Marvin, 8/19/08
The feature that brought you “Belly Laffs” now presents a running “gag” that’s even more recycled-art-a-riffic: “Ask Marvin,” in which not even the third panel contains any illustrative artwork! No, it’s just three panels of a terrible, typing baby, who urges his fellow infants to be so incredibly hateful that parents won’t just think twice about having more children, they’ll actually be physically unable to have sex because they’re so soul-blightingly exhausted!
Speaking of babies, faithful reader aquagirl2 fears that her youngest bears more than a passing resemblance to the terrible Marvin. What do you all think?
The haircut is a little uncanny, I think, but that’s easily fixed with scissors or clippers. Remember, a bald baby is better than a Marvin-resembling baby.
UPDATE: At aquagirl2’s request, I’m posting the other pic she sent me, in which her little Marvin-a-like looks happier and cuter. I didn’t put this up originally because he doesn’t look as much like Marvin here — in particular, his eyes aren’t let up with Satan’s hellfire — but he does seem to be thought-ballooning something, possibly about making his parents’ life miserable, or about crapping.
Gil Thorp, 8/19/08
Elmer’s too dumb to realize why “that job for [his] coach” involves painting a huge target in an open field and standing on the bulls-eye. Having already bombed Jimmy Hughes’ house with his deathplane, Gil is now flying to Michigan to eliminate Elmer as well, determined to put an end to these painfully boring summer storylines once and for all.
Mary Worth, 8/19/08
Dear Toby Cameron:
You probably think that we can’t see your thought balloons, and that you therefore are free to visualize your shirtless husband whenever you’d like. Well, we can, and you aren’t.
Sincerely,
The Mary Worth-reading public
Crankshaft, 8/19/08
Ho ho, the battle of the cranky old folks just keeps getting better! It’s pretty obvious that at the end of this trip to the cemetery somebody’s going to end up at the bottom of a shallow grave — but who? I’m on tenterhooks!
COTW coming soon, but first: we’ve got exciting new merchandise on offer! This fab design from faithful reader The Spectacular Spider-Brick combines beloved Rex Morgan typos with everyone’s favorite getaway spot for Santa Royale’s elite:
A number of sizes and styles are available! And of course if you want this logo on something else, just let me know, and I’ll try to accommodate you. Let your platonic not-boyfriend or -girlfriend know where you want to be taken out for shrimp scampi!
Of course, myriad other merchandise items are waiting for you! In fact, four are on display in this picture from faithful reader Dr. Strenglove!
The good doctor writes:
See the attached photo of me and family members of various ages (two of us are under 19 and two are over 40) wearing Comics Curmudgeon Gear on Capistrano Beach, Orange County, California, from our vacation first week of August 2008. I’m the one in the hat.
From left to right, those are t-shirts honoring the AJGLU 3000, Cassandra Cat, the Jungle Patrol, and Gail Martin. Huzzah for the whole Strenglove clan!
OK, now that that shameless pimpery is out of the way, I present you with your COMMENT OF THE WEEK:
“Your question brings to mind a question I had the first time this came up: why would a used car dealer have a fleet of limos? But then I figured I’d have a drink and forget about it. That was nice.” –Bunnë, Official Comic Execrator
And your long-ish list of runners up!
“I just wanted to let you know — Jimmy’s heard from Shain Tech and Lawson University. I’m so excited! In fact, I’ve masturbated to the point where my hand is glued to the brochures!” –survivor
“Whatever else you might say about Toby, she knows exactly what kind of lame-ass present her lame-ass husband will appreciate most. I’m even inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt on the ‘it wasn’t easy’ comment, despite the fact that she only visited one store and then bought it online; the hard part wasn’t really finding the DVD, but rather the strain of pulling all the tattered shreds of her ruined, desolate soul so that she could just barely care enough about Ian to buy him a gift in the first place. Seriously, that’s going above and beyond the call of duty in Mary Worth, where serving someone a plate of lurid yellow globs masquerading as ‘shrimp scampi’ is considered to be a satisfactory replacement for angry make-up sex.” –Trilobite
“So Mark Trail has devolved into a ‘man rescues girls’ story. I can’t express how surprised I’m not by this development.” –A New Day
“David Cronenberg, Canadian film maker, will retell the romance of Liz and Anthony in his next film. Once again, he will tackle the question: ‘What is real?’ The same marriage date, used again … and again and again? The groom’s parents — unknown to the bride’s family, despite their long interest in the ‘wholesome’ young man? Or drunken child-abandoners? The mysterious dark lady — the first wife? Or shrunken into a dark child, locked in her basement cell? Cranes transmogrifying into crows. Swirling colors/colours not found in nature. All the characters moving jerkily about, their actions controlled by a Mysterious Puppeteer — who threatens to end this reality and start it all over again, with ‘changes.’ Cronenberg’s fearlessness in presenting gut-wrenching grossness will be tested in The Wedding Banquet scene.” –Someone from Texas….
