Archive for the 'Crock' Category

Slylock Fox, 11/15/09

Something seems seriously askew about the justice system in the world of Slylock Fox. Count Weirdly is the defendant in an elaborate trial with no fewer than five witnesses against him, yet we all know from experience that no matter what the verdict, he’ll be back in his critter-filled lair, plotting deranged, pointless evil, in only a few weeks’ time. It has to really make a lawfox like Slylock question the importance of his vocation, as he busies himself arranging the order in which his witnesses will testify in a needlessly complex fashion.

Meanwhile, in the Six Differences, our pastoral painter is about to learn about the drawbacks of photorealism the hard way, as a befuddled pooch, unable to differentiate between the representation and the represented, urinates all over his artwork.

Hagar the Horrible, 11/15/09

Yes, this bachelor rarely enjoys a home-cooked meal! He generally eats out, or eats a meal that he, uh, cooks at home. Oh, wait, I get it, “home-cooked” is code word for “cooked by a vagina-bearing individual!”

Panel from Blondie, 11/15/09

I found this panel strangely touching. While Dithers generally subjects Dagwood to nothing but persecution and abuse, when he finally admits to himself that his mind is going, he realizes that he’s driven away all intimate companionship with his bluster, and that Dagwood is the closest thing he has to a friend. However, subsequent panels completely fail to follow up on the notion of Dithers gradually going insane, and thus I quickly lost interest.

Panel from Crock, 11/15/09

Meanwhile, because the bottom half of the telephone handset depicted here seems to have vanished, when I first saw this panel I thought for a moment that Crock had decided to put a gun to his head and end both his life and the strip named after him. IF ONLY.

Six Chix, 11/11/09

I suppose the joke of this strip is that our MC is admonishing not the audience but the actors on the necessity of turning of their cell phones, because HAW HAW THE KIDS TODAY AND THE CELL PHONES, amiright? But I’m frankly much more interested in the historic and dramaturgical significance of the largish cane being brandished by pilgrim #1 on the far left. Will he be swinging it about over the course of the show’s dance numbers, including “(The Church Ought To Be Organized On A) Congregationalist Model,” “My Goodness But I Am Very Hungry,” and “A Buckle On My Hat — What’s That About?” Or is it a vaudeville-style hook, to be used to drag off the lady pilgrim (for displaying the Sin of Pride by wearing whorish non-black-and-white clothes) or the Native American (for using all the good land)?

Apartment 3-G, 11/11/09

This is why you shouldn’t hire an aspiring Hollywood screenwriter as your PI, as he’s always trying to force the messiness of real life into his preconceptions of narrative entertainment. “Just think about it, Bobbie: what aging man doesn’t at some level yearn to recapture his lost youth via a tryst with a younger woman? And what wife doesn’t secretly worry that she won’t keep her husband’s attention as she gets older? The older, sophisticated audience we’re reaching for here will all be able to relate. And, I mean, check out the framing on these pics — see how the streetlamp serves as a spotlight on the secret lovers, isolating them in an island of illumination against a sea of darkness, symbolizing the way the whole world fades away when they’re together? It’s box office gold, baby! And once I figure out what the emotionally devastating denouement is going to be, I can guarantee that it’ll be Oscar time.” Instead, you should seek out experimental filmmakers in the tradition of Andrei Tarkovsky or Bela Tarr, who aren’t afraid to point their camera at the subject of investigation and just film his everyday activities for hours at a time.

Crock, 11/11/09

I was going to complain that Grossie’s comeback made little to no sense, but then I remembered that in the ever-shifting poorly drawn hell-world of Crock, one cannot count on one’s facial features or body parts remaining symmetrical, so it’s fully possible that “Sexy” Crock Lady Character Whose Name I Forget might from time to time have legs of wildly varying lengths or widths. But this is a universe where kneeless leg-stumps might be considered someone’s “best feature,” so I’m not sure if the punchline here is really an insult per se.

