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Judge Parker, 9/14/08
Is an attractive, large-breasted young woman answering the door wearing next to nothing for no good reason? Why, it must be Judger Parker then! Thank goodness Sam is on the case, since he’s repeatedly proven himself to be immune to sex appeal of any form and will continue grimly towards the goal of his mission: informing the inhabitants of Dewey Cheatem’s house that the man who is probably their friend or loved one or a member of their family has been killed. Sam would like you to believe that he’s doing this because he, and only he, and not the corrupt, incompetent Phoenix law enforcement apparatus, will be able to solve this mysterious crime, but I suspect that he mostly just likes being a dick.
Apartment 3-G, 9/14/08
Though the Alan Is A Drug Addict storyline in Apartment 3-G has given us all many joys, I believe that today is in fact the Big Payoff, as we learn that, for the true addict, Getting High Is All He Or She Cares About. As we have seen, this can damage your relationships with others, cause you problems on the job, and, once the only drug dealer in all of New York heads to the Hamptons for his annual vacation, will leave you incredibly bored, since you won’t have any hobbies left other than ingesting that wonderful dope.
Mark Trail, 9/12/08
Would it be OK if I just posted Mark Trail every day, with minimal comment, for as long as it continues to be this mind-blowingly hilarious? Today our hero proposes solving a local water crisis — part of an enormously complex issue involving the need to protect nature but also leave room for development, the tangled legislation around water rights, agricultural water requirements, climate change, and the competing demands on drinking water from dozens of different communities of varying sizes and political clout — by calling in a man whose main problem-solving algorithm consists of “Does it have a face I can punch?” and “Are there any intervening objects that would impede the trajectory of my fist?” Hijinks will almost certainly ensue.
Almost as funny is the continued presences of our friend the raccoon, who is attempting to get fresh with the little girl in the first panel. Raccoons are well known to be fearsomely intelligent carriers of parasites and disease who are unafraid of humans and are probably plotting our overthrow even as I type this. Last year when Amber and I went to Vancouver, we saw in Stanley Park an enormous raccoon that was hanging out just inches away from a baby sitting in a stroller, while a woman (presumably the baby’s mother) was standing six feet away taking lots of pictures of this supposedly adorable nature encounter. I’m not saying I wanted to see the raccoon grab the baby and drag him or her off into the underbrush, but, well, a valuable lesson would have been learned if that had happened. Since the little girl in Mark Trail isn’t real, though, I’m totally down with a raccoon-kidnapping subplot here.
Dick Tracy, 9/12/08
Dick Tracy’s mission in life is to kill and maim as many criminals, suspected criminals, innocent passers-by, and bleeding-heart libs as possible, so it’s no wonder why he’s so excited to see a version of himself that’s thirty feet high, imbued with superhuman strength, and impervious to bullets. Still, I think illustrating his massive tie-erection in the first panel is in somewhat poor taste.
Mary Worth, 9/12/08
“Ian’s going to think I’m an idiot for letting someone steal my identity and then use my money!”
“It happens to many types of people, I’m sure! Not just idiots, but morons, twits, fools, dummies, lame-brains, airheads…”
Gil Thorp, 9/11/08
Thank goodness that the huge Satan-worshipping fire orgy that rings in Milford’s football season has now become an annual event. God only knows what exactly is burning in the background of panel one — probably the high school, or perhaps the entire neighborhood surrounding it — but I kind of love Gil standing on his makeshift platform exhorting his crazed minions to ever-higher levels of ecstatic bloodlust. You’ll note that at least one devotee of the flame is flashing some devil horns at the end of her jelly-braceleted arm, indicating her devotion to the archdemon Astaroth. The fact that Cully has been given temporal dominion over the football team is a sure sign of the carnage that will conclude the evening, as he fallaway slams the unwitting victims directly into the inferno, ensuring that the Dark Lord will smile on the Mudlarks this fall.
Mark Trail, 9/11/08
After much promise, the just concluded Kelly-versus-Cherry storyline rapidly declined into a total snoozefest, but I’m still holding out high hopes that we’ll get some action out of this modern day St. Francis, his adorable daughter, and their sinister raccoon familiar. So far our gentle baldy has cunningly used the passive voice to explain the plight of the thirsty, thirsty animals, noting only that the water is being “drained away.” Eventually, though, the little tyke will want to know who is doing the draining, and he’ll have to admit that it’s the humans, with their endless appetite for well-watered suburban lawns and Bed, Bath, and Beyond-bearing strip malls. Presumably the two of them will then silently watch the dehydrated beasts in panel two stumble around in the vicinity of their cabin for a bit; next, the raccoon will chitter menacingly, they’ll nod their heads in agreement, and the killing spree will begin.
