Post Content

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/9/05

I love the look on Buck’s face in panel three. It says, “Hmph! This gap-toothed proletarian and I may be similarly unkempt, but my wise and devilishly handsome eyes gaze upon Mrs. Morgan with only the utmost respect for her as a strong, educated, skilled career woman! Whereas this boorish oaf cares only for her sexy ’80s hairdo and prodigious bustline! He probably couldn’t even remember his name if it weren’t stitched onto his chapeau, let alone intelligently discuss contemporary scholarship about Mayan ruler cults!” He may also be amusing himself by thinking up his own rhymes, possibly involving the word “yank,” as a riposte to our fence-man’s little couplet.

Don’t be too smug, though, Buck: Frank probably has health insurance. But maybe not dental insurance, from the looks of things.

What is it about the common people and their ability to get under the skin of middle-class career women? My parents had a roofer who worked on their house for a while who always called my stepmother “mother,” something she found both creepy and annoying (whereas my father and I found it both creepy and amusing.)

Update: Due to overwhelming demand, I’ve added a new product to the Comics Curmudgeon store. You too can look like one of the “common people” (as I so insensitively put it) — but at non-common-people prices!

Post Content

The Lockhorns, 3/8/05

Today’s Lockhorns isn’t particularly cruel, but is notable: I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen Loretta in a good mood as a result of something Leroy’s done. I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt and guess that she’s actually pleased that he’s going to get into shape, not because he’s just embarrassed himself in front of the himbo behind the counter. Leroy, of course, has no illusions about his chances of becoming buff; his own grim visage indicates not only his foreknowledge of his own personal failure, but also that he realizes that Loretta’s disappointment will be all the bitterer because her hopes were once ever-so-briefly lifted. Our muscled he-clerk, meanwhile, seems gripped by the soul-sucking listlessness that affects nearly everyone who has the misfortune to wander into the same frame as the Lockhorns. Presumably the two of them are so fundamentally unhappy that their ennui radiates off of them in infectious waves.

Post Content

Longtime readers know that I am very strict about my commenting-on-one-comic-from-each-day policy. Except, you know, when I’m not. But Sunday’s pickings were pretty slim (except for the appalling Family Circus that was well covered in the previous post’s comments section), and there were two comics on Monday that screamed out for attention, so here they are.

Curtis, 3/7/05

In its continuing efforts to offer a positive image for today’s black teens, Curtis has taken some interesting steps. First it portrayed its tweenage hero as a leering, bug-eyed misogynist (I still can’t get the phrase “nothing more to him than a sexual playtoy” out of my head). Today, we see that he’s so hypersexualized that even his relationship with his bed is layered with lust. Now I have as hard a time getting out of a warm bed as the next guy, but the blandishments (which we can only hope are happening inside Curtis’ cap-adorned noggin) used here are way too smooth-jazz-style flirty for my taste. For reasons I can’t quite put my finger on, I find the term “hunny-pot” particularly vile.

The ass-scratching in panel two is a nice touch as well.

So that’s what’s going on in Harlem. Meanwhile, down in Midtown:

Apartment 3-G, 3/7/05

Why don’t you relax and enjoy your “Cereal”-brand cereal, Margo? Every night that Mim spends in some sex-crazed 19-year-old’s filthy Bed-Stuy walk-up is a night that she doesn’t sleep on your couch, which as of two weeks ago was your primary concern in life. For her part, Tommie here shows us that, thanks to her roommates’ longstanding policy of ignoring her, she’s quite good at holding conversations with herself. She’s her own best friend!