Post Content

Funky Winkerbean, 3/6/18

Here’s a fun fact: I’ve been running a comics blog for a 14 years now, and so a lot of people assume I’m a “comics guy,” but what they mean by “comics guy” is someone who has lots of opinions about comic books, especially superheroes and such. And I don’t, really! I was never a big comics book obsessive, and the comics I did read were some of the squarest ones around — Superman and the Flash were my favorites. And truth be told, there are very few specifics I even remember about the stories or characters in those books (unlike, say, Mary Worth, where I could go on in great detail about plotlines from more than a decade ago).

But one thing I do remember very distinctly is the process by which I bought said comic books. I got a $1 a week as a comics allowance, and the corner store up the street sold comic books in two forms. On the one hand, I could get a new comic book for 75 cents, choosing them from a rack that had all the latest issues prominently displayed. On the other, I could get three for a dollar out of the box on the floor next to the rack. The ones in the box were anywhere between a few months and a couple years old, and had the covers torn off. I always went the latter route: I was a quantity over quality guy, plus the $1 allowance vs 75 cents mismatch was too much for my little brain to handle. (Now I see I could’ve gotten a second new book every third week, but I guess we hadn’t gotten to that chapter in math yet.) This meant that I generally read random comic books that were in the middle of multi-issue arcs that I never got to see begin or end, which honestly really prepared me for the present day, when I’ve been able to enjoy Thor: Ragnarok and Black Panther despite not having seen the previous 17 Marvel Cinematic Universe movies.

Anyway, I was always vaguely aware that these coverless comic books were somehow illicit, but I guess I have to give thanks to today’s Funky Winkerbean and the Funkyverse’s comics obsessiveness in general for finally teaching me what the scam they were pulling was. Anyway, we’re about to be treated (?) to another Funkyverse time-jumping crossover, where presumably we’re going to learn that one of the Funky Winkerbean’s more unpleasant characters is the way he is because of a childhood encounter with Ed Crankshaft.

Mark Trail, 3/6/18

“Now, Wilhelm was of course already disoriented and injured from having been involved in a traumatic train wreck. Probably he should’ve received medical attention right at the site of the accident, but it was in such an isolated, rural area that he and his friends had to wander through wilderness just to reach human civilization. And then the first people they saw fired a gun at him! It was loaded with rock salt, so it would just scar Wilhelm for life, not kill him, but of course he had no way of knowing that. He almost certainly thought he was going to die! We can all laugh about it now, of course. Well, not Wilhelm, he’s still a little steamed about the whole situation for some reason.”

Beetle Bailey, 3/6/18

Shout-out to Beetle Bailey for giving Plato the names of three real ancient Greek philosophers. I actually love Plato’s facial expression here; it’s exactly what you’d expect from a guy whom everyone just calls by the name of the only Greek philosopher they can remember or pronounce.

Post Content

Mary Worth, 3/5/18

So, uh, Mary’s just not gonna tell Jeff about the time when his friend tried to force himself upon her and she had to slap him to get him to leave, 48 hours ago? I admit to being completely flummoxed by this! Of course, maybe this shouldn’t be a surprise, as Mary simply doesn’t do “dealing with trauma.” Remember when she told a woman embittered by memories of being abandoned at the altar by her fiance that if you just stop remembering painful things, they literally cease to exist? Already as far as Mary is concerned she and Ted just couldn’t make their schedules work together, which is why she’s going to go into the muffin business herself. Those body parts mouldering just beneath the soil in her rose garden? Why, she doesn’t know a thing about those, she’ll tell the cops, and really mean it.

Dick Tracy, 3/5/18

Dick Tracy has a insanely detailed history and deep bench of rogues, so I’m never quite sure when we meet one in the modern-day strip whether this is a brand new villain or someone who appeared in a month-long storyline in 1952 or something. I do want to know if Ghost Pepper has any backstory or longstanding beef with Tracy, because if not he’s gone from 0 to Drag Him To A Horrible Death Down The Side Of A Mountain real fast. He has a “PPPRZ” vanity license plate, though, so he’s clearly a monster capable of anything.

Post Content

Pluggers, 3/4/18

A plugger knows he’s on a restricted diet when his dog’s food starts to look appetizing, when he looks at his dog’s food and thinks, “This is how I’m supposed to eat, not with a fork and knife, not off of a plate, not wearing clothes, not living in a house.” A plugger knows the restrictions come from a decision he made long ago, when he had to choose to remain as he was or to become something different, something that was supposed to be better. A plugger doesn’t think about that decision very much any more. But sometimes he can’t help it.

Blondie, 3/4/18

Today’s Blondie, in which two icons of 20th century American pop-culture masculinity aggressively urge the protagonist to stuff himself with food until he can’t eat another bite, gives me a horrifying glimpse of who this strip is actually “for.”

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/4/18

Justin’s regurgatory cycle is the most interesting thing to happen in Rex Morgan, M.D., in months, so I guess I’ll just settle in and enjoy it for as long as it keeps happening. Can’t wait to see all the variations! “That’s our Justin!” [audience laughter] [everyone is splattered with vomit]