Doodles of DEATH
Doodles by Mac & Sack, 2/11/07
I had a minor obsession with Doodles by Mac & Sack in the early days of this blog, which was recently rekindled when I realized that the “Sack” half of this doodling team is one of my favorite political cartoonists. This so-called “kids” Sunday feature still centers on way too much trauma for my taste. Today, having somehow escaped the clutches of a “friendly” boa constrictor, our nameless koala hero must crawl through the acid-drenched intestines of this hideous beast before the digestive process dissolves him into nothingness.
Also, in the “Doodle Zoo”: crossing a monster and a clown? For the love of God, aren’t clowns themselves monstrous enough?
Today’s Curtis illustrates the pitfalls of not following the FBOFW route but instead just keeping your characters the same age indefinitely. Curtis’ dad has, in his socio-cultural tastes and proclivities, been depicted as a typical baby boomer, in love with Motown and funk, and implacably opposed to the “rap” “junk” beloved by his eldest son. That all worked fine when the strip debuted in 1988. Now, nearly twenty years later, Greg would be getting on a bit in years to have come of age during the Temptations’ heyday but still have eleven- and eight-year-old kids. Today, we see that his age is being stealthily advanced; now his cultural tastes were set in what looks to be the late 70s and early 80s, the age of Space Invaders and the embryonic MTV. The problem is that that’s getting perilously close to the birth of hip-hop as a widespread cultural phenomenon; in five years, we may be seeing Mr. Wilkins berate his son with “You call that ‘Compton Kaheem’ junk rap? In my day we had Grandmaster Flash and Run-DMC!” or the like.
Also, as faithful reader AtomicDog and others pointed out, the punchline here is cribbed from a classic Peanuts strip, though in that case the “nyaahs” weren’t directed at Charlie Brown by his own father, which adds a bit of an edge here.
Panels from Judge Parker, 2/11/07
The main point of Sunday’s Judge Parker involves some mysterious, sinister lady in a pillbox hat who will no doubt be featured over and over again saying close variations on the same thing this week, so instead I wanted to focus on the throwaway panels, which offered me a chuckle with their depiction of this trio of North Americans contemplating architecture. “Oh my God, that building is, like, so old! Totally awesome! I bet it’s like, older than, like, my grandma and stuff! It’s so old it doesn’t have a parking lot! Radical!”
I’m not sure how long Neddy has been wearing that beret, but I hope it results in no end of mockery for her at the hands of the Frenchies. Also, Abbey seems to have suddenly transformed into The Mullet Without A Face.
Rex Morgan, M.D., 2/11/07
Man, words can’t describe the look of shock and horror on Rex’s face in the second panel. I think he heard the word “hard man” and thought for a brief, terrifying moment that June was going to try to initiate sexual relations.
Meanwhile, in the living room, I’m curious as to what direction we’re going with Niki watching Weeds, which, if you don’t know, is a show that centers on a soccer mom played by Mary-Louise Parker who is secretly running a marijuana business in her perfect exurban subdivision. I foresee a number of possibilities:
- “Heh, heh, now that these losers have let me into their home, I’m going to start corrupting their kid! LOSERS!”
- “God damn, this show reminds me of my loser druggie mom and her loser druggie boyfriend. LOSERS!”
- “Hey, my mom’s in the drug trade too, but the chick on this show is attractive and well dressed rather than skanky, and her family lives in an enormous McMansion, not a filthy tenement. LOSER!”
- “Jeez, the Morgans sure have a lot of premium cable channels that show softcore ‘erotic thrillers’ after 10 p.m.”