Post Content

Mark Trail, 2/11/25

Oh, sorry I didn’t update you on the “Mark helps return a displaced manatee to the sea” storyline, or even [checks archives] tell you about it in the first place, but today’s strip pretty much recaps the high points so I don’t have to, in a real reversal of this blog’s original mission statement. The whole thing about the guys in bear costumes is actually a story that was ripped from the real-life headlines, except the real-life guys were actually just doing some light insurance fraud rather than trying to prevent the return of a manatee to the sea for murky climate-change-denial reasons. Anyway, I’m showcasing today’s strip because I’m furious that Mark is doing “flight” wordplay about guys in bear costumes, and you can tell that foreground bird in the last panel is upset that it’s been dragged into this thing as a fig leaf. “They’ll be hibernating for the winter … in jail” was right there!

Luann, 2/11/25

On the note of returning to some of my old favorites, I’ve decided to start reading Luann again, I guess because it’s worth it to inflict deliberate pain on myself just to feel something? Anyway today’s strip is about Brad trying to bake Toni a cake but the whole thing is actually an elaborate metaphor about his dick that’s both fully transparent and also doesn’t hold up to any degree of scrutiny, so I’m glad to see the vibes have not shifted too much.

Crankshaft, 2/11/25

Also, Crankshaft is back, in your life and mine! God, look at how completely dead Crankshaft is behind his eyes in panel three here, I love it, put it in a spoon and feed it to me like I’m a little baby that loves Crankshaft’s pain. Do you think the implication is that, now that marijuana is legal in Ohio, it’s not clear what “under the influence” specifically means? Or is it simply that the mayor may have gotten blotto after drinking too many Budweiser beers? Sorry, it’s neither: Crankshaft isn’t “implying” anything, he’s merely saying vaguely wordplay-shaped sounds while his soul screams endlessly inside, begging for a death that will never come.

Dustin, 2/11/25

Wow, Dustin’s mom has decided to divorce his dad! Obviously a big move but I think we can all say that it’s not a particularly surprising one.

Post Content

Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/10/25

Even as I age, I stick to one of my core values, which is that nostalgia is, ultimately, a poison, a way to project your discontent onto an imagined past that includes only your hazy, positive memories and none of the very real problems present in any historical period. Still, I recognize its fundamental appeal. Wouldn’t it be great to live in a time when professionals would be addressed in a friendly way by a shorthand nickname based on their well-respected job — “Teach,” “Padre,” and such? And wouldn’t it be great to live in a time when a high school teacher could spend so much time at the bar that the bouncers there would be like “Oh, that guy? The one who’s here so often that you easily recognize him? He’s a high school teacher, and no, I don’t really know how he can get up in the morning in time to get to class, given how much he drinks here every night.”

Herb and Jamaal, 2/10/25

Speaking of nostalgia, remember Herb and Jamaal, the strip I used to talk about mostly to make fun of its extreme nonspecificity? I let it drop off my rotation a while back due to [some throat-clearing here to gloss over how I get access to comic strips in such a way that allows me to have each post written and published by around 4 am every day and sometimes accidentally earlier] but now I’ve gotten another source on them, and the big question is: are our heroes still telling cutting-edge jokes about what’s going in the present day? The answer, surprisingly, is yes! Just as I’ve found new sources for comics access, Herb and Jamaal have dug into the informal supply chain and acquired one (1) egg, a precious commodity in our current H5N1-afflicted hellscape! Unfortunately, given that the two of them run a restaurant together, this seems like it’s not going to scale up in a way that will be helpful to them.

Dick Tracy, 2/10/25

I hate to admit it, but I couldn’t really get into the Dick Tracy fights the neo-Nazis storyline that’s wrapping up now — fights quite literally, as all the bruises on Dick and Sam’s faces will tell you. Having tuned out, I’m honestly not sure who “himself,” sitting at the bar and enjoying a healthy lettuce sandwich on white bread while he plies our lawmen and -women with a gelatinous nacho blob, is supposed to be. Should we recognize him from the story so far? Is he some new character heralding the next adventure? Is he Michael Kilian himself, the bar owner, or possibly Michael Kilian himself, the guy who used to write Dick Tracy until he died in 2005, paving the way for the truly deranged Locher era? More on this as it develops, if I can maintain my attention span for it, which I probably can’t.

Family Circus, 2/10/25

Look, I’m not saying that “become a radfem separatist and eject all boys from the Keane Kompound” is the correct reading of the King James translation of the Lord’s Prayer, but I’m willing to wait and see where exactly Dolly is going with this.

Shoe, 2/10/25

Roz’s diner in Shoe is on the receiving end of a trope that generally rubs me the wrong way, which is “This is the place where the characters hang out all the time, but they also talk shit constantly about how bad it is, and they’re really mean-spirited about it.” But if Roz really strikes up conversations with her customers by saying things like “So, you’re gonna die soon. Are you being irresponsible about it?” then maybe her naysayers have a point.

Post Content

Mary Worth, 2/9/25

I have not really been talking about this Mary Worth plotline much, because it turns out that seeing a big beefy asshole act in a way that’s clearly emotionally abusive towards his girlfriend and feels like it could become physically abusive at any moment isn’t “fun” or “funny” the way most of the dysfunctional antics in this strip are. However, when the big physical confrontation takes the form of a shove to Jared’s chest so feeble that even he seems surprised by it? And Dawn reacts with the supporting attack of “accidentally” dropping a bowling ball on Dirk’s foot? And then he calls her something truly gasp-worthy, probably a “Christ-abandoned trollop”? Well, even I have to admit: that’s pretty funny, and it gets even funnier when you see that poor Aeschylus, who wrote a civilization-defining trilogy about ghastly cycles of murder and revenge and divine wrath only being resolved by Athena founding institutions of human justice, has been dragged in to provide a sheen of legitimacy to the proceedings. Don’t worry, though: none of the bajillion websites that have this quote on them tell you which play it’s from, which is a good sign that it’s made up, so Aeschylus is in fact chilling in the Greek underworld and does not need to trouble himself with Dawn’s romantic trials. (Google’s Gemini AI on separate queries tried to tell me that the line is from The Remembered, which is not an actual play, and that while it’s not from a specific play it captures the themes of the Oresteia, which is pretty funny in its own right.)

Blondie, 2/9/25

There’s a lot of questions to ask here (Who are these people and why are they attending Dagwood’s Super Bowl party in lieu of any of his actual friends or acquaintances? How committed are they to the old-time football helmet bit? Is that one guy supposed to be British?) but mostly I want to criticize the final panel. This is the comics! What you depict is only limited by your imagination! Why is this set up to imply that even within the universe of the strip, one of these guys is just visualizing a military flyover, when the artist could’ve just depicted a squadron of actual fighter jets swooping low over Dagwood’s suburban neighborhood, deafening and terrifying everyone for miles around and, if we’re lucky, dropping a BLU-109/B “bunker buster” bomb on the Bumstead residence and ending our national nightmare forever?