Archive: Crock

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Mark Trail, 10/18/09

Here’s another entry for your “Mark Trail: social misfit or sociopath?” file. It’s true that the ways of nature are not that of man, etc., but Mark seems a little too pleased to explain to us the gruesome nature of the Shrike’s feeding methods, and provides an extra-large panel to show its grisly trophy room of victims. We’re supposed to believe that this tiny feathered monster is too weak to hold onto a bug and chew at the same time, but still has the strength to impale that possibly still breathing mouse onto some nearby branch? Killing is apparently only the beginning of its monstrous joys.

Note that in the final panel, Mark claims to know the name that the northern shrike’s terrified prey use for their tormentor. How does he know what goes on in these woodland creatures’ minds? Do his advanced woodsman techniques extend to inter-species telepathy? Does he hear their cries for mercy, and smile?

Hi and Lois, 10/18/09

The most puzzling and amusing aspect of this cartoon is Ditto’s look of numb horror in the final panel. Everyone else has endured Dot’s shrill diatribe and discovered that removing their butts from the couch and stepping out onto the sidewalk actually has some positive aspects. But Ditto apparently has wholly merged with exuburbia and finds this “walking” notion abhorrent. “Ugh, my legs … carrying my torso from place to place … no in-car DVD player providing entertainment during my journey? Why, God, why?”

Crock, 10/18/09

As always, it’s best to ignore the ostensible humor content of Crock, but this cartoon does cause one to wonder why (and how) Maggot has come to be standing in a circular hole several feet deep and an inch or so wider in diameter than his waist. Is Maggot actually some sort of human-prairie dog hybrid? It would explain his odd body shape, and his hairiness.

Panel from Apartment 3-G, 10/18/09

Apartment 3-G sundays are generally just boring recaps of the previous week’s action, but you do sometimes get gems like this. Ha ha, Bobbie is enraged because she can’t get her pills! @!!*# it, she wants some mother@!!*#ing pills, you @!!*#faces!

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Crock, 10/10/09

Oh, hi Crock! Thanks for stopping by to help serve as a cautionary example in my “how not to tell a joke” clinic! Here are some quick pointers:

  • “One end of a phone conversation” jokes are tricky! You have to structure it such that it seems kind of natural, but the reader still gets all the information they need to piece together what’s going on. In fact, how you parcel out that information, revealing unexpected tidbits in interesting ways, is often at the heart of the sequence’s humor! Having the one person whose dialogue you can read or hear simply repeat back what the hidden interlocutor has just said sort of kills the magic.
  • However, once you’ve established that we the readers can’t hear the person at other end of the phone conversation, and thus the person we can see will be supplying the dialogue for both participants, don’t change up the rules by supplying jaggedy word balloons out of the telephone’s earpiece. It’s confusing.
  • Fat people tend to be spherical or oblong, rather than linear.
  • A comic that consists of three panels of some dude talking on a phone against a grey background is not particularly interesting visually.

But hey, at least your punchline didn’t make light of torture or slavery!

Mary Worth, 10/10/09

“Of course, when I say ‘right behind,’ you have to keep in mind that the Earth is a sphere, and thus any seemingly straight line will, if you follow it long enough, simply bring you back to your starting point. In that sense, I’m roughly 25,000 miles behind you, which, on the vast scale of the entire universe, is barely any distance at all. I do concede, however, that by the mundane terms in which we usually view our day-to-day existence, I could more accurately be said to be ‘right in front’ of you. But our relationship is much more elevated than that, isn’t it, Jeff?”

Spider-Man, 10/10/09

Ha ha, we all think that the Sandman has mended his ways, but … the monster is forcing his innocent daughter to watch Jay Leno! Does this madman have no decency?

Marvin, 10/10/09

This week-long plot about the fact that it smells bad when you poop in your pants has climaxed with Marvin being punched in the face, and thus I take back anything bad I may have said about it.

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Crock, 10/6/09

Poor uncultured Captain Poulet! He’s throwing around big words like “Platonic,” which means pretty much exactly the opposite of what it’s pretty clear that he thinks it means. Perhaps his only experience with Plato comes from reading The Symposium, and he thinks the evening is going to end in a drunken sodomistic orgy, though even in that case he seems to have seriously misunderstood some genders.

Oh, also, this lady is out on parole! This is “funny,” for some reason.

Apartment 3-G, 10/6/09

See, this is the difference between Ruby and Tommie. Ruby may be beaten down by the big city — she have been thrown over by a man she thought she was getting on well with for some pill-addled floozy — but she still knows that she’s worth something! In panel two, she looks mad about her lonely, unloved state. Screw you, New York! If you’re not good enough to appreciate Ruby, well, she’ll just go back to Texas, and you’ll be all the worse for it!

Tommie, meanwhile, is in the process of melting into a puddle of self-pity. The only thing keeping her standing upright is the fact that her coffee mug is mostly filled with Wellbutrin.

Jumble, 10/6/09

Speaking of pills, these women — one with a heavy-lidded expression, the other with eyes the size of dinner plates — appear to be having some kind of spontaneous little party in the shoe store, in which they’re stumbling around muttering about how “it’s like walking on marshmallows.” They are clearly high, on drugs.

Funky Winkerbean, 10/6/09

Now, Kayla, we know that you weren’t aware that Lisa’s ghost was spying on you when you and Les first made out, because you aren’t gifted with Creepy-o-Vision. But for the record, “Every peanut butter and jelly sandwich is like an edible tombstone for my dead wife and it must be made properly” is the part where you run screaming for the door and never look back.