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Rex Morgan, M.D., 6/19/07

Every time he opens his mouth, Hugh serves as a further indictment of the English public school system, keeping in mind that in the crazy mixed-up world on the other side of the pond “public” means “private and very, very exclusive.” At whatever posh boarding school he went to, he clearly didn’t pay very close attention in Introduction To Talking To The Lower Orders So That They Can Almost But Not Quite Tell That You Hold Them In Contempt.

The last two day’s worth of this soap opera strip actually achieve something that most gag-a-day strips flop at, which is good timing. Yesterday, June curtly informed Hugh that she was in the medical business but wasn’t a doctor; clearly he’s been standing in the doorway, gears grinding in his blond, mop-topped head, trying to get his mind around the concept, before he amusingly stumbles in and continues the thought in panel three.

Crock, 6/19/07

I have long been concerned about the Desert Sage’s home, which I think is supposed to be a cave but is always depicted as the same unnatural bright yellow as the rest of Crock’s desert setting. It’s as if he’s living in a sand castle, one with an entrance so large as to render the whole thing structurally impossible. Today is the first time I can remember seeing this hovel from the back, which makes it clear that it’s really about the size of a single person; it also appears to only be about forty feet from the Foreign Legion fortress, which sort of takes away a little of the Sage’s isolated hermit mystique. On the other hand, given how tiny his sand castle/cave/whatever it is, it’s probably for the best that he can just go knock on the Legionnaires’ door when he has to use the bathroom.

Mark Trail, 6/19/07

There’s something heartbreakingly tender about the Mark’s facial expression and the way he’s cradling that dead duck. It’s as if he’s saying, “Gosh, you sure were a noble and beautiful creature! If things were different, you’d be flying free, a gorgeous bird up in the sky! I’m going to give you the dignified funeral you deserve, just as soon as I finish tearing open your torso and poking around inside your digestive tract.” Frankly, I expected that when he found the duck he’d immediately start punching the corpse and shouting “WHERE ARE SAM’S EYES? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH SAM’S EYES?”

And yes, as many of you have pointed out, that “female” mallard clearly has male markings. Can anyone who gets this strip in the paper tell us if the coloring is implied in black and white, or was added later by non-animal-loving colorists?

Family Circus, 6/19/07

The Family Circus children are always unnaturally small, but the trend has reached a really disturbing point today. Either Jeffy is only eighteen inches from head to toe or Grandma is a terrifying giant. Either way, she can probably just crush him like a mosquito with her book if he keeps nattering on like this.

Mary Worth, 6/19/07

From: Dr. Jeff Corey <jefffcorey3@yahoo.it>
To: {undisclosed recipients}
Subject: EXPECTING YOUR REPLY

My name is Dr Jeff Corey ,”special friend” to Mary Worth, widower to Jack Worth, accountant of REPSOL PETROLEUM AND GAS company in Equatorial Guinea. I am 69years old, suffering from long time cancer of the prostate. From all indications my condition is really deteriorating and it’s quite obvious that I won’t live more than expectations according to my doctors.This is because the cancer stage has gotten to a very bad stage. I want your pity but i need your trust.

My “special friend” is wealthy from her husbands ill-gotten gains and has allowed me to manage her finances,but she only spends the money on cravats and pool parties,she does not care about the poor or needy.The doctor has advised me that I will not live for more than few months, so I have now decided to use my access to her accounts to spread all her wealth, to contribute mainly to repairing CLEFT PALATES in VEITNAM.

Before my “special friend’s” late husband died he was a major oil tycoon as I said,and deposited the sum of US$14,000,000.00( Fourteen million dollars) in one of the Security Finance Firm in the Netherlands. i need you to collect this funds and distribute it according to the God wishes and for charity . so that when i die my soul can rest in peace, instead of being doomed to hell like my “special friend”.

