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Comics archive! Marvin

Lily has BLEATed her way to survival

Apartment 3-G, 10/5/14

Oh my goodness, guys, I don’t want to jinx it, but I think … I think … this Apartment 3-G storyline might finally be over. Tommie has seen Jack mushing the side of his face up against Carol’s face, and according to the community’s strict decency codes, they must now marry or be forever ostracized as sexual degenerates. And, good news! Lily has proven her worth, so she won’t be killed and eaten! Looks like all’s well that’s ended well after weeks and weeks and weeks of literally nothing happening, oh God, so many weeks, so many nothings.

Marvin, 10/5/14

I … guess the “personal product commercials” they’re talking about are ads for erectile dysfunction pills? I’m basing this on the throwaway panel in which Jeff correctly regards the prospect of feeling like an awkward teenager again with horror. But overall this joke is extremely nonspecific, and I’d like to imagine the original was much more explicit and the editor sent it back to the artist saying “Sorry, you can’t really talk about boner pills in the comics section,” and then the artist replied “Dude, are you aware that this strip is 90 percent repulsive scat porn?” and the editor’s like “Yeah, the syndicate doesn’t care about that, it’s a messed up world and we’re all stuck in it, now vague this up some more.”

Momma, 10/5/14

Happy Fire Prevention Week, everybody! Momma is going to prevent fires wherever possible! Even in places specifically designed to accommodate fires! Is electricity a kind of fire? Some Orthodox rabbis think so, so sure, why not! End all fire everywhere, Momma! Bring down civilization! SEND US ALL BACK TO THE CAVES

Have we reached Peak Marvin?

Hi and Lois, 9/25/14

I generally spend as little time around children as I can manage, so I often have hard time either figuring out how old kids are without being explicitly told or knowing what exactly the appropriate behavior and/or cognitive development is for whatever age they end up being. Figuring out the ages of the extremely stylized children of the comics is even harder. I’ve always pegged Dot and Ditto at around … eight? Or ten? Eight to ten, maybe? Anyhoo, I guess what I’m trying to say is that even if Ditto is nine-ish, I’m not sure if that’s an age where you’re supposed to earnestly walk through a Socratic dialogue designed to logically prove that your children should follow the ethical systems you’ve established, of if you should just announce “because I said so” and send them to their rooms. At any rate, I suppose Ditto is perfectly capable at understanding the locally prevailing moral code, considering he’s developed an elaborate persona specifically to circumvent it.

Marvin, 9/25/14

Marvin, for all its other faults, spares you any need to try to map any of its baby-characters onto the real developmental timeline of actual human infants, since it’s less concerned with verisimilitude than it is in creating a horrifying dreamscape of infantilized scat humor. “What could be worse than the strip’s constant focus on diapers?” you might say. “Maybe if the strip’s baby-characters were sexually attracted to each other, and one decided to flirt with another by complimenting her diaper?” you’d say. “That’d be awful,” you’d say. “Surely no punchline to such a strip could make the initial premise worse,” you’d say. You’d be wrong, though!

Mark Trail, 9/25/14

“I’ve heard the horns of those rhinos are aphrodisiacs, and customers in China will pay big money for them! I’ve got to harvest as many horns as I can before the species is driven to extinction!”

Another good reason not to go on a cruise: You might encounter Marvin

Marvin, 9/19/14

This week’s Marvin plot has involved Marvin’s parents taking him on a cruise and Marvin’s dad contemplating various ways to get rid of the awful hell-baby who’s cramping their style, up to and including just dumping him in the ocean. Today, Marvin is mysteriously absent, so presumably he’s been put into the ship’s Babysitting Isolation Chamber or something, giving Jeff the opportunity to remind Jenny that they had sex at some point in the past. Has Marvin’s absence really lulled him into complacency? Has he forgotten what those previous sexual acts produced? They produced Marvin, Jeff. MARVIN. Jenny knows. Jenny remembers. Jenny would rather her flesh be scoured from her bones by the unforgiving mid-sea sun than risk producing another baby from the same genetic template.

Apartment 3-G, 9/19/14

“I mean, I’ve always been fascinated by the weird colletions of guts and goo inside the fleshsacks and bonecages that came into the hospital, and was pretty good at repairing damage and killing off unwanted parasitic organisms, but it turns out I’m supposed to care about these meatslabs? Like, they’re living, thinking beings, just like I am, apparently? Who knew? Shoveling horse manure on this farm has really taught me a lot about myself. Specifically, it taught me I should go into pathology so I can tinker with the dead ones down in the morgue and not have to worry about anyone’s so-called ‘emotions.’”