Archive: Archie

Post Content

Mark Trail, 5/9/12

There is a famous rule of the Internet, and that’s Rule 34, and it goes like this: If it exists, there is porn of it — no exceptions. That means that somewhere out there someone has created a porn version of Mark Trail, by the use of advanced pornographing equipment that can break through the brittle shield of asexuality that surrounds the strip at all times. I’ve never had the intestinal fortitude to seek any such material out, but for two and a half panels I thought I was getting the setup to some canon in-strip Mark Trail erotica today. The mysterious call from the past on Mark’s bakelite handset that isn’t connected to anything in particular, the gratuitous use of “honey,” the sexy-for-Mark-Trail name “Trish,” the easy banter … and then bam, your arousal is crushed because this is about a young girl’s sick father, you pervert. And this is how that brittle shield of asexuality is kept in place.

Gil Thorp, 5/9/12

OK, let me preface the following by saying that I am fully aware that I am now someone who complains about the “good old days” of Gil Thorp, and that therefore I have become everything that I most despise. That having been said, remember the good old days of Gil Thorp, when they had a homeless kid playing on the team, and crowds at rival schools taunted him by dressing up like hobos, and it was amazing? That’s a pretty high bar when it comes to Important Social Issues-based taunting, and it looks like the Goshen girls aren’t going to reach it. “Hey, Darby, how many kids you got now? Because we heard you know how to have sex, and that’s how kids are made. Sex-having kid-maker! Go back to the obstetrics ward!”

Archie, 5/9/12

I don’t want to exaggerate too much, but I’m reasonably sure this is the greatest Archie ever made? See, Miss Grundy knocked the kids out of their thoughtless world of casual socializing, and just forcing them to change locations has caused them to re-evaluate everything they know about the world and each other, and now they’re just standing there, staring silently into the middle distance, terrified.

Crankshaft, 5/9/12

“Plus you know there’s nothing I loathe so much as buying gifts or otherwise bringing joy to others. My mind is so resistant to the idea that I always forget about it.”

Barney Google and Snuffy Smith, 5/9/12

“Haw, Lurleen, that is an amusin’ bit o’ wordplay! But still, you know the penalty for talkin’ to menfolk from other clans is death by stonin’.”

Post Content

Funky Winkerbean, 4/2/12

Let’s enjoy all the ways in which the dialogue in this strip serves to explain the plot and fails to mirror humans actually talk, shall we? “Why is Funky here?” may be the reader’s reaction to the strip’s title character’s sudden appearance, but that probably wouldn’t be the blunt, immediate response of Funky’s best friend’s teenage daughter (though we may give her some leeway due to general teenage sass and/or her justifiable disgust at Funky’s existence). Panel two is quite the doozy of exposition, though! One would of course assume that, having already packed her bags, Summer is well aware that she’s taking a class trip to Washington, D.C. And under normal circumstances one would also assume that she would have known for some time that her father and (future? did my mind maybe erase the elaborate Les-Cayla wedding, to protect me?) stepmother would be there making sure she wasn’t making out with random dudes in a secluded spot in the Jefferson Memorial or whatever. But maybe Les’s stratospheric self-regard led him to believe that his daughter would want to spend time with him on her trip, and thus this is supposed to be some special surprise for her? Les and Funky continue smirking smugly after Summer disabuses them of this notion, no doubt because they know from experience that the teenage years Summer is so eager to escape now will in retrospect be the least miserable time of her life. They know that in the Funkyverse the adulthood that Summer craves so much is really a long, bumpy road leading through pain to death. (The bumps in the road are tumors.)

Dennis the Menace, 4/2/12

Since Joey’s illiteracy is I believe fairly well established in this strip, it seems uncharacteristically menacing for Dennis to have read him what’s scrawled on his prank-sign. Joey’s uncontrollable weeping at the thought of his only friend moving away seems about right, though, as does his inability to grasp the concept of an April Fool’s Joke after repeated explanations.

Archie, 4/2/12

Ha ha, nice try, Archie, but Riverdale’s rigid class structure isn’t going to break down on Mr. Lodge’s watch!

Post Content

Mary Worth, 3/1/12

OK, Mary, I’m starting to get just a little bit tired of you repeatedly emitting lines of gobsmacked shock every time Nola informs you of her latest act of moral depravity. She lies, she cheats, she adulters! She always gets what she wants and she lets nothing get in her way! I think the reason Mary is so drawn to Nola is because she needs the jolt of adrenaline she gets every time the woman confesses another sin. Everyone else in Mary’s life is so terrified of her that they only think happy thoughts in her presence; when Nola smiles and describes her amoral adventures, Mary is relieved to discover that she can in fact still feel.

Archie, 3/1/12

Ha ha, Professor Flutesnoot’s heavy-lidded expression in panel two is terrifying. “Look, kid, they’ve tied my salary to the results of the No Child Left Behind test results, so if the Department of Education decides you need to know about Henry VIII, you’re going to learn about Henry VIII, capisce? Remember, your scores can’t bring down my average if you turn up dead in a dumpster the morning of the test, so how about you shut your yap and start memorizing the names of Henry’s various wives and coming up with a coherent four-sentence explanation of what the ‘Dissolution of the Monasteries’ was.”

I was going to question the subject matter here because I’m pretty sure that Professor Flutesnoot actually teaches chemistry, but in a world where a teenager comes into school wearing a shirt adorned by two awkwardly placed playing cards, we can’t really expect anything to make sense.