“Well, you learn something every day. I had no idea that ‘regatta’ is the street name for ‘laudanum.’” –Nekrotzar
“Man. That whole neighborhood is dysfunctional. Liz never stood a chance. All she had left, in one final act of defiance to her fate, was to choose hideous colors so everyone would look as awful on the outside as they were on the inside.” –Farley’s Revenge
“I’ve got to hand it to Anthony’s mustache for not having anything to do with shitfest.” –PeteMoss
“What’s this? A Gord/Anthony superstar team up with no other characters in sight? That’s dangerously pushing the envelope of doughy, pale, white guy blandness even for this strip.” –Joe Blevins
“Thank heaven Peter has the ability to plummet to earth with the proportionate terminal velocity of a really big spider, thus beating gravity at its own game. He’s zooming through space like he thinks there’s a TV set down there.” –Muffaroo for hire
“At first I thought it was Iris giving the little hooligans candy as well. Then I figured out it was Mira. They apparently go to the same godawful hair stylist — or the aforementioned FOOBification of all reality has progressed. Everyone is devolving into Elly, I tell you. I can feel my nose widening as I type.” –Brick Bradford
“In other news, handguns have just been legalized in Washington, DC, so hopefully someone will pop a cap in Billy’s ass before the end of this storyline.” –Matt E
“Pluggers don’t go to the beach, because after they’ve been wet they smell terrible. Well, more terrible.” –Mac
“Judge Parker: Sure enough, thanks to this strip, my original indifference to golf has turned into dislike, then hatred, then loathing, and now white-hot seething hostility.” –Poteet
“Like most people who want to unwind in front of the boob tube after a long day, I eat an entire plate of individually wrapped Land-O-Lake margarine packets.” –Jesse Cline
“So Dagwood is an incontinent time-waster; Crankshaft’s only source of fulfillment is spreading misery to those around him; Marmaduke is a slobbering, insupportable burden to the Hitler family; and Momma is obnoxious, shriveled, and dying. It’s like a typical day in the comics, only more so. I can only assume that somewhere Marvin is taking malicious satisfaction in shitting himself, Spider-Man is singing along to the Empire Today commercial, and a shabbily-dressed plugger is finding a way to cheap out on taking a nap in his own filth while eating a bacon-wrapped ice-cream sandwich.” –Violet
“Poor Grandpa Jim. He’s trying so hard to leave this world before the unholy cataclysm of puns and mustachioed babies that the Anthony-Liz wedding will undoubtedly bring.” –Dagger
“Toby and Ian are so boring that watching a PBS documentary raises the excitement level in their lives. Even Toby’s Walter Mitty-esque inner monologues consist of nothing more than looking forward paying her credit card bill. Say what you want about Mary Worth, but at least her meddling leaves a trail of death and destruction in its wake.” –monkey.dave
“It’s like the old joke: where does a 500 pound gorilla sit? Just replace ’sit’ with ‘squat and run a meth lab.’” –Master Mahan
“That Family Circus looks less like ‘Our Olympics’ and more like ‘The myriad excuses the Keane kids make to the school nurse to cover up the horror of child abuse.’” –Patrick
Plus, if you’re at all interested in dramatic theory and how it pertains to Mary Worth, you really must read this amazing comment from Journeyman Softheart, which would have been on this list had it not been longer than most of my own posts. It still gets a very honorable mention.
Also to be mentioned honorably are everyone who put a little change in my tip jar! And honor accrues to our advertisers as well:
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Marmaduke, 8/18/08
Eagle-eyed readers have noted for the past few days that there have been two names at the bottom of Marmaduke’s panels — Paul and Brad Anderson, presumably indicating yet another cartoon property being passed down from father to son, like kingships and duchies were in Europe in days of yore. Today may be Paul’s first day really driving the pen, as there’s a distinct difference in style — the children look like recognizable humans instead of face-melted horror-things, for instance. But thankfully, the feature’s central Marmadukeness remains intact, as Marmaduke is cheerfully threatening to eat these little suburban moppets, or worse.
Mark Trail, 8/18/08
Cherry and Kelly are dumb girls, so obviously they’re not going to be able to get out of their Desperate Cat Cave Dilemma themselves. The question is, which male person or persons will end up saving them? Will it be, um, what’s-his-name and the other guy, the two losers who have been on their pointless expedition with them? Or will it be Mark, who is looking so handsome sitting on top of that pretty, pretty pony with the pretty mane? As with most questions involving Mark Trail, you’ll quickly figure it out if you ask yourself “How would a ten-year-old girl answer?”
Crankshaft, 8/18/08
I admit somewhat shamefacedly that I unironically laughed at today’s Crankshaft, and actually sort of look forward to the long-simmering battle of extremely awfulness that will crankily rage between these two until one of them dies. I do wonder why Crankshaft’s daughter’s mother-in-law (I refuse to look up her name) is decked out in black. Is she perpetually in mourning for her long-dead spouse, like Queen Victoria? Or is she just an inky singularity of hate, from which no light or joy can escape?
