Post Content

Spider-Man, 1/13/07

The secret fear of anyone in a profession that might be broadly labeled as “helpful” is that they’ll do such a good job that they’ll be rendered obsolete. For instance, for my non-comics-mocking job, I for the most part edit material written by and for computer programmers; deep down, I worry that my skillful and helpful suggestions will eventually sink in, and the geeks of the world will soon be sending grammatical, well structured, easy-to-read prose to publishers worldwide, rendering my services superfluous; this is why I’m trying to milk as much cash from the comics gig as I can. Police officers presumably fret that one day they’ll eliminate all crime everywhere, freeing up tax dollars to go towards city-subsidized public bocce courts. Perhaps this is why cops turn corrupt: it’s actually part of their union rules, so that there’s always crime to fight.

For superheroes, it’s not cash at stake, since any one of them could make big money on the sideshow circuit; rather, it’s their intrinsic sense of self-worth. Spider-Man’s own ego is pretty shaky: he plummets into a pointless pit of hypermacho self-loathing every time he realizes that his wife makes more than he does. Thus, it should come as no surprise that he positively revels in Los Angeles’ sky-high crime rate as the only cure to his sense of existential despair. Sure, it’s apparently just some extra from a gay pirate porno film dabbling in a little purse snatching, but whiny whiny Peter Parker will take emotional validation from wherever he can get it.

Marvin, 1/13/07

Note to cartoonist everywhere: Most of the characters in your feature may just crap in their pants instead of into a toilet like civilized people, but doesn’t mean that you can repeatedly make jokes about it, OK? Just … just trust me on this. It’s not acceptable. God help us all if this spreads to the folks at the other end of the age spectrum in Gasoline Alley or Momma.

B.C., 1/13/07

OK, see, the first boomerang joke was mildly amusing. The second is loopy and weird, and sort of indicates that Johnny Hart has the idea of a boomerang sort of stuck in his mind like a bit of chicken between two teeth, and he’s idly working at it with his tongue, and we have to watch the results. And it’s a boomerang. Not something interesting and relevant and funny. A boomerang. Troubling.

Post Content

B.C., 1/12/07

I … I thought B.C. was funny today, kinda. It made me laugh.

I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better in the future.

Judge Parker, 1/12/07

So in between the “Randy Parker gay election smear” storyline and the “Abbey attempts to stop Neddy from going wild in Paris” storyline, Judge Parker’s been giving us little glimpses of this “Old biddy’s butler is sick so she hires a temp butler” storyline, which, I think, hooks up with the others because the old biddy is in Paris and is somehow a relative of Abbey and/or Neddy and will be the sexy twosome’s hostess in the City of Light. Anyway, I’ve been pretty amused by the whole idea of a butler temp agency — believe me, having worked on and off as an office temp to make extra cash while I was in grad school, standing stone-faced at attention awaiting the orders of some septuagenarian aristocrat would probably be more enjoyable than, say, calling a list of phone numbers to make sure they were still fax lines and hearing that horrible SCREEEEEEE every time — but my amusement ground to a halt when I saw the horrifying, soulless visage of “Mr. Hart” in panel three. At best, he’s a cybernetic automaton, impersonating a human for some mysterious purpose; at worst, he’s a demon from below hell, sent to reap the souls of all concerned. Plus, he’s Canadian, so: super scary.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 1/12/07

Yeah, Niki, you did the “right thing” by calling June. That Elvis was probably going to take you for a “ride.” He’s one shady “character.” He probably … what? Oh, there’s someone here who wants to talk to you:

Margo! Do you kiss your comical immigrant mother with that mouth? I … I can’t control her, folks, I’m sorry.

They’ll Do It Every Time, 1/12/07

What it’s like to be me: I just spent ten minutes staring at this panel trying to figure out if this is the first ever black person in TDIET. Whatever the case, her butt is disproportionately and disturbingly large.

Pluggers, 1/12/07

Plugger refrigerators are full of sexual predators.

Post Content

Mary Worth, 1/8/07

MARY’S GOING TO VIETNAM! MARY’S GOING TO VIETNAM! MARY’S GOING TO VIETNAM!

“In person” even! This is too important to take care of via teleconferencing or astral projection!

For some reason I keep thinking of the song “Old Hippie” by the Bellamy Brothers, which my mom loved when I was a kid. It contains the following line:

“Then they sent him off to Vietnam on his senior trip.”

Mary’s sort of doing the same, although her senior status means that she’ll be shouting at locals both because she thinks they’ll understand English if she does and because she’s going deaf.

There are so many awesome possibilities to this plotline that I’m practically overbrimming with joy at them, even though I know that this is Mary Worth and thus only the most boring ones will actually occur. But still, it’s fun to imagine: Will Mary end up lost in a jungle and have to feed herself by hunting and fishing? Will she be kidnapped and forced to work in a Nike sweatshop? Will become a committed Marxist and come home determined to spread Communist revolution in her condo complex?

Better, and actually somewhat plausible: Will she discover that Dr. Jeff is living comfortably in a foreign medical staff compound, is totally startled to see Mary, and when she starts describing how she was brought there by a powerful dream, begins backing away in wide-eyed terror?

In other news, I think it would be funny if Toby were serious about her New Year’s resolution. It’s a little-known fact that last year she helped negotiate an end to Nepal’s Maoist insurgency; this year she has her sights set on just settlements in Sri Lanka and Nagorno-Karabakh. But Mary doesn’t care about that kind of do-gooding nonsense, as she’s made clear in the past; she just needs a damn date to the damn Bum Boat.

B.C., 1/8/07

Johnny, diarrhea jokes make Baby Jesus cry.