Gil Thorp, 10/30/09

I may not be the most knowledgeable guy in the world when it comes to football — I lost all my play money in my family’s NFL pool by the end of week four this year — but I know enough to know that generally when one of your guys runs a punt back 98 yards for a touchdown, that’s a good thing, right? And yet there’s Coach Kaz, looking horrified and flapping his hands around theatrically. I suppose it’s not considered classy to run up the score when you’re already winning by more than two touchdowns in the fourth quarter, and we’re going learn some Valuable Lessons About Sportsmanship.

In a larger sense, I’m finally figuring out that there are really only two basic story-driving Mudlark character types: troubled loners and loudmouth jerks. And in this year’s football storyline we’re getting one of each! In SAT analogy terms, Duncan Daley:Cully Vale::Jamarr Gaddis:Andrew Gregory.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 10/30/09

Oh, man, just when I thought I couldn’t love Cue any more, what with his shiny bald head, his general attitude right on the border between menace and dyspepsia, and his continued and reckless use of the word “crib,” it turns out that he’s also a small-time pot dealer! “Take it easy man … I just called to get some weed” shall be solemnly inscribed in the book of Greatest Rex Morgan Quotes Ever; it certainly compares favorably to “Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to kill your buzz” for soap opera drug lingo verisimilitude. Now, you might think that Cue is being pretty selfless, passing up an opportunity to profit from the sale of illegal narcotics in order to bring these poor souls back to their home, but he’s actually thinking strategically. Someone in his line of work would love to have contact with a group of people who are largely idle all day, have a little bit of money, and don’t particularly care about any damage they might do to their short-term memory. Yes, sir, this trip’s gonna be lucrative for ol’ Cue, reward or no.

For Better Or For Worse, 10/30/09

Today is the day when I break my blood oath to ignore the pure rerun installments of FBOFW on this blog. I do so because I am so very, very amused by the title of the girlie magazine that John is reading not ten feet away from his wife in panel three. What sort of photography, pray tell, graces the inside pages of Nacho Man? Are there pictures of nearly nude ladies, their most intimate parts concealed only by a thick, gelatinous layer of melted nacho cheese? Are there sexy photo spreads featuring other popular bar foods, like chicken wings or mozzarella sticks? The mind boggles, and one ought to be thankful that we can clearly see both of John’s hands. Also of note is the ad on the back of this fine publication for Lion Tamer cologne, which, I assume, smells of sawdust, circus peanuts, panicked sweat, and lion shit.

Crock, 10/30/09

I kind of love the miserable expression on the face of Anonymous Legionnaire On The Left in panel two. It’s as if he knows that he will only appear in this one strip, and that his only purpose in his mayfly-brief existence is to elicit the punchline for this awful, awful joke, but despite that terrible self-knowledge, he is incapable of stopping himself.

Mark Trail, 10/18/09

Here’s another entry for your “Mark Trail: social misfit or sociopath?” file. It’s true that the ways of nature are not that of man, etc., but Mark seems a little too pleased to explain to us the gruesome nature of the Shrike’s feeding methods, and provides an extra-large panel to show its grisly trophy room of victims. We’re supposed to believe that this tiny feathered monster is too weak to hold onto a bug and chew at the same time, but still has the strength to impale that possibly still breathing mouse onto some nearby branch? Killing is apparently only the beginning of its monstrous joys.

Note that in the final panel, Mark claims to know the name that the northern shrike’s terrified prey use for their tormentor. How does he know what goes on in these woodland creatures’ minds? Do his advanced woodsman techniques extend to inter-species telepathy? Does he hear their cries for mercy, and smile?

Hi and Lois, 10/18/09

The most puzzling and amusing aspect of this cartoon is Ditto’s look of numb horror in the final panel. Everyone else has endured Dot’s shrill diatribe and discovered that removing their butts from the couch and stepping out onto the sidewalk actually has some positive aspects. But Ditto apparently has wholly merged with exuburbia and finds this “walking” notion abhorrent. “Ugh, my legs … carrying my torso from place to place … no in-car DVD player providing entertainment during my journey? Why, God, why?”