Slylock Fox, 8/17/08
Oh, sure, the main puzzle in today’s Slylock at first glance seems like it could take place in any abandoned house being used as a hideout by a criminal gorilla; it’s a common story, what with the recent spike in home foreclosures and downsizing at local primate houses. But check out that portrait hanging by the door: that’s none other than Mr. Mark Trail. I think it’s pretty clear that Harry Ape is holed up in the house where Kelly Welly spent her sad, final years. Having lost the good looks that allowed her to bend men to her will, and alienated her friends by her constant foolishness, she was left with nothing but her picture of her one true love; she spent the last days of her life alone, throwing chicken bones on the floor and propping up her crumbling furniture with cinder blocks. It’s quite sad, really.
Family Circus, 8/17/08
I was going to say that there could be no greater horror than the concept of “water sports” as applied to the Keane Kids, but then I got a load of the actual panel so entitled. While we are treated to a hint of Billy Ass, at least we are spared any glimpse of Little Billy. Thank God for Newton’s First Law of Motion, as it applies to dangly bits.
In the “hurdles” panel, Mom is clearly either going kick Jeffy right in the ribcage or go sprawling onto the stovetop; I vote for the former, as that will learn him to loll around in front of pots spewing out ominous black smoke. Also, “wrestling” appears to be code for “beating the living crap out of Daddy.” Even the animals are getting in on the savage assault.
Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/17/08
Rex is looking pretty chipper in panel four, presumably because he’s totally intrigued by the concept of separate vacations. “If taking vacations apart is good for a marriage, maybe spending all our time apart will be even better!” But by the final panel, he’s looking very, very sad indeed. “Damn it, it’s awkward enough avoiding sexual advances from my wife; I don’t want to have to deal with this at work, too!”
Rex Morgan, M.D., 8/16/08
I am sadly far removed from the good, honest, manly work that goes on aboard boats, so the only association I have with the phrase “cabin boy” is “teenage sexual plaything for lonely sailors.” Presumably there’s something nautical that a cabin boy would be making himself useful for, but if thirtysomething landlubber jerkface Rex Morgan could actually do something productive on board other than show off his manly chest so that Lenore and/or her crew can get their jollies, I’d love to hear it.
For Better Or For Worse, 8/16/08
Oh, also, Grandpa Jim is dying or something. I’m going to pass over the tiresome melodrama here for the moment (if he really didn’t want to spoil her day, then why did he go and have a heart attack in the middle of it?); I mostly want to comment on Uncle Phil’s creepy, glowing eyes in the next-to-last panel. Though it’s not entirely clear what they’re supposed to denote, this is a very striking effect, so much so that I immediately remembered the last time I saw it in this strip: the day that Liz and Anthony half-assedly got engaged. One can only assume that it denotes the imminent death of something wonderful and precious (e.g., Liz’s grandfather, Liz’s carefree existence as a human being who thinks and feels).
Marvin, 8/16/08
Here’s a question that has puzzled generations of professional humorists. Imagine that you have a terrible, terrible joke. This joke has nothing to do with the interests or concerns of babies. If that joke were stretched out over three panels, and thought-ballooned by three near-identical drawings of a heavy-lidded, sullen, unlikeable infant, would it become funny, or at least less unfunny? Thanks to the bravery of this Marvin, we now know that the answer is a resounding “no”!
Dick Tracy, 8/16/08
Another philosophical conundrum: Is depicting a mangled human being, his flesh torn to ribbons by his own savage dogs, somehow acceptable for the comics pages if an onlooker makes some half-assed wordplay comparing the poor soul to a pork chop or t-bone steak of the sort that you’d see for sale in your local supermarket? Based on the absence of outraged letters demanding the removal of Dick Tracy from all newspapers everywhere, the answer is apparently “yes”!
Blondie, 8/15/08
Having apparently decided that his nonstop regimen of bingeing and (I assume, based on his rail-thin physique) purging isn’t punishment enough for his poor body, Dagwood has now taken to torturing his innocent bladder.
Crankshaft, 8/15/08
Truth in labeling laws ought to require that every single installment of Crankshaft and Funky Winkerbean contain the phrase “an undercurrent of melancholy that I can’t quite seem to put into words.”
Marmaduke, 8/15/08
Marmaduke is overplaying his hand here: his owner has made the baffling decision to try to balance a good-sized sandwich on a plate, a bowl of potato chips, and, um, a plate of some sort of cube-things on his lap with no tray or other support of any kind, so at least half of that food is going to be on the floor in short order.
Momma, 8/15/08
Ha ha! Momma’s doctor is a monstrous cannibalistic fiend who feasts on the organs of the elderly.
In unrelated news, for everyone who has been able to endure the Foob Wedding Of The Century by consoling themselves that once the vows have been uttered, it will all be over: Ha ha ha ha ha.
