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Mary Worth, 5/8/20

Floatin heads are, of course, a beloved Mary Worth tradition, so well established that they have their own category in the annual Worthy Awards. Today’s is a particular delight. Dawn’s fantasy Jared isn’t contained in a thought balloon, but is rather emerging from a cloud bank as she flies back from the East Coast, and while it’s always hard to judge the relative size of cloud formations, I think we have to assume that this Jared is hundreds of feet tall and regarding Dawn’s plane serenely while floating thousands of feet in the air. Since she has such an active imagination, it’s no surprise Dawn hasn’t bothered to, say, pay for in-flight wi-fi, which she could’ve used to get in touch with Jared and let him know the she isn’t going to dump him or anything.

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 5/8/20

Parson Tuttle is, as longtime readers of this blog know, a phony who’s wholly unlearned in Christian theology and philosophy and is only acting as a clergyman as a grift. Today’s he taking the day off from the scam, so he can relax, ignore the bogus Christian god, and commune with his true objects of worship: the uncanny scaly mer-deities who live beneath the waters, sleeping dreamless for eons, waiting for the day when they’ll rise up and annihilate us.

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Funky Winkerbean, 5/7/20

OK, I am ashamed to admit this, but: I genuinely do not have a handle on what is happening in Funky Winkerbean today. On the one hand, what we know most about this quixotic second-time-around attempt to turn Les’s maudlin book about his dead wife into a movie is that Les, whom the strip assumes is good and noble, is afraid that Hollywood is going to bastardize it in some way, probably by making it interesting or watchable, and so far his meetings have confirmed his darkest suspicions. Today, he and Mason are talking to a personified cluster of Rich Hollywood Asshole Signifiers, with the giant desk and the smug face and the “Amaze me!” and such, and the dude reacts to their pitch by saying “Creating art isn’t a business model,” which one might expect to mean “I’m in the business of greenlighting profitable entertainment products, and creating art — beautiful, tragic art like Lisa’s Story — isn’t how you do that.”

BUT! HOWEVER! Mason’s pitch isn’t about making some intimate, art-house film that can be made on a Netflix budget and maybe get limited theatrical distribution. He’s throwing all sorts of business-y jargon out there. Box-office appeal! High-concept four-quadrant movie! Maybe the big twist is supposed to be that our Rich Hollywood Asshole has a soul after all. Why are you coming to us with business models, Mason? Creating art isn’t a business model, and we thought you wanted to create art. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.

Between Friends, 5/7/20

Meanwhile, let’s check in on the gently neurotic middle-aged Canadian antics of Between Friends. There, uh, seems to be a gas leak of some sort? More on this situation as it develops.

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Gil Thorp, 5/6/20

Finally, the engine of this baseball season plot has been revealed: Mike “The Mayor”‘s wacky on-the-go-meal lifestyle has fallen afoul of Milford High’s dumb zero-tolerance-on-“weapons” policy. The hard lesson: kids either need to get up early enough to enjoy a leisurely balanced breakfast at home, or only eat nutrient-units small enough to hold in one hand and soft enough that they don’t need to be cut or, ideally, chewed.

Arctic Circle, 5/6/20

The funny pages are reacting to the worldwide coronavirus pandemic in all sorts of crazy ways, but I definitely did not see “jokes about penguin Zoom sex” coming.

Crock, 5/6/20

Ha ha, it’s funny because … Captain Preppie wants the men under his command to be outfitted with uniforms well suited for the climate?

Funky Winkerbean, 5/6/20

Yes, panel three, right there: this is exactly the amount of revulsion and contempt you should feel when Les Moore leans towards you and attempt to make physical contact.

Marvin, 5/6/20

Toddlers who are too young to be potty trained speaking in complete sentences and being capable of adult-level cognition: totally normal, not even worth remarking on

Newborn infants capable of same: OH MY GOD SO WACKY A SUREFIRE PUNCHLINE BABY