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Family Circus, 8/18/07

There’s something I find really unsettling about the huge, featureless expanse that is the front of “Elegant House”. There are no windows, just hundreds of square feet of unbroken whiteness, with a tiny door guarded by someone in uniform. Either its some kind of demon-haunted hellmouth, where hungry patrons are lured into a horrifying netherworld, or it’s a front for a secret CIA torture facility. Either way, I really hope the Keanes stop by for dinner, obviously.

Herb and Jamaal, 8/18/07

“And by ‘old adage’, I clearly mean ‘rambling bit of blather I made up to stretch over three panels worth of thought balloons.'”

Today’s strip pretty much solves the debate over Rev. Croom’s denominational affiliation. Obviously he’s part of the Anglican Communion, which requires its clerics to use Commonwealth English grammatical constructions such as “in hospital,” “at university,” and “in ministry.”

They’ll Do It Every Time, 8/18/07

Congrats to faithful Comics Curmudgeon reader Dean Booth, who got a sweater vest and an “urge” in his very own TDIET! Perhaps Dean can explain just what the motion line or planetary ring or whatever it is wrapping from around his shoulder all the way to the front Annoyia’s chest is supposed to represent. I’m fairly disturbed by the fact that little junior is grinning as the Dean stand-in clenches his fist and steam begins to rise from beneath his collar. Apparently there’s nothing he enjoys watching more than a little domestic dispute! Homeside fun and games, indeed.

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Crankshaft, 8/17/07

UH OH WATCH OUT YOU POLITICAL CRUMBUMS! IT’S BEEN A MERE TWENTY MONTHS SINCE YOUR SINISTER MEDICARE PART D WENT INTO EFFECT, AND NOW YOU’VE GOT THE ’SHAFT TO ANSWER TO! At long last, Crankshaft’s smoldering anger will be harnessed to effect progressive political change. I can see it now: just as Lisa stands up to begin her testimony about how cancer is bad, suddenly the ’Shaft bursts into the committee chamber, planting an elbow into her tumor-ridden torso, sending her tumbling to the floor. “GOD DAMN IT ALL,” Crankshaft bellows. “I’M OLD, I’M PISSED, I’M WEARING A HAT, AND I DON’T WANT TO PAY FOR MY MEDS!” Everyone stands up and applauds, Medicare is fixed, Lisa expires unnoticed under the table, and cancer remains legal.

Mary Worth, 8/17/07

All week I’ve been ignoring Santa Royale’s most eligible young medico as he romances Bachelorette #2 over lumpy grey mush and human blood at some hideously decorated restaurant, but that was before today when oh Jesus God did Vera seriously just compare Drew to her brother?? Drew, I’ll tell you how this story ought to end: with your running for the door right now. Don’t bother picking up the check, as Vera’s lonely at the top of her chosen career path and can surely afford it. Just get out now.

Spider-Man, 8/17/07

“W-we’re vibrating!! And it actually feels pretty great! Boy, this is working a lot of stress out of my deep tissues. Thanks, the Shocker!”

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Gasoline Alley, 8/16/07

Those of you who only follow Gasoline Alley through this blog have probably been wondering, “Gee, what’s going on with Slim’s plan to keep his neighborhood racially pure by dropping thousands of pounds of metal onto a playground? I’m sure he’s totally stepped back from the brink by this point!” Well, I’m sad to report that not so much. In today’s strip, the deranged Vietnam Vet charged with actually perpetrating this vile crime muses grimly on the mercenary’s creed: once that check clears, you have a job to do, and it doesn’t matter how many flattened homes and crushed bodies you leave in your wake.

Gil Thorp, 8/16/07

Today’s Gil Thorp is nothing less than a divine symphony of severed limbs. You cannot convince me that any of the arms on display here are actually attached to the Thorpian quasihumans near whose heads they’re hovering — the scale and the angles are all wrong. Particularly baffling is the behemoth paw in panel one. Is Fu “Rap Sheet” Manchu supposed to be holding a TV remote? It seems unlikely: not only is the hand bigger than his head, but he’s only about eight inches away from the television set.

I love that, having been insulted, Coach Kaz calls his girlfriend to “check in” emotionally, only to be further taunted for his dimwittery. FEEL THE BURN, COACH! She’s not dating you for your mind; she only loves your hairy, hairy arms, and the furious fists at the end of them.

Marmaduke, 8/16/07

Like a lot of Marmadukes, this one doesn’t make any damn sense. It could be sort of fixed, though, if the caption were changed to “Your lap’s so nice, he thinks he’s died and gone to heaven!” Get it? Because with Marmaduke’s drooping extremities and slack features, it appears that this hapless woman has the enormous corpse of a Great Dane sprawled across her thighs!

Of course, we all know that, thanks to Marmaduke’s many sins, he won’t actually go to heaven when he dies.

Ziggy, 8/16/07

Looks like somebody doesn’t really understand what “computer dating” is all about. Hey, Tom II, get with the program! You can have your very own computer in your very own home these days! I don’t want to say this cartoon is entirely inaccurate, though: it is true that the only women who would deign to date Ziggy are in prison.