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Family Circus, 11/6/06

I try not to get into personal analysis of comics writers’ lives here, but it’s just so damn much fun with the Family Circus. Since thinly veiled Jeff has taken over writing duties for the thinly veiled Keane family, I’m always on the lookout for new dips in little Jeffy’s emotional roller coaster ride. Today, I have to ask: sure, it’s condescending to be referred to as “little man,” but is the look of pure unfiltered rage and disgust in panel two really called for? The microwaved whatever is made to look almost Calvin-level icky as if to try to get us on his side, but I’m thinking that anyone over the age of eight is going to identify much more strongly with Daddy, who is unflappable in the face of his little squaller’s disdain, possibly because he’s drunk.

Speaking of dad’s raging alcohol problem, since she hasn’t been tempted by Hillary Clinton to engage in some kind of anti-Christian outside-the-home economic activity, one wonders where exactly the family matriarch is at the moment, when she clearly should be whipping up some lunch from scratch for our picky redhead. Perhaps she’s finally up and left all together due to the boozin’, and this is day five of the hellish aftermath. “Hey, kid, at least your lunch is warm, OK? I’ve eaten Cheez-Its for dinner three nights in a row!”

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Funky Winkerbean and For Better Or For Worse, 11/4/06

So which do you prefer:

• Teen drama that makes you want to vomit? Or…
• Teen drama that actually involves vomiting?

Discuss.

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B.C. and Wizard of Id, 11/3/06

Here’s a true comics fact that I find endlessly fascinating: Johnny Hart, the deranged mastermind behind B.C., is also the writer (but not the artist) for the Wizard of Id. This is interesting because B.C. is, as frequently noted here by me and others, totally deranged these days, whereas the Wizard of Id is, if not breaking any new comedic ground, actually still kind of funny. Today’s strips, both on the topic of sweet, delicious, tempting, demonic booze, illustrate the point nicely. B.C. is pretty typical of the strip’s current loopy state: the weird verbiage, convoluted but not particularly funny, the setup that’s ultimately just one character telling a joke to another, and the punchline that’s dependent on a series of odd assumptions and that seems like it might, in a parallel universe, be funny, but in this one is not. Now, a lot of you cruel bastards have taken this to mean that Hart has just lost it. But take a look at this Wizard of Id, which is itself typical of the strip’s style: blunt, dry, to the point, and actually driven by some cursory knowledge of the strip’s characters. In other words, ol’ Johnny is fully capable of working within the constraints of what makes a comic strip funny and normal; but in B.C. he’s made a conscious decision to follow his own meandering muse. Which in some ways is all the more alarming.

Apartment 3-G, 11/3/06

Meanwhile, the Story of Lu Ann’s Magical Mysterious Attic has apparently been outsourced to a Brontë sister. I’ve been all in favor the new interweaving storylines in Apartment 3-G, but we need more of Tommie teasing married men with her awkward sexuality and Margo threatening people with bodily harm and less of Lu Ann’s maybe-supernatural loft space. Yesterday we were teased into believing that this pile of bedding was someone asleep on the bed; presumably tomorrow we’ll learn that there isn’t actually anybody in the next room, but that someone has accidentally left the radio on in there and it happens to be playing Li’l Jon’s latest hit, “Hello, Anyone There? (Feat. Ying Yang Twins).”

If Alan and Eric Mills and, hell, Margo are all conspiring to drive Lu Ann insane à la Gaslight, though, all will be forgiven and then some.

Dick Tracy, 11/3/06

If you haven’t been following Dick Tracy (and really, who could blame you if you haven’t?), Dick has acquired an experimental device that can read minds. This turns out to be much, much less interesting than it sounds, as so far he’s only used it to annoy his officemates. I just wanted to point out that one of his coworkers is apparently Lara Flynn Boyle, seriously slumming in some kind of Nehru-collared shirt.

Marvin, 11/3/06

Lord alive, I hope the dog eats that baby.