Crock, 10/18/09

As always, it’s best to ignore the ostensible humor content of Crock, but this cartoon does cause one to wonder why (and how) Maggot has come to be standing in a circular hole several feet deep and an inch or so wider in diameter than his waist. Is Maggot actually some sort of human-prairie dog hybrid? It would explain his odd body shape, and his hairiness.

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 10/18/09

Apartment 3-G sundays are generally just boring recaps of the previous week’s action, but you do sometimes get gems like this. Ha ha, Bobbie is enraged because she can’t get her pills! @!!*# it, she wants some mother@!!*#ing pills, you @!!*#faces!

Crock, 10/10/09

Oh, hi Crock! Thanks for stopping by to help serve as a cautionary example in my “how not to tell a joke” clinic! Here are some quick pointers:

• “One end of a phone conversation” jokes are tricky! You have to structure it such that it seems kind of natural, but the reader still gets all the information they need to piece together what’s going on. In fact, how you parcel out that information, revealing unexpected tidbits in interesting ways, is often at the heart of the sequence’s humor! Having the one person whose dialogue you can read or hear simply repeat back what the hidden interlocutor has just said sort of kills the magic.
• However, once you’ve established that we the readers can’t hear the person at other end of the phone conversation, and thus the person we can see will be supplying the dialogue for both participants, don’t change up the rules by supplying jaggedy word balloons out of the telephone’s earpiece. It’s confusing.
• Fat people tend to be spherical or oblong, rather than linear.
• A comic that consists of three panels of some dude talking on a phone against a grey background is not particularly interesting visually.

But hey, at least your punchline didn’t make light of torture or slavery!

Mary Worth, 10/10/09

“Of course, when I say ‘right behind,’ you have to keep in mind that the Earth is a sphere, and thus any seemingly straight line will, if you follow it long enough, simply bring you back to your starting point. In that sense, I’m roughly 25,000 miles behind you, which, on the vast scale of the entire universe, is barely any distance at all. I do concede, however, that by the mundane terms in which we usually view our day-to-day existence, I could more accurately be said to be ‘right in front’ of you. But our relationship is much more elevated than that, isn’t it, Jeff?”

Spider-Man, 10/10/09

Ha ha, we all think that the Sandman has mended his ways, but … the monster is forcing his innocent daughter to watch Jay Leno! Does this madman have no decency?

Marvin, 10/10/09

This week-long plot about the fact that it smells bad when you poop in your pants has climaxed with Marvin being punched in the face, and thus I take back anything bad I may have said about it.

Crock, 10/6/09

Poor uncultured Captain Poulet! He’s throwing around big words like “Platonic,” which means pretty much exactly the opposite of what it’s pretty clear that he thinks it means. Perhaps his only experience with Plato comes from reading The Symposium, and he thinks the evening is going to end in a drunken sodomistic orgy, though even in that case he seems to have seriously misunderstood some genders.

Oh, also, this lady is out on parole! This is “funny,” for some reason.

Apartment 3-G, 10/6/09

See, this is the difference between Ruby and Tommie. Ruby may be beaten down by the big city — she have been thrown over by a man she thought she was getting on well with for some pill-addled floozy — but she still knows that she’s worth something! In panel two, she looks mad about her lonely, unloved state. Screw you, New York! If you’re not good enough to appreciate Ruby, well, she’ll just go back to Texas, and you’ll be all the worse for it!

Tommie, meanwhile, is in the process of melting into a puddle of self-pity. The only thing keeping her standing upright is the fact that her coffee mug is mostly filled with Wellbutrin.

Jumble, 10/6/09

Speaking of pills, these women — one with a heavy-lidded expression, the other with eyes the size of dinner plates — appear to be having some kind of spontaneous little party in the shoe store, in which they’re stumbling around muttering about how “it’s like walking on marshmallows.” They are clearly high, on drugs.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/6/09

Now, Kayla, we know that you weren’t aware that Lisa’s ghost was spying on you when you and Les first made out, because you aren’t gifted with Creepy-o-Vision. But for the record, “Every peanut butter and jelly sandwich is like an edible tombstone for my dead wife and it must be made properly” is the part where you run screaming for the door and never look back.