good. No living thing in the Keane Compound smiles like that unless it’s part of the regime.” –avatarjk137

“Sciatica jokes are crap. Now, gout humor, that’s where the action is.” –Grover Cleveland

“The sheer number of times Margo has been mentioned the past two weeks, juxtaposed with her comparatively small amount of face time and her increasingly dictatorial style, leads me to believe that our Ms. Magee is finally ascending to the level of Big Brother-esque tyrannical ubiquity to which she’s been aspiring for so long. One can only hope the strip continues to parallel 1984 in other ways and Tommie’s face is eaten off by rats.” –Tats

“Mary Worth: I got to give the old bag her props. She knows that ‘closure’ is a word that means ‘I’m going to rub your face in it until you whimper.’ Vera got her revenge. Drew is totally closured.” –Gabacho

“A date with Mary and Jeff: Sit. Stare at nothing in particular. Sit some more. Have some coffee. Fart on couch. Stare some more. Keep sitting. Hope someone in distress comes through the door so Madame Worth can do what she does best and break the tedium.” –Calico

“For a minute, I actually felt bad for Marvin, having to sit there between two old men griping about how the world isn’t the way it was when they were young, too small and weak to even walk away. But then I remembered that this is Marvin, and Marvin, and he always deserves it.” –Mac

“Have you ever thought about what it would look like if you ate straight out of the mixed Jelly Belly bin at the candy store until satisfaction passed through satiation and gave way to oversaturation and ultimately, inevitably, disrumination? You haven’t? It would look like that fucking shirt.” –One-eyed Wolfdog

“Drew, skiing in St. Moritz or sailing in the Caribbean sound fun. Incredibly fun! Which is why I couldn’t possibly let you do either one of them. Human enjoyment is anathema to me!” –BigTed

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Hi and Lois and Shoe, 2/18/08

On the day on which we officially celebrate the birth of George Washington, and our many car dealers celebrate other, lesser, presidents, two comics have decided to honor America’s 43 chief executives by highlighting what they do best: running up huge deficits that scar our children emotionally. (Yes, I know, they have help from Congress on this, but Congress doesn’t have a holiday — a fairly puzzling development, when you think about the fact that Congress is in charge of voting holidays into existence.) Ditto Flagston has been rendered sleepless with terror in the face of the huge spending spree going on that places him and the rest of his cohort billions of dollars into debt before they even reach voting age; meanwhile, young Skyler Fishhawk is merely prematurely cynical when confronted with the abdication of governmental responsibility. Which outcome is more troubling?

Ziggy, 2/18/08

From day to day, Ziggy panels end up at various and seemingly random locations on a sliding scale of realism. On some days, we’re confronted with scenarios that might almost occur in real life, as Ziggy bickers with surly diner chefs or admonishes his pets; others seem more symbolic and dream-like, with our pantsless eponymous hero demanding self-aware automatons or confronting philosophical vending machines. Today’s installment is particularly trippy: are we to understand that the aphorism hanging over our bald, dwarfish protagonist is spray-painted on the blank expanse of wall that he’s standing in front of? Or is it something spoken aloud, but not contained in a word balloon because it’s the booming voice of our omnipresent creator? The stark shadow trailing behind Ziggy’s feet hints at the latter, as it would seem to indicate that he’s facing into some sort of blinding divine radiance. It’s kind of sad, but at the same time kind of unsurprising, that Ziggy’s God would speak in bland cliches.

Non Sequitur, 2/18/08

Non Sequitur no doubt prides itself on being the crankiest and most cynical strip around by an order of magnitude, so it’s kind of sad that today’s entry could be reworked without too much effort into a Pluggers installment.

Marvin, 2/18/08

Marvin takes a moment away from its cavalcade of hilarious ass jokes to remind you that having a child will destroy your sex life. Ha ha, so hilarious! I like that dad is holding a mug labelled “DAD”, as if to emphasize that he’s made the transition from vibrant, sexual being to exhausted, zombie-like baby minder. I’d say the heavy-lidded look of suicidal depression on the characters’ faces is another nice touch, but that’s pretty much what everyone in Marvin looks like all the time.

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Family Circus, 2/17/08

Everything those fussbudgets who testified before Congress in the 1950s about the evils of the comics industry and how the comics were rotting the tiny brains of America’s youth said was true, because I used to be a pretty smart guy who got a graduate degree in a useless, esoteric subject and now after three and a half years of doing this blog I apparently can’t even figure out the freaking Family Circus. Why did Billy’s hideous multihued plaid shirt earn the unwelcome attention of his teachers? Since they surely haven’t bothered to learn the names of their interchangeable moppet charges, you’d think they’d probably call on kids by saying “Hey, you in the blue” or the like, and would rather pass the eldest Keane kid over rather than hazard a guess at what to call that monstrosity of a garment. It’s possible that someone on the faculty is epileptic, and when Billy says he was “called on” he merely means that he was ordered to cover up lest he induce a seizure.

Mary Worth, 2/17/08

“If you want to resolve this permanently, Drew, why don’t you just go straight to hell? You’ll wish you did, after hearing my advice!”