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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/21/17

In their blind haste to develop self-driving cars, elitist Google ignores nutritional needs of rural Americans. Sad!

Beetle Bailey, 9/21/17

Got the celery and the baguette, but still the lamest Art Frahm knock-off ever.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/21/17

Heather gets her longed-for baby, and Rex gets an ocean between himself and his patient. It’s win-win!

Sherman’s Lagoon, 9/21/17

Fascinated by the island monkeys, Sherman asks Big Kahuna to transform him into one. I’m more than a little concerned about this! “Beach apes” are food to Great Whites like Sherman, yet he becomes a primate every time he gets a chance. A dimwit shark is funny; a dimwit self-loathing shark is just confusing.

Gil Thorp, 9/21/17

Prodded by evil Uncle Gary, promising left tackle Rick Soto must choose between a chance at high school gridiron glory or wowing the Elks Club with 1928 Kurt Weill show tunes. Follow your extremely modest dreams, kid!

B.C., 9/21/17

You’d think a prehistory-themed strip would know a little more about reptiles.

Luann, 9/21/17

Tiffany put on some weight, which is somehow now everybody’s business. Her nominal friends spring into action: Bernice to read to her from that big copy of Cosmo, Dez to light calming incense, and Luann to set things up with the team.

— Uncle Lumpy

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Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 9/20/17

Times may be tough for newspapers elsewhere, but in largely illiterate Hootin’ Holler the editor of the Gazette is settin’ purdy. Not only did the recent subscription drive vastly expand the paper’s distribution area, but judging from the contents of Jughaid’s satchel, it also raised circulation a solid 50%. Far away in the flatland of Tysons Corner Virginia, a Gannett regional manager selects Bowtie McPencil for the quarterly sales award and a shot at the President’s Club cruise to Barbados.

Judge Parker, 9/20/17

Oh look, it’s chesty newsminx Toni Bowen from the factory-collapse story, and she’s going to save her national-desk job with an exclusive scoop of April’s video!

But hey waitaminute it was Sam holding April’s SD card — how and when did Toni meet him? He wasn’t at the factory collapse, so it must have been later, during his paranoid yarn-on-the-bulletin-board period? Or when he sent her all those nasty emails? She certainly doesn’t know April, even to look at. So Toni is staking her career, and making an enemy of the CIA, based on an unverifiable video sent by a guy she knows only as a belligerent raving lunatic. Cynical, streetwise career move, or first step on the way back to covering mall openings and/or extraordinary rendition?

Haha Randy’s lampshade looks like a Disney elephant huddle.

Mark Trail, 9/20/17

And now we arrive, as ever we must in Mark Trail stories, at the Bear in the Cave. But in truth, faithful readers, the Bear sleeps within us all. In our deepest Cave, far beneath our civilized façade, out of sight or even waking awareness — but angry when roused, and eager to strike. Consider then what great Bear must slumber within Mark Trail: a mountain of an animal, primitive, grizzly, and possessed of Biblical strength.

Asleep through countless months of slights, insults, and indignities by Baldy and his accomplice, through the endless ride across the great prairie, through fistfights, thunderstorms, and tornadoes, Mark’s Bear now stirs — beware his mighty paw! He will not be stayed by the facile trick-riding of Johnny Lone Elk, nor beguiled by the candy and Barry White CDs in Sheriff Don Stober’s saddlebags. No weapon can wound him. He plods upward, consumed with rage and thirsty for blood. O Baldy! You have wronged a Man of Nature; now tremble at Nature’s wrath!

I’m fully prepared to accept that Lone Elk, Stober, and Samson embody the ego, superego, and id, and that we’re entering a new, metaphysical phase of the Mark Trail mythos — one in which the mere idea of Mark Trail conquers evildoers. But I’m gonna miss the fistfights.

Don’t miss a single fistfight! Contribute now to the Comics Curmudgeon!

— Uncle Lumpy

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Let’s hear it for those fine folks who aggregate, bundle, monetize, and deliver our favorite content on a variety of platforms!

Gasoline Alley, 9/19/17

Love-sick Rufus done got lost in the funnies! But his contract done restricted his wanderings to the premium content offerings from the Tribune Content Agency, LLC! Alas, it’s too late for him to woo Brenda Starr on the rebound, or hit the road with Annie. But maybe he’ll turn up as the twelfth Mudlark on field in Gil Thorp? As a lovable man-goat in Pluggers? Stark naked in Love Is?

Funky Winkerbean, 9/19/17

Hey it’s Funky Winkerbean, beloved product of Batom, Inc., with syndication in North America thoughtfully provided by North America Syndicate, Inc. It’s been a while, because last week was one long, tiresome block of exposition from Buck Bedlow, high-school rival of Bull Bushka here. Bull, of course, is suffering progressive mental deterioration from injuries sustained at the hands, shoulder pads, and helmet of this very guy, and now we learn how it happened: Bull was actually a pretty lousy football player. His memories of high-school glory are therefore false and terrible, and losing them will be no big deal.

“Wow, that takes a load off my mind, heh heh — thanks for stopping by, buddy!”

Andy Capp, 9/19/17

None of your fancy-schmancy chronic traumatic encephalopathy for treasured Creators Syndicate legacy character Andy Capp. He earns his memory loss.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 9/19/17

The Morgans — including newly-minted Morgan John Carter — at home. Rex consumes premium content from King Features Syndicate, a unit of media conglomerate Hearst Corporation, on some kind of antique flat foldy-paper thing; June does so in the normal, sensible way. The narration box reminds us that “time passes,” but I’m pretty sure Hearst has already got that figured out.

All that plugging, and still not a dime from the syndicates! Good thing the Comics Curmudgeon has such generous readers! Thank you!

— Uncle Lumpy