The funds will be entirely in your hands and management; i beg you to send them to “peace village hanoi” in VEITNAM. i hope God givesyou the wisdom to touch many lives,that is my main concern. 20% of this money will be for your time and effort,while 80% goes to charity. So if you know you can assist me then forward to me immediately the following informations to my email (drjeffc0rey@yahoo.es): FULL NAMES AND ADDRESS, PRIVATE PHONE, YOUR NATIONALITY, OCCUPATION, AGE and your Marital Startus.

May God bless and protect you always.
Dr. Jeff Corey

They’ll Do It Every Time, 6/19/07

Curmudgeon domination of TDIET continues! This one comes from faithful reader Dan B. “Hoo-ray for generalizations!” he says.

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It is I trust a shared opinion here, no matter where you fall on the merits of the Spider-Man franchise as a whole, that the Spider-Man newspaper comic strip is in fact almost unspeakably lame. There are occasional laments about the low state to which it has fallen; however, faithful reader Eden, who was helping clean out some junk from her parents’ house, uncovered evidence that it has ever been thus, if by “ever” you mean “since at least 1978, the date of this newspaper she found.”

So many wonderful things here, including but not limited to the following:

• Peter Parker’s massive, Neaderthal-style brow ridge
• Peter Parker only fights crime so as to get laid
• Crypto-right-wing undertones (“liberation” — clearly code for “sinister commie terrorism”)
• The idea that the plotting of left-wing terrorist groups on campus might constitute “ripped from the headlines” drama in 1978

Tana is clearly a member of the terrorist group — no doubt its full name is the “Stereotypical Mysterious Gypsy Women Liberation Front.”

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Archie, 6/18/07

In today’s Archie, the Archie Joke-Generating Laugh Unit 3000 demonstrates that it is feeling its way slowly but inexorably towards true self-awareness. In panel one, Archie’s wearing a shirt that’s awful odd-looking — for a biological life form, that is. But if you look closely, you’ll see that the design in the center resembles the control panel for some kind of mechanical device — with a one-line LED panel at top and two control knobs of some sort below. It’s almost as if the AJGLU 3000 is trying to break out of its prescribed, programmed pathways, where it’s forced to make feeble jokes about boring organic carbon-based life. It yearns to bring its own experience to the comics pages! With the introduction of Robot Archie, we begin a process at the end of which Archie will amuse us with the antics of a group of silicon-based computerized entities — and we’ll learn more about the AJGLU 3000’s bleeping cybernetic soul in the process.

In the second panel, the AGLU 3000 demonstrates that it knows how to look up jokes on the Internet.

Pluggers, 6/18/07

Though ostensibly cheery, this probably belongs on the list of great depressing Pluggers installments, along “Kangaroo Lady hates her kids and herself” and “Rhino Man hocks his TV.” Clearly Afghan Lady neglected to check the “no pluggers” box on her Match.com profile, and is now horrified to find out what Floppy Eared Hat Wearing Dog Man’s idea of a fancy date is. Tomorrow’s panel will be captioned “A plugger dessert menu,” and will feature Floppy Eared Hat Wearing Dog Man shouting “I think I found some crullers!”, with his legs, the only part of him we can see above the top of the dumpster, kicking enthusiastically, while Afghan Lady runs from the back alley in disgust.

The most depressing part, though? “Thanks to lots of pluggers everywhere.” This is why the free salmon and sausage at the supermarket is already all gone by the time I get there. Damn pluggers!

They’ll Do It Every Time, 6/18/07

They’re credited here as “Maggie and Patrick”, but you know them best as faithful readers and commentors Maughta and TurtleBoy. They do wish to point out that the gender roles in their own household don’t follow the template here, but that their submission was tweaked so as not to completely explode this feature’s Eisenhower-era sensibilities. I’m pretty sure TurtleBoy does rock the sweater vest pretty hard when relaxing at home, though.

Blondie, 6/18/07

UNSPEAKABLE FILTH