Post Content

Mark Trail, 4/18/12

OK, guys, I know that what I’m about to type will sound like pure liquid madness, but: does anyone else think that the current series of Mark Trail events actually somewhat hold together logically? I’m thinking in particular about these two boys here, who, despite their cheery bravado, are not the brightest pair of underemployed mulletheads in the county, as their decision to grow pot on government land indicates, and have arrived at this place in their life because of their inability to clearly plan out the steps they need to reach their goals. Probably a lot of brutal killings that happen in the course of the illegal narcotics trade don’t happen because someone woke up one morning hoping to become an axe murderer; it’s just that someone stumbles upon your grow operation, and he’s seen your stuff and he’s seen your faces, and, well, murder’s a big deal, you probably don’t do it right away, but you can’t let him go, and the hours pass and you can’t think of other options, and, I mean, you’ve already got the axe. It’s right there, you know?

Beetle Bailey, 4/18/12

Everything in Beetle Bailey, meanwhile, only makes sense in a unsettling fugue state of underdeveloped eroticism. Beetle and Miss Buxley are in a field, and it’s the middle of the night, and suddenly she stubs her toe. “Hug me!” she demands, and the Beetle, who’s never shown anything other than platonic interest in her, suddenly becomes a sexually aggressive bear. It’s like what Freud must have thought sex was like, when he was nine.

Post Content

Crock, 4/1/12

Hey, check it out, everybody, it’s a vaguely competently executed joke about a more or less topical subject, in Crock! Naturally, it involves a character turning his back on God, just as his isolated fort is about to be overwhelmed by a murderous enemy army.

Beetle Bailey, 4/1/12

It seems that Cookie has found a way to work out his complicated feelings about Sarge. Presumably the day when the cook serves up not just Sarge’s image, but Sarge himself, rendered as “Sarge-Loaf,” is not far off, and no doubt his resentful troops will consume his flesh with the same manic glee.

Post Content

Beetle Bailey, 3/29/12

Cookie has always been something of an anomaly among the denizens of Camp Swampy; he never appears in uniform, so one assumes that, like Miss Buxley, he’s a civilian employee of the military rather than a soldier himself. My grandfather was during World War II a stateside Army cook who was actually in the Army; I’m not sure when that stopped being a thing, but presumably it was during the post-Korea/pre-Vietnam era during which most of Beetle Bailey’s now thoroughly outdated tropes arose. One assumes that today Cookie receives his paycheck from a Halliburton subsidiary.

But while he may not be under military discipline in a strict legal sense, it appears that he’s required to do the bidding of whoever’s around with the highest rank. Today’s strip, for instance, is much more than the typical ha-ha-Sarge-sure-likes-to-eat because of Cookie’s look of quiet despair. He knows he’s killing Sarge calorie by calorie, knows as he stares into that pan that he’s troweling grease onto Sarge’s arteries every morning. He’d like to suggest a healthy breakfast once in a while, but he’s duty-bound to produce 1,190 calories, as ordered. But he doesn’t have to be happy about it.

Mark Trail, 3/29/12

The beginning of this current Mark Trail storyline has promised nothing but a little aerial photography of the greater Lost Forest region, which, once it became clear that Mark was not terrified by the notion of mechanically assisted flight, did very little for me. But now the real action is starting, and that action involves what I assume are marijuana plants that are about to be spotted from the air, and that action will be awesome. Hey, generic khaki-clad baddies, do you know who would recognize marijuana? Mark Trail! Prepare to get punched something fierce!

Family Circus, 3/29/12

Skynet has sent an army of T-1000s from the future to attack the Keane Kompound, which should make us question whether it really hates humanity as much as we’ve been led to believe.

Rex Morgan, M.D., 3/29/12

“And his thirst for brown liquor!”