Hagar the Horrible, 5/7/09
Ha ha, that Hagar! Always with the desperate need to pump his body full of as much alcohol as humanly possible! It’s probably legitimate to blame Hagar’s woes on “the economy,” as it’s much easier for a lightly armed and highly mobile group of Vikings to plunder a trading ship than it is for them to besiege a fortified castle; a decline in trade means slimmer pickings for pirates and raiders. Of course, raids from Scandinavian war-bands like Hagar’s, along with similar attacks from Arab raiders from North Africa and Magyar horsemen from Hungary, are exactly what helped nip the modest Carolingian economic revival in 9th century Western Europe in the bud, so it’s hard to feel sorry for him as he sees his economically parasitic life’s work becoming more difficult.
Oh, wait, this is supposed to be about the modern-day economy? Never mind.
Call me obsessed with minute changes in comic strip fonts if you must, but I swear that “this economy” in that final panel is slightly less bold than the rest of the dialogue in that word balloon. This of course brings my mind to conspiracy theories about the original wording, which told us what really Hagar needs to learn to “get used to” without the sweet, mind-killing taste of booze. I hope it was “that creeping feeling of existential dread, that realization that nothing you do in this life matters in any meaningful way.”
Also, does this joke perhaps seem familiar to you? Well, of course it does.
Mary Worth, 5/7/09
Hey, dads out there! When your daughter has just been completely devastated — when she’s just found out that the man who made her feel emotionally complete, the one who she was ready to spend her life with, was a liar and a fraud — do you know what will make her feel better? Cupcakes! Cupcakes with pretty pink frosting! Cupcakes and your assurance that you’ll be running her love life from here on in, so she doesn’t have to worry about exercising that pesky autonomy anymore.
Rex Morgan, M.D., 5/7/09
“Uh, yeah, that’s right, I’m my mother’s daughter! I’m totally not some 45-year-old male dwarf she’s hired to play the part, for some reason. Now if you excuse me, I have to take care of this five o’ clock shadow.”