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Heathcliff, 5/7/25

The thing about Heathcliff is that he should be dominant in any situation in which he finds himself, either having established himself as being on top of the hierarchy or doing something that ignores other people’s dominant positions and makes them nervous. Garfield is usually dominant in his strip but sometimes this is reversed for comical effect, but I don’t think that works with Heathcliff. Heathcliff should not be “in deep” with his bookie and currying favor with him by laughing too hard at his jokes! He should be at the top of an attack parabola, ready to descend claws extended onto the face of the starting pitcher of whatever team he’s just bet against.

The Lockhorns, 5/7/25

I really respect that Leroy has absorbed just enough Harry Potter knowledge to know that witches send letters with owls but doesn’t really know or care that many witches and wizards are good guys, they aren’t the kind of comical evil crone-witches he associates with Loretta’s mother, etc. I also respect The Lockhorns for getting the U.S. Postal Service’s logo correct on this letter carrier’s bag, which is more than Blondie, a strip with a recurring mailman character, can say.

Dick Tracy, 5/7/25

The mostly empty tumbler of brown liquor on the desk in the final panel is a nice touch. “Ahh, I shan’t leave this evidence behind!” he thinks, smugly and drunkly, right before whatever electrified net contraption Sam has talked the MCU’s favorite judge into letting them use descends upon him.

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Luann, 5/6/25

Luann is perennially on its weird psychosexual bullshit — Luann and Phil, who are college-aged adults, have already smooched but somehow Luann has to come up with weird elaborate scenarios to hang out with him, like “accidentally” making too much lasagna and inviting him over as a companion to their old lady friend to eat the leftovers — but I do enjoy the punchline panel here, in which Mrs. Horner is already sitting down and desperately trying to stop everyone else from babbling about the aforementioned psychosexual bullshit and just eat already. “C’mon kids!” she’s saying. “I’ve lived a long life and one thing I’ve learned is that leftover lasagna doesn’t get better as it approaches room temperature.”

Zits, 5/6/25

Zits is doing a bit this week where Jeremy and Pierce cram for their exams and it makes their heads swell up real big and I think it’s funny. Sometimes comics are just excuses to draw things that are funny to look at and that’s OK!

Shoe, 5/6/25

“Get it, because of the common saying about liars? Anyway, he’s in the hospital in critical condition, the governor is already coming up with a list of potential appointees to his seat in case he doesn’t make it.”

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Gil Thorp, 5/5/25

Hey, remember when we met Marty’s AA pal, “Clam,” and I said, “Ha ha, wouldn’t it be funny if that was the same person as Clambake, the guy who did some unpaid coaching for Gil and claimed to be a Negro Leaguer, but it turns out he was a fraud?” Well, ha ha, it seems that is the same guy, and he only went around lying about his baseball career because he was drunk, I guess, but now that he’s clean and sober he’s welcome to come back to the Milford dugout to do some unpaid coaching again, or at least to stare meaningfully out at the field with Gil.

This actually gives me a chance to talk about the weird Gil Thorp variant of comic book time, in which the kids age in real time, spending no more than four years as school-age characters and occasionally returning as adults, but Gil and his fellow coaches seemingly do not. And the original Clambake storyline, which ran in 2007, actually gives us some pegs to real ages: in his fabrication, he claimed to have been 83 years old and played in the late 1940s, when in fact he was only 71, as Gil found out with some help from the local cops once he decided to maybe figure out if this random dude who’d been hanging around the school for weeks was on the up and up. That would make him 89 years old now … or maybe still 71, if he’s in the same time-stasis as Gil? Unclear. I’m interested in finding out, though.

Dick Tracy, 5/5/25

I haven’t really been keeping up with the details in Dick Tracy, but I am happy to inform you that Dick finally has all the information he needs to put an end to Neo-Chicago’s nephewcrime epidemic once and for all. I love that the only photo the cops have of these two is a party pic printed out from Facebook; I assume that the heavily armed SWAT team currently converging on their location has been warned that “suspects may be enjoying canapés, repeat, canapés.”

Pluggers, 5/5/25

Now, the other coastal elitists and I all like to see pluggers engaging in their vaguely depressing down-home antics and ask, jokingly, “Are pluggers OK? Ha ha!” But, for real: are pluggers OK. Are pluggers no longer able to properly care for themselves, or possibly being physically abused. Do we need to call a social worker, to keep the pluggers safe.