Apartment 3-G, 9/11/08
Lu Ann is capable of such charming depths of self-deception that I was hoping she’d take her initial thought balloon to its logical conclusion. “Beer cans, wine bottles, and pizza boxes! It looks like a scene from a frat house movie. That’s it! Alan is allowing a major studio to use his apartment as a set for a frat house movie! It all makes sense now!” It would also explain the terrible state of the curtains; as any good set dresser knows, the stereotypical denizen of a frat house in a frat house movie is such a seething cauldron of homophobia that he would literally have a stroke if he attempted to contemplate window treatments.
Marmaduke, 9/11/08
I originally read this caption as “Why don’t you bury him in his own lawn chair?” Which you have to admit makes sense, as Marmaduke appears to be dead.
Funky Winkerbean, 9/10/08
The most ancient of the Greek gods, considered to be primordial and the ancestors of all the others, were Ouranos (the sky) and Gaia (the earth). They were married, but they quarreled, because Ouranos forced Gaia to keep their children (the Titans) chained up inside of her body. So she secretly freed one of her sons and had him castrate her husband with a flint sickle; one of his testicles landed in the sea, which resulted in the birth of Aphrodite.
These ancient myths, while disturbing and terrible, have an undeniable power and grandeur, which is distinctly lacking in this equally horrifying scene in which Les and Crazy banter awkwardly about children and sausage slicers.
Mark Trail, 9/10/08
Sign that I am a bad person number 279: I found it kind of amusing that this kindly dad dug a grave for a wild animal. Not that we actually see the grave-digging; is it possible that he forced his daughter to do it? “What’s happening, papa?” “It’s called death, sweetie, and it’s a perfect opportunity for you to learn a valuable life skill.”
Either way, it’s a bad precedent set; the landscape is way too green for me to buy his “drought” explanation. Will he bury all of the hundreds of animal corpses left by the experimental virus that has been accidentally released from the nearby secret government bioweaponry lab?
Apartment 3-G, 9/10/08
I love that Lu Ann, who apparently has the worst self-esteem in all of recorded history, is focusing on the skimpiness of this garment. Because if Alan were cheating on her with someone who wore chaste, high-collared shirts that she stripped off during a particularly sexual-tension-filled moment during their bible study meeting, that would be totally OK!
Dennis the Menace, 9/9/08
Oh look, lovable scamp Dennis is up at three in the morning, watching … whatever show it is that features adorable bow-tie-wearing bunnies at three in the morning. Either it’s some ’70s kids’ show now being rebroadcast entirely for the benefit of stoners, or that rabbit is appearing only on the Mitchells’ television set, and it’s ordering Dennis to kill, in Aramaic.
Family Circus, 9/9/08
The fact that Dolly considers regurgitated worms to be “junk food” tells you all you need to know about what feeding time in the Keane Kompound is like. For deeper background on why Dolly is the way she is, consider the amount of ambient background radiation in the area necessary to produce the huge, lumpy bird-thing she’s spying through the window.
Gil Thorp, 9/9/08
Gil Thorp’s second hemi-century begins today in fine form, as we see Marty taping his weekly TV show. O Marty Moon, king of all media! Who was it who tousled your hair just so for your big TV appearance? Was it your team of professional stylists? Or was it you, alone, in your own bathroom, before you headed down to your basement, to sit in front of the “set” you fished out of the garbage behind the local CBS affiliate? And by “weekly TV show,” do you mean “insane seven-to-nine-minute drunken ramble about how Gil never wants to hang out with you that you upload to YouTube sporadically?” I think to ask the question is to know the answer.
Mary Worth, 9/9/08
“Hello? Hello? Wait, is this Ian Cameron’s hypnotically smooth and bulbous crotch, flanked on either side by lovingly detailed pants wrinkles around the groinal region? I’m sorry, I think I have the wrong number.”
I’m sure you are all more than used to the shameless self-promotion on COTW night, but this is even more shameless than usual! And yet I think you will be pleased to hear it. Because today (well, Friday evening, but I missed it because I went away for the weekend) you can at long last purchase the Spider-Man 2 Rifftrax to which I contributed! It is a mere $2.99, features my voice and jokes, along with the voices and jokes of MST3K alums Bill Corbett and Kevin Murphy, and is very funny. What more do you need, another look at the fine poster art? Well, that’s done easily enough:
Now go forth and purchase, and enjoy!
(If you were away last week and are greeting this with a big fat “Huh?”, here’s the explanation.)
And speaking of promotion … you may have noticed that Gil Thorp’s huge, polyhedronical head was even larger and more terrifying than usual today:
That’s because the strip is 50 years old today! Now, since I’ve become a semi-famous blogger in the fairly small world of newspaper comics, I’ve started to receive all sorts of emails from publicists that basically boil down to “Sure, your blog is a for-profit enterprise that sells ad space, but don’t you want to help us advertise our products for free?” These almost always get deleted. And yet, when I got a Gil Thorp 50th anniversary email this morning, I did not consign it to the trash folder with the glee that I did the endless bubbling press releases I received about the Blondie 75th anniversary wank-a-thon. Do I not, after all, have a certain vested interest in the bizarre, anachronistic soap opera strips remaining solvent, against all odds?
So, here they are, fresh from Gil Thorp’s publicist to your eyes: a press release on Gil’s 50th, a somewhat hostile interview with Gil by Marty Moon on the milestone, and the really exciting one, information on the new Gil Thorp collection, Tales from the Bucket. There’s no Web site for the latter (note to Gil Thorp guys: for God’s sake, get a Web site, they’re practically free and everything) and it’s not available in stores, so to lay your hands on it, you’ll need to order it from Take Five Productions at take_five@comcast.net.
And now, with that shameless commercialism over, it’s time for the comment of the week.
“WARNING: Do not try the classic ‘got your nose’ trick with Toby. She will take it too seriously. ‘I can’t figure out how this happened! I’m not careless with my nose!’” –Joe Blevins
And the runners-up!
“Toby really needs to get to a mechanic to have herself checked out; she’s leaking robotic fluid from her cold, dead cybernetic eye.” –Joseph J. Finn
“Actually, that’s Susan Smith the childkiller. She’s been brought into the strip to give it a more uplifting tone.” –Comrade Denny
“I’m just glad Berna, as a healthworker of some vague disposition, takes health and safety seriously — if you’re going to go pinging on speed all day at work, be sure to wear a mouthguard.” –lesles
“That’s the scariest face I’ve ever seen Judy Dench make. ‘My thoughts exactly! I ALWAYS KNOW EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE THINKING.’” –Hasty Penguin
“I’ve been to college, and now, as an expert on What People Who Do Drugs Can Look Like, I declare Alan disqualified, unless the drug that he’s doing is a prescription for his allergy to modern hairstyles.” –elyse
“I’m glad to see from the double 0s in front of Crankshaft’s bus number that he has been granted a license to kill.” –Renna Warren
“Nothing calms down a mother mountain lion with two cubs to protect faster than the rumble of several tons of granite boulders. Works every time.” –LITTLE A. OF THE GRAND CONCOURSE JUNGLE PATROL
“Haley is sure to make big money on the streets in her sexy, sexy Gap t-shirt.” –MsMolly
“I kind of covet Gloria’s outfit there — the retro tie-front blouse and formfitting sweater vest are very sexy secretary. I do not, however, covet Gloria’s botoxed forehead immobility, taupe lipstick, and blind faith in Sam’s skills as a detective.” –shegotzen
“The expression on Rex Morgan’s face after ‘I’m fond of your patootie’ doesn’t bother me so much as the angle the doctor assumes upon hearing it. He’s presenting like a baboon.” –Idols of Mud
“Rex Morgan, M.D.: MEANWHILE, OFF CAPE VERDE, A BUTTERFLY FLAPS ITS WINGS.” –minor flood
“Toby: ‘Oh noes! There was a charge on our card that got denied. We’ve been issued a new card and there is no extra charge or danger of any kind!’ Chinbeard: ‘Um … how did you get this number?’” –AmazingThor
“So Chinbeard is all jacked up over a speech on linguistics and pedagogy? Considering that he’s married to Toby, I guess his one true passion in life is being bored out of his skull.” –cheech